hard to feel the rush - open

[kya s. wesson]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/30261d_dark-floral.gif); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 0 0 50 50; -webkit-border-radius: 0 0 50 50;] let's get these hearts beating faster, 820 words, outfit, open to whoever <3 in all honesty, tonight was boring. people had been hitting on her, sure. but they were throwing the same lines at her; buying her the same boring drinks, trying the same thing that she'd heard a thousand times before. sometimes there were nights that she could put up with that; sometimes she didn't really care whether they put effort in or were falling over or really anything about them; they were just someone to use and walk away from before the sun rose. but tonight there was no way that was what she was feeling. she wasn't interested in someone boring tonight; she couldn't even say if she was interested in anyone tonight, but if there was anyone, it was going to be someone special. the idea made her snort a little as she turned back to pour a tequila and slide it across the bar to someone that was at least five years younger than her – christ, that made her feel old as hell – and watched their ass as they walked away to the dance floor. hey, if there was one perk to her job it was the ability to watch young hot people who were throwing themselves at each other; and at her, in some cases. but even that wasn't enough to hold her attention tonight; she was just dying to get out of here. and that kind of sucked, because she had at least four more hours ahead of her. she'd clocked off early once already this week, and had the distinct impression that she wouldn't be allowed to again. call it intuition – or, you know, call it being sensible, because there was no way on earth that her boss was that generous. he couldn't be; not when he was running nitro, not to keep the most successful bar and club around as the most successful bar and club around. that didn't mean that she didn't wish he was. because tonight was one night that she wanted to get the fuck out of here. she was pretty sure that it was showing on her face, too, which might have been the reason that it was only the completely smashed who were bothering her and throwing the boring, boring lines at her. but whatever the reason for it was, she didn't appreciate it, because despite the thumping music and and barking drink orders at her, she was going to fall asleep if people didn't do something interesting soon. stepping back from the bar, she stepped into the back room for a few moments, leaning against the wall to try to catch her breath. she didn't know what was wrong with her. she loved working here. she didn't want to work anywhere else. but tonight, she sure as hell didn't want to be here, either. groaning, she dropped her head against the wall a few times and tried to figure out what the fuck she was going to do to keep herself awake. there was one person she'd seen through the night that was vaguely interested in, but that was one person and she didn't even know if they were interested in her. not even necessarily to go home with, but just to not make her feel like she was going to pass out on the top of the bar. she couldn't rely on them, though. she had to rely on herself. after all, that was who she'd been relying on for the past seven years at least – well, more, but giving herself more would probably be giving herself too much. sighing, she reached back towards the bar for a bottle of house vodka and poured herself a double shot. drinking on the job wasn't strictly forbidden, though nor was it condoned; tonight, though, she needed it. they could take it out of her pay, anyway; not that two shots of any house vodka was actually worth all that much. dropping the shot glass, she forced a smile onto her face and walked back out to the bar before she got her pay docked for a break that hadn't been given to her. leaning down onto the bar, she went through the movements, not caring whether it was right or not; or really anything about the entire thing. glancing at the clock, she couldn't manage to suppress a groan. somehow, it had only been ten minutes since she had last looked; and now, with three hours and fifty minutes to go, she didn't know that she was going to get through the rest of her shift without hexing someone in the face or falling asleep. she had to do, though; she had to make her rent this week, for god's sake. she was grateful, then, when she turned back to the bar to find the one interesting person in the entire bar tonight. hi hi

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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

