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Post by LILLIAN ELIZABETH AUSTERLITZ on Apr 17, 2010 22:29:10 GMT -5
[/size][/center] Tag: Open Notes: This is the result of being exhausted from being in a car for 9 hours. Sorry it's so crappy Outfit: click here[/ul] |
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 18, 2010 13:31:30 GMT -5
An annual bonfire? Okay, seriously, he found the idea a bit childish and very highschool, but could he really complain? It was the first time he was ever in an actual schooling system of any kind other than being homeschooled by world class tutors at his grandparents' manor. The only social events he attended were only because of work and thus, his social skills were not exactly the best. In a way he was a loner but in another way, he just didn't give two craps about anyone or that ridiculous division between new money and old money. Money was money and either way it bore him to such an extreme that he was willing to bet that everyone in the academy would basically only interact with each other for the rest of their lives. They'd be forced to marry one another, pop out a few kids, and it would be the usual cycle of traditions and drama that never left highschool. It gave him a headache just thinking about it.
Also, apparently his family had hosted such a bonfire the previous year...He was extremely relieved he missed it and didn't come until this year. Around this time last year he had been in China getting some extra training in Martial Arts though he had already gotten a black belt years prior. He didn't want to get rusty. Getting rusty or making a single mistake could cost him his life in the type of work he was involved in and if you were honestly wondering what type of job really involved such precautions and extremes, he was a hired hitman for the Italian Mob. No, not hired, the hitman. He did their dirty work so to speak but he was obviously good at what he did and was extremely discreet. Why chose the first born Montague for such a task? After all, the last anyone heard of him prior to his reappearance in society, he was five years old and had Acute Lymphatic Leukemia. Could he still relapse? Of course. Would he? He refused to. But it was the main reason they chose him, they being his parents. He almost died as a kid and it seemed like since he would probably not live to pass on the family last name, why not train him at such a young age to do the bidding of those who kept such a prestigious family safe and alive for so many years? They always had Alessio as a son after all.
With a glass of Scotch in his hand, Giovanni did, in a way, look like some Greek God that arose from the depth of the sea and decided that now was a good time to explore the world around him. He did not look awkward or odd standing at the far edges of the crowd looking out into the ocean. He did not look lonely nor apathetic but simply there. He had no real expression on his attractive face, his free hand deep in one of his pockets of his white loose fitted pants, his hair slightly bed head messy but only because he had gotten off the plane from Morocco not too long ago, and of course no shirt covering his raw chest which was lined with chiseled abs as if he were sculpted from stone. It was obvious while he was gone all those years that he worked out a lot. The only thing that could give away his actual occupation was the bullet wound that was on the back of his left shoulder which was the main reason his parents sent him to the academy in the first place. After getting a call that he was being treated by a private family doctor because of a bullet wound received by his own very angry grandfather, well, his parents weren't exactly happy. They still pressured him to do as he was told and to still officially live with his grandparents, but they thought maybe some social interaction would do him some good...Not really. It only made him even more bored with high society and its many expectations.
Taking the last gulp, he put the glass on a tray as a waitress seemed to walk by. In his peripheral, he could see her eyes wandering his frame but he ignored it. He didn't want to be bothered by young, pesky highschool females who were barely legal. She looked what? Fourteen? Obviously she was only waitress to be able to have access to such a prestigious event...If one could even call it prestigious. It was as horrible as it probably was all the other years before it. Letting a large yawn escape him, he pulled out an expensive cigarette, lit it up, and took a drag. He looked surprisingly at ease but terribly bored. Maybe later that evening he would hop on a plane and go somewhere else. Most of his professors seemed to just disregard him and his lack of attendance since he still handed the work in via email but over all, well, Brazil sounded a bit better than Greece and he knew he had an 'assignment' there that needed to be taken care of by the end of the month...Might as well get a head start on it, right?
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Post by LILLIAN ELIZABETH AUSTERLITZ on Apr 18, 2010 21:16:38 GMT -5
[/color] She smiled briefly and friendly. So yes, she could be a bitch, but she wasn't one always. "I thought the party was going to only be for Santa Croce students. I'd like to think I know everyone who matters there, but I've never seen you before. Do you go there?"[/size][/center] Tag: Open Notes: Sort of crappy, but it's still the beginning. I'm assuming the ic-box chat wouldn't have happened. If you were thinking otherwise, let me know. Outfit: click here[/ul] |
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 18, 2010 21:57:43 GMT -5
The cancer stick definitely put his mind at ease along with the crashing waves not too far out. He had been a bit lost within nature and his own mind so he hadn't noticed anything else around him to the fullest; not until the leggy female seemed to walk over. He didn't bother looking in her direction since she obviously didn't pose a threat. She was what? 5'9? 5'10? He was 6'2 so he did have some height on her, though he wasn't exactly a fan of his height at times. It was a bit annoying when he was working and trying to blend in with the environment when he stuck out like a sore thumb just because everyone was so damn short. When she spoke and mentioned toward the cigarette, he simply took another drag and let the wind blow the smoke in the direction away from her. He would stop since she was the hostess-but once he was done with it. He wasn't going to waste a perfectly good cigarette just because she most likely didn't like it. Unless she wanted to instead chat up an agitated Giovanni, it would be best to just let him have his daily dosage.
