|
|
Post by atlas on Jul 8, 2011 3:59:21 GMT
Buzz…buzz…buzz. The alarm clock annoyingly went off on the bedside table. Atlas had spent the previous night out, and by “out” I mean getting plastered with a few of his friends. It was a Saturday night and he was 22. There was nothing wrong with being young while you can still enjoy it. He fully intended to stop hard partying if it ever interfered with his life in a negative way. Other than his little brothers, Atlas had no real responsibility, and they were both 18, so, for the most part, they could take care of themselves. The clock read a disgusting 8:30 am. A usual post party morning consisted of his sleeping until noon and then nursing his hangover so that he was ready for classes the next Monday, but today, Atlas had plans to meet one of his friends to work out at 9. SHUTUP! Atlas screamed back at the alarm clock before turning it off. He was never sure why people yelled at inanimate objects, but yelling at that evil clock made waking up a little easier. Rolling out of bed, Atlas looked at the reflection from the mirror on the wall. He looked like he’d been hit by a bus. He walked into the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and then went back to his bedroom to get dressed. A pair of black athletic shorts, a cut-off white shirt and his university track hoodie were all that was needed. He loved working out, because it ensured an easy outfit decision. He threw on some socks, a pair of old tennis shoes and headed out. He left a note on the kitchen counter for his brother and a 20. They had gone out last night too, so he would probably be back before the even bothered waking up, but he didn’t like the thought of them feeling abandoned, so he always made sure to write a note. Opening the door to their house, fresh air filled up Atlas’s senses. It was glorious, and covered him in a blanket of comfort. Ever since he can remember, Atlas has loved being outside. He always feels trapped when he’s inside for too long. The feeling of earth underneath him keeps him sane, or at least as sane as he could be. Atlas wasn’t really sure about anyone being completely sane. He continued walking down the street to the bus stop. He had a car, but he enjoyed riding the bus if he could. There was more room and it was always filled with the most interesting people. Today, Atlas sat across from an older woman who was knitting. He watched as her fingers nimbly interlaced the yard and knitting needles. His mother to knit, but it never interested Atlas until after she had already passed away. The bus stopped and he watched as the woman put her knitting supplies in a large bag. The clank of glass jars came and Atlas saw small containers of herbs stowed away in her bag. Witch Atlas thought to himself. He smiled at the woman as she stood up and left. Witches were tricky to place in the war. It was like what that Glenda lady said in The Wizard of Oz. There really are good ones and bad ones, and this woman didn’t look too harmful, so he wanted to think that she was on his side. He watched out the window as the city passed by and the nicer houses turned into smaller houses and the smaller houses turned into, for lack of a better word, the ghetto. There was one decent gym in town and it wasn’t on the nice side. It had been there forever, and it had all the equipment Atlas needed to stay in decent shape. He preferred just running through the woods, but in order to keep his body the way he liked it, he needed to also do weight training and ab workouts, so he was forced to be in a gym. It helped when others were with him though. He had texted his somewhat new friend Dylan to come work out with him today last Wednesday. He seemed like a pretty cool guy, and Atlas wanted to get to know him better, and working out seemed the easiest way. It was sometimes a bit difficult to have guy friends and be gay. Atlas had to make sure that it wasn’t awkward and he had learned that going anywhere you would bring a date was not the best of places to bring a straight guy the first time he chilled with him. Dylan was a decent looking guy, but he wasn’t really Atlas’s type. He had that whole “I’m dark and mysterious thing,” but he was a little bit scrawny for Atlas’s taste. That didn’t however mean that he wouldn’t drunkenly make out with him if the opportunity were to arise. Those were two completely different ways of judging someone. The ven diagram circles didn’t even touch. He shook the thoughts from his mind altogether. Not the time or place. He walked off the bus, thanking the bus driver as he walked down the steps. He walked the two blocks from the bus stop and looked down at his watch: 8:55am. He was five minutes early, good timing. He pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. It was a terrible habit, he knew, but it reminded him of his dad. Atlas’s father always smelled like cigar smoke, because they helped him concentrate on whatever he was studying that moment. He lit the end with the filter in his mouth. I need to quit. Atlas thought to himself before leaning against the wall outside of the gym. Muse- Miike Snow Word Count- Enough For- Dylan OOC- First post...holla