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[oliver]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.tinypic.com/wb98wn.jpg');,true] NOBODY DRINKS ALONE! A typical day in the life as Oliver Maddox was quite boring. Being the manager at the busiest book store in Diagon Alley didn’t bring much entertainment. The adult did like to read, however there were some days where he couldn’t stand to sit still for so long and concentrate on the words written across the page in front of him. Lately, he had been noticing how the new girl he had employed was.. different. Now he didn’t mean this in a bad way, instead of a curious manner. In the whole twenty-five years of his life, he had never met somebody with MPD (multiple personality disorder). Until now. The girl he had hired told him her name was Arya. She gave a great interview and for the first few shifts, she was the same, sweet employee he had hired not that long ago. It had been in front of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes where he had accidently bumped into her and bam- a second personality revealed. Arya had acted like she was twelve years old. She talked differently, loved candy far too much for a nineteen year old and didn’t have that great of an attention span. It had confused him, though he wasn’t sure what to say at that point. It wasn’t like he could just go, “hey, why are you so immature outside of work?” That would be straight-up rude, and Oliver wasn’t that type of guy. He had let it slide without much thought until about a week later, Arya came in for her shirt and she wasn’t nice and sweet, nor was she childish and disoriented. This time around she was bitchy and impatient. Everyone had something going on in their lives, and because he had never come across what was happening right in front of him he had excused himself and gone over to the section about mental disorders. It didn’t take long before he found out what was going on- however, he had stopped at St. Mungos to make sure she wasn’t just fucking with his mind and trying to be funny in a twisted sort of way. With people these days, one couldn’t ever really be a hundred percent sure. As it turned out, the girl he had hired was indeed named Arya Wallece and she had three different personalities, each one unaware of what went on when they weren’t present. Oliver had tried to imagine such a thing, and for awhile he thought he may be close but then when he thought about it again, that sort of mind-twisting thing could only really be known by those who suffered from it. Oliver had his problems, but like always he put them aside and made sure that he was understanding towards whatever side of Arya came around. He wasn’t prejudice. It wasn’t her fault she had something chemically wrong in her brain. He found her to be an interesting employee, and in a book store there was always a need for a little spice anyways. Tonight, to let go and forget everything that had been clogging up his mind, Oliver decided it was time to visit Nitro. The Hufflepuff alumni wasn’t much of a partier, or even a partier at all for that matter, but he went out every once and awhile to have some ‘fun’ with his friends. Tonight Oliver found himself going alone, not caring too much that he was by himself. Dressing himself in casual clothing, he apperated to the local night bar around eleven o’clock. Getting in was no problem, as he was over the age limit required. It was somewhat amusing watching the young teenagers trying to get in when clearly, they weren’t going too. The fact that the bar was build in the magical world, and not the muggle world, made it a hell of a lot harder to get into underage. Magic helped a lot if it needed too, and there was no getting passed it. Everything with spells was inevitable to avoid. Looking around him, Oliver saw the flashing lights, huge crowds of people talking and dancing, guys flirting it up with girls in one of the corner booths. Rolling his eyes, Oliver had never understood why other men felt the need to be womanizers. Wasn’t one girl enough? In his mind, it would be though he didn’t have one girl; he had zero. Oliver was a single man. Making his way over to the bar, he created a small path between the people, not caring for the squished environment the dance floor brought but putting up with it anyways. He had come to Nitro willing, therefore there was no complaining allowed. Taking a seat where there was no one on either side of him, he waited for the bar tender to approach him. From what he could see, she was a pretty girl and he wasn’t the only one who was noticing this. Other men sitting at the bar top were hitting on her. Once again he found himself rolling his eyes at them. Really? Was there not more class than that? Thinking about it again, he was in a bar; but still. Women deserved respect, no matter what their job was. Waiting, Oliver started to decide what he even wanted to drink. He hadn’t thought about it much and he wasn’t exactly an avid drinker. 892 WORDS , KYA , listening to KEITH URBAN , FINITO!