|
|
|
|
Post by DYLAN JAMES COLLINS on Jul 8, 2011 19:43:36 GMT
Dylan heard his phone buzz as he just blindly, searched for the vibrating electronic above his head on the flat headboard, his hands feeling until something smooth run under his fingertips. He slowly opened his eyes, light shining sporadically through the dark brown curtains as he groaned softly, his head feeling like it was bound to explode. He just winced as he brought the phone to his face, a wake up message flashing across the screen as he just was tempted to throw the device across the room. He knew he was given this by Owen so he could keep in touch and make sure he was alright from time to time, but he really hated having early annoying wake up messages at nine in the morning. He stretched, his lean muscles flexing as though they were rubber bands ready to be tightened up. Why was he getting up this early again? Simply because he was going to work out with his newer friend, Atlas. They had both gone out for a few drinks last night and even met over drinks ironically, but he wondered if it had been such a good idea to plan a work out session right after drinking the night before. He wondered how smashed Atlas had become, but he knew he had been beyond smashed from the countless drinks he had last night. Usually he did not consume that much, but he did and now he was thoroughly regretting in taking that much alcohol. There was a pounding headache as he just sat up, feeling a head rush as he stood up. Then he looked straight into the mirror, screaming as he saw what he thought to be a stranger, but it was just the site of him. He definitely looked like he had been trashed the night before. His hair was shooting up in random directions and he just stumbled as he looked at the very exhausted version of himself. “Good Lord…” He said, running his fingers through his hair as he walked out of the room and towards the bathroom, looking back and forth, seeing no one awake yet, just creeping quietly to the bathroom. He quickly showered, just standing under the hot water and letting it wash down his face and body slowly. After about five minutes, he walked out, a towel wrapped around his small waist.
He slipped into some shorts and a tight white tank top, before grabbing his black and white sneakers, walking out the door and began to jog, the old gym not too far from his family’s house. The coolness of the morning was tickling at his skin as he just looked forward along the side walk. Maybe it was not the best idea to be jogging alone, but as far as he knew they did not have a car that they could trust him with, nor had he ever really driven before. Dylan had always just been accustomed to just using his own two feet or four if he was a werewolf to go to where he needed to be. Dahlia had obviously kept him from the technological world that everyone in New York seemed to be, scratch that, the world seemed to know, especially the United States. There were so many devices that he was just discovering and it was could be comparable to bringing a child to a gigantic toy store saying to do whatever they wanted. Already, he was becoming used to using the computer, but more so his phone which he just had stuck in the pocket of his black shorts. Part of him was afraid that they would catch up with him sooner than he thought because Dahlia would find him eventually and at that point, he was not sure what he would do. He had the choice to try to fight, but if there were ten people after him at once, there would be no way he could fend them off, not even as a werewolf. He definitely was not getting Owen involved in this, no matter how much was at stake, even if it meant his life. He had finally found his family and realized how very kind they were unlike what Dahlia had raised him up to believe. Her desperately wanted to get revenge on her though for torturing him with the idea that his family never wanted him, never loved him. It had cursed him for the longest time and had lead him to live in hatred for most of his life. What kind of monster would turn a family’s child against them? He was not sure, but Dahlia was definitely a monster and he knew one day he would get his revenge on her.
He felt sweat drip down his back, as he realized that he had increased his pace quite a bit since he started thinking about Dahlia and his past. He slowed, his breath heavy as his eyes landed on Atlas, smoke rising from the cigarette that was between his fingers. “Hey man,” he said as he just slowed, his words having come out in a breath, as he just stopped in front of the door. “How’d you sleep?” he asked feeling much more awake than he had ten minutes ago, probably from the adrenalin that pushed him through the running. Atlas seemed pretty cool, although he had an impression that he was gay by how he acted around other guys, even himself once or twice, but he just pushed the idea back in his head. As long as he did not suddenly get turned on by him, he was fine with being friends, otherwise that was just rather awkward for him. Not that he had anything against lesbians, just he was rather uncomfortable by the idea of a guy being attracted to him.
Tag: Atlas
Notes: hehe ♥ nice to finally be able to post with you again! :3
Words: enough
|
|
|
|
Post by atlas on Jul 9, 2011 4:30:31 GMT
Atlas stood in the entrance of the gym for another five minutes before seeing Dylan running pretty fast. He feared that his momentum wouldn’t allow for the quick stop needed before running into Atlas. Putting one foot behind him, Atlas prepared for the collision. Being in a frat, Atlas was used to people drunkenly running into him, so he had mastered the art of not falling, but there was no need. Dylan stopped on a dime. Atlas smirked a bit at just how small Dylan was. Atlas wasn’t a body builder, but compared to Dylan, he may have as well been. Plus, he was wearing what was probably an extra small wife beater, so he looked even smaller. Hey buddy, this was kind of Atlas’s go to greeting. It wasn’t meant to be demeaning or anything. He just thought it was the nicest way to say hi. If they were being honest, Atlas didn’t really even remember making it home last night, and you could probably tell by his appearance how he had slept. He tried to remember what all he drank last night. Jude was in charge of babysitting last night, and sometimes she kind of spaced out, so Atlas was grateful he was alive in the current moment. He loved that girl so much, but sometimes it was kind of hard to tell where her mind was going. I slept like a rock, and by that I mean I feel like a boulder rolled over me. Atlas laughed a little. That was one of the most annoying things Atlas did, laugh at his own jokes. He tried not to, but then he realized that it really shouldn’t matter. He was a funny guy. He couldn’t help it that his jokes made him laugh. Opening the door, Atlas waved his hand like a doorman. His parents had taught him to hold open the door for everyone, because everyone deserves respect, so it wasn’t any kind of gay thing that he opened the door for Dylan, at least not in Atlas’s mind. And, what about you sir? Atlas said with a smirk. I’m a bit taller than you, but I think we took about the same amount of shots. Atlas lead the way into the gym and laid his money on the front counter and greeted the person behind it. He was a semi regular patron of this gym, so most of the employees knew him by name. Atlas paid for the both of them. When his parents died, they left enough money to get both Atlas and his brothers through college, pay for a decent house and live comfortably until they all graduated college. He wasn’t really sure how they made so much money. Sure, they were successful scientist and his father had won the Nobel Prize in biology, but they were never rich, so Atlas assumed that they also had some kind of supernatural income. Muse- Drake Word Count- Enough For- Dylan OOC- Me too, this will be fun! |
|
|
|
Post by DYLAN JAMES COLLINS on Jul 10, 2011 2:16:47 GMT
Dylan just listened to his ‘hey buddy’ and part of him was not sure how to take that, but he just simply went past it and smiled. He just laughed at Atlas’ joke and shrugged, knowing that he pretty much slept the same, having just completely crashed once he saw the bed. Although, he really did not remember much on how he got home or even when he laid down. All he knew was that he woke up with a killer hang over and the fresh air seemed to be partially curing the headache, but he still had this queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He just leaned against the door gently as he waited for them to enter, but he was not sure if Atlas had quite finished his cigarette so he would just be patient for a little while.
Then, he seemed to walk past him, holding the door opening as he held the door and he just smiled softly, “Thank you,” he said as they just seemed to walk through as though it was nothing. Despite only being around a week so far, he had been to the gym quite a few times, especially with Atlas here. He just laughed softly as he commented on the amount of alcohol they both took in and he faintly remembered a competition going on. “Don’t really remember crawling into bed, so I think I just passed out, but I believe I remember something about a competition to see who would win. Who did win anyways?” He asked, his question slightly rhetorical simply because he figured that Atlas did not remember either.
“Thanks for paying for me, although next time I owe you one,” he said as he just shrugged. They both maid there way towards the weight room as he just glanced around at where he might like to begin, but he was rather indecisive today. “Where should we start? I think I’m going to be slightly slow today,” he said, pushing his damp hair to the side.
Tag: atlas
Notes: sorry it’s a bit shorter, my muse was good and then it got killed x_x
Words: 340
|
|
|
|
Post by atlas on Jul 11, 2011 5:55:34 GMT
Atlas laughed under his breath at Dylan’s comment about not remembering getting in bed. Atlas had just thought the same thing. He had thankfully made it home without being jumped or something. He tried his hardest to clear out the black wall in his memory that was caused by alcohol, but nothing helped. Atlas guessed that last night would just join the club with the many other nights that Atlas had either blacked out from drinking too much or forced out of his mind, like the first night without his parents or the time he thought Castor was going to die after he wrecked the car on the way to school. Atlas tried to learn from all his mistakes, but some memories were just too hard to keep in one’s mind. However, the drinking competition was one that Atlas remembered clearly, or at least he remembered initiating a drinking competition with Dylan. “I do remember some kind of drinking competition, and as the ex-president of a fraternity, I believe that I was most likely the victor.” Atlas smirked and playfully punched Dylan in the arm.