table by california dreaming @ caution 2.0

[kya s. wesson]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/30261d_dark-floral.gif); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 0 0 50 50; -webkit-border-radius: 0 0 50 50;] let's get these hearts beating faster, 809 words, outfit, oliver, yay! he was attractive enough, at least, but that wasn't what drew kya's attention. there was something about him... that certain je ne sais quoi, if you wanted to go down the french route. there wasn't really a way to put it in english, either. on top of that, she was sure that she knew him... or at least recognised him. if he was magic, which he was, because nitro was a magical bar, she'd probably gone to school with him. she was pretty sure that he wasn't in her year, but then again, she hadn't taken much notice of most people if she wasn't friends with them or fucking them at the time. as hot as this guy was, he didn't look like the sort that she'd fucked. he looked too... nice. he also looked like he didn't really fit in at nitro; he was simultaneously dressed too nicely and too casually and didn't really look... well, comfortable. maybe that was what had caught her attention. she'd seen that look in the eyes of enough people that she'd grown up with. that... lost, sad, confused look. she'd seen it enough times in the eyes of others, but never in the mirror; she'd been angry, sure, but never sad. people didn't believe her... she'd been dragged to various child psychologists in her youth, even before she'd clocked her foster mother one at fifteen and been locked in that facility for the summer. all of them had thought she was secretly depressed, but none of them had actually managed to pin a diagnosis on her. of course, that hadn't stopped them medicating her that summer, but that hadn't lasted long. that was all in the past now, though; she was an adult, now, had been independent for seven years. had been working in this place for four, after quitting the muggle bar she had before. people knew her - and she knew the people who came to nitro. and this guy wasn't one of them. it wasn't just because she'd know his face, either. but kya prided herself on not judging people, and she certainly wasn't about to judge this guy; wouldn't because he was hot, because he looked sad, because anything. she had been the one on the receiving end of that for years, and turning that around on someone else was... wrong. she was spacing out, though, and she should be focusing on her job and, you know, getting the guy whatever it was that he would want to drink. it took a moment before she focused enough to smile and leaned forward onto her elbows, raising an eyebrow at the guy. "what can i get you, sugar?" she asked. she couldn't help but feel that maybe he didn't know, that he wasn't sure of himself here. she might have been completely wrong, but it didn't stop her from raising a hand. "hold that thought," she said, and turned to the wall of bottles of liquor. that, at least, made her relax a little; this was what she was good at, this was what she loved. stepping up onto the step, she summoned the green chartreuse and gin to her and started to mix up one of her concoctions. it wasn't exactly the most common drink combination... after all, she'd come up with it herself... but she liked it, and those that she normally gave it to said that it reminded them of her. mixing everything together, she topped it with the ice and mint leaves before sliding it across the bar to the guy. "if you don't like it, i'll get you something different. but i've been given compliments about this particular number before," she said, a little grin on her face. she drummed her fingers against the top of the bar, and glanced around; thankfully, there weren't many people looking for drinks right now, or they were being taken care of. it gave her the time to start wiping down glasses, and looking at the guy more closely. now, she was more sure that she had seen him before, but that they hadn't been in the same year. no matter how drunk she'd been at hogwarts at times, by her final year she'd spoken to everyone in her year at least once. that left a little older or a little younger, and she would have guessed older, but she wasn't certain... not at all. she couldn't help her curiosity as she started to wipe down glasses and put them away, watching him, and since he was the only thing that did manage to keep her interested tonight, she wasn't about to stop herself. "do i know you?" she asked, leaning up to put a rack of glasses back up above the bar. she was still, technically, doing her job... even if she was muddling around a bit. hi hi

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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