Atlas always liked to start his workout with some form of cardio. However, it appeared that Dylan had already spent some time running, and neither one of them had a bathing suit, so they couldn’t swim laps in what was always the nicest place in the gym, the pool, so he figured that they could just work on some free weights. Atlas usually worked out alone, or with Bishop. Castor wasn’t really one for actually lifting weights. He was Atlas’s running partner, but it had been a while regardless since he’d had a partner to max out with. “I figured we could just do some sets of bench, maybe some ab stuff.” Atlas looked over at Dylan, “Don’t worry; I won’t go all personal trainer on you on our first time.” He chuckled and headed over to the weight room. Atlas thought the he and Dylan would be good friends. The seemed to have similar taste in humor, and he didn’t really seem like the kind of guy to go all “Me straight. You gay. No friend,” Tarzan shit. Atlas never understood guys like that. He was a good looking guy. He didn’t have to hit on straight guys. Not only that, but unlike his brother Castor, Atlas wasn’t a fan of having a lot of friends that are girls. He loved Jude, but she wasn’t really like a girl. She was like his sister. Girls just had so much drama surrounding them, and Atlas would much rather just hang out with his bros. There wasn’t all the cattiness and backstabbing that some girls were so in love with.
Atlas opened the door to the weight room and found an empty bench press. He decided to let Dylan go first, so he threw on two of the 50lbs weight and two of the 10lbs. The bar was 20 lbs., so that added up to 140lbs. It was a pretty easy rep, but Atlas didn’t want Dylan to feel intimidated. “So, what do you do? I mean like do you go to school or something?” Atlas knew that Dylan was the same age as him, so he figured he was out of high school, but college lasted basically however long you wanted it too.
Muse- Ellie Goulding
Word Count- Enough
For- Dylan
OOC- No worries love.
|
|
|
|
Post by DYLAN JAMES COLLINS on Jul 12, 2011 5:23:55 GMT
Dylan shook his head at his comment about remembering the competition, at least the winning and the initiation. “You know, next time I’m drink you under the table. We were so close. You know you were on the verge of not being able to handle anymore,” he said teasingly as he just shook his head. These drinking games were always some of the best forms of entertainment he had found since he had found a proper place to stay. He was afraid he might have to abandon this though because he really did not want to stay with Owen and Delilah because he was risking too much by having them both in the same house as him. As much as Owen wanted to stay, and so much more how Dylan wanted to stay himself, he could not risk losing him to Dahlia. He was afraid that if he could not leave soon enough that Owen would get stuck in the middle of this and if anything happened to him, he knew he could never forgive himself. He snapped out of his little thought rant at his words.
“Sounds good,” he simply responded about and laughed at his second set of words, “That’s what they all say,” he simply responded and smirked a bit as he followed Atlas into the weight room. He wondered if this would soon turn into a competition, but at least they were with each other so that they would not hurt each other. That was one of the positives of having someone who would willingly work out with you on a regular basis because you could help each other with weight lifting and losing weight if needed. Dylan knew he did not need to lose weight and if anything, he needed to gain some because he was rather small. Although he was small, he did weigh a bit for a small guy, but still he looked very thin. He just watched Atlas put weight after weight on the bar until the total amount of weight was 140 lbs and he was going to see if he could lift this because he did not work out with weights as much as he ran. Like he looked, he was more of a runner than a lifter or a fighter, so he was not exactly sure how strong he was in this case. Then he popped the question and he was unsure of what to tell him, but he would tell him the truth because he was one of the only friends he had right now and he had a feeling he could trust Atlas with something like this. “It’s quite a long story, but I was home schooled,” he said, sighing as he remembered being locked up in his room and given some classics to read or to work on math and science.
”Well, I’m running from a witch named Dahlia. She stole me from my family when I was born as some sort of revenge, but until this day I don’t know what my parents did to make her so hateful. I recently escaped her,” he said pausing as he waited for him to start lifting, just spotting while he stood behind him. “I need you to not tell anyone. Owen knows, he found me actually,” he said as he just looked at Atlas’ eyes.
|
|