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[oliver]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i53.tinypic.com/wb98wn.jpg');,true] NOBODY DRINKS ALONE School had been a time that seemed so far away from the present. Memories weren’t something he was too fond of, and reminiscing in the past hadn’t ever exactly been his ‘thing.’ If a friend or even his mom were to ask about all of those years ago, he would by no means avoid talking about it. Oliver’s ‘problem’ was the only thing that ever stopped him from thinking back to his childhood and teenage years, as it had been worse than then it was now. People often didn’t look for signs of masochism; instead they looked for depression, bi-polar- the more common problems friends and family developed at some point in their life. At first, when people hadn’t noticed that he was struggling with a whole bunch of things and resorting to hurting himself, and liking it, the problem grew and eventually, it was diagnosed as a true problem. When he thought back to school, the person he thought of first was Peyton. She had always been his best friend, but to this day she had no idea. They were supposed to meet sometime soon, catch-up while her father was out of town and unable to keep his eye on her, and sitting there watching the bartender walk up to him, he wondered how she would react. Scenarios’ raced through his mind, judging reactions that he could see as potential Peyton-like emotions. The thing was, no matter how crazy he was about her, she was always so unpredictable for him. Being unpredictable was, in fact, one of the characteristics that he liked most about her. Far too many girls these days were predictable, the same and clique. It wasn’t in his taste. In his own train of thought, Oliver was only half aware that she had asked him a question, as well as held up her hand to stop him from saying something that hadn’t been coming out anytime soon. Even if his thoughts hadn’t been in the sky, he would have been asking question after question to try and narrow the choices down. Variety when it came to alcohol was so vast a non-drinker like himself was doomed to drown without help. That or never coming to the part in their life where they tried something that wasn’t as simple as straight rum or vodka. Something that Oliver always liked to do, considering he hated his own, was put himself in other’s shoes. Whoever the choice was he didn’t choose because of knowing them. Sometimes they were complete strangers and his mind would go off on what their life could be like, using imagination of all sorts, all leading to something better than the issues he dealt with on a daily basis. Looking at the bartender, he wasn’t sure what he would do in her shoes. Being behind that bar, surrounded by drunken men and alcohol, it would be all so overwhelming. Though that was also coming from Oliver Oliver, not Oliver stuck in someone else’s shoes that would know what they were doing. Pressing his lips together, he felt the smoothness of his lips as he examined the drink in front of him. The liquid was sure to make his lips moist instead of just smooth; he wasn’t sure what to think of it though. To begin, what was it? He hadn’t watched her combine all of the drinks and mixed up the contraption. For all he knew, it could be anything. Sucking in a deep breath, Oliver decided that he didn’t care. He had come to a bar to not think, just do; therefore he picked up the glass, pressed it to his lips and drank. The taste was thick, strong and at first, a shock to his system. Eyes widening a bit, he smiled as he put the glass down on the bar top. ”You’re right. It’s sure something. Can I get another, as well as a shot of vodka, please?”

[/b] Oliver didn’t care if he was in a bar. Manners were necessary anywhere, at least to him they were. It was like his own, personal golden rule. To save her from potential embarrassment, Oliver kept his mouth shut about being aware of the fact that she was watching him. Surely for someone more self-conscious it would have been awful to sit there, but even with him not thinking he was attractive and all, he wasn’t fully attentive to care enough and wander into why she would be looking at him so much. As it turned out, not mentioning anything was the way to go. In the end, she had explained herself by asking one simple question: did she know him. Really looking up for the first time, he took in her curvy figure, making sure not actually creepily checking her out like the guy a few chairs down from him was, dark brown hair, eyes and semi-pale, semi- tanned skin. Surprised that she had recognized him, he did in fact recognize her now that he thought about it, but he wasn’t sure from where. ”Maybe.”[/b] he shrugged, unsure of what to go on. ”Do you read a lot?”[/b] being the owner of a bookstore, there were quite a few faces that came and went, and more often than not they recognized him before he recognized them. ”If not I’m going to say that we went to school together. Hogwarts? I’m going to take a guess that you’re about nineteen? Which would have put you in your second year if I was in my seventh..”[/b] musing, the legal age for wizards and witches was eighteen, so to have a job here she had to be over that. Getting a job that young and somewhere so local was also very unlikely, so he gave her another year on that. With his math going on by guessing her age, it was more likely that she was a reader because of the fact that him recognizing a second year so many years later, especially a girl who would have developed, it was just so unlikely.
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1007 WORDS , KYA , listening to NADA , pending!

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table by california dreaming @ caution 2.0

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