"Just began attending," unlike his siblings with their thick Italian accents, his was a mixture of what seemed like a ton of different languages all into one smooth, golden tone that seemed to match his appearance but there was distance in his voice. There was always distance to prove he didn't like attachment and it was why he had slightly protested about attending the prestigious academy in the first place. The last thing he needed was to actually make friends. No, he didn't need them. They would never know anything about them and pretending to be interested was simply insulting in his eyes and prodding for information just to satisfy one's curiosity? Wasn't that considered rude? Maybe his parents were right-he did lack a great deal of social skills and maybe this was a good opportunity to actually socialize with those his age instead of just adults all the time since that was all he was surrounded by since birth.
"Giovanni Montague," he took another long drag, finishing it and then leaving it in an empty cup of that same waitress passing by again, easily grabbing another scotch in a smooth way that someone might mistaken him for an adult business man-old money of course. Though he really could care less about money and the classifications it came with, he did like to use it against other who found it offensive because it was entertaining and anything entertaining was good in his eyes. He was terribly tired of being bored, "And I can't say I have the faintest idea who you are, hostess," again that smooth, distant, mysterious glass like voice of his that could probably make any female weak in the knees and that held such a charm it was quite unpredictable that he was oblivious to it's own powers.
Finally, he glanced over at her, his stormy hazel teal eyes locking onto her's fearlessly before taking an elegant drink from his scotch, as elegant as a man could get without seeming completely gay. He ran his fingers through his dark hair as he seemed to bring the majority of his attention to her. Now glancing at her, though he was easily discreet when checking out a female, he could tell she was obviously the hostess, or one of them since it was held by a family right? He didn't know how these shindigs went anyhow. He could say she was attractive, though after traveling to so many places it was sometimes hard to compare women from the world. Considering it was technically a highschool he was attending, he could say she was in the better looking end of the population. Her smile would probably be what would have won him over if he was completely drunk. Was it strange he loved to see women smile? He found laugh lines a lot more attractive than a giant set of breasts. Probably because he didn't smile enough himself to have laugh lines of his own.
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Post by LILLIAN ELIZABETH AUSTERLITZ on Apr 21, 2010 14:53:31 GMT -5
[/color] Maybe she would have smiled in welcome, but what was the point? He wasn't even looking at her. Apparently he didn't feel the need to make eye contact when he was talking with someone. She was tempted to call him out on it, but she managed to refrain. He was new and she wanted to have a good time, not get into an argument. He was certainly lucky she was in a good mood and feeling oddly patient. Still, that patience probably wouldn't hold for much longer. "I guess you're transferring from somewhere? Since you definitely don't look like a freshman to me." Wasn't he just Mr. Sociable? You'd think if he said he just moved he'd give an explanation. Apparently not. Of course, the fact that he wouldn't want to talk to her would be something hard for Lillian to digest so it hadn't crossed her mind yet. A better explanation would be that he was just antisocial or something since as far as she was concerned she was a pleasure to be around. Once again something she was raised to believe. She was hoping to get a feel of where he was from when he spoke, but that turned out to not work. She couldn't tell. What she could tell though was the distance in his voice, just something else adding to her annoyance with him. As if it was an answer to her questions, he said his name. Giovanni Montague. Montague. That must have been it. Did he think he was too worthy to talk to her? Before she could think any further on the topic, he spoke again, once more in that smooth and mysterious voice. Lillian would never admit to it, but she was intrigued by the mystery about him. She'd grown up with all the old money kids; she knew so much about all of them it was almost boring. Now, here was someone new and different, someone she didn't know everything about. However, he didn't even have the respect to face her or anything. And, he didn't know who she was. It wasn't like she was some no name poor person. Her family was known worldwide. "It would certainly be an amazing feat if you did know who I was. I'd say it would be hard to recognize a person if you aren't even looking at said person." She managed to say it without any bitchiness in her tone; it was emotionless, as if she was just stating a fact. On the inside it was a completely different scenario but he didn't need to know that. Luckily, for him or her she didn't really know, he finally glanced over in her direction. Took him long enough. It wasn't even like she wanted the attention--okay, maybe a little was due to that--but more just the common courtesy and respect you showed a person when you were having a conversation. If what they were doing could even be called a conversation since he didn't seem to have a lot to say. Her vibrant bluish green eyes looked back directly into his. Lillian was never one that shyed away from eye contact or felt intimidated by it. Good thing she wasn't drunk otherwise she certainly wouldn't have been able to hold up as well as she had been as far as annoyance or anger went. "Lillian Austerlitz. Nice to meet you." No matter where he came from, she felt like he should know her last name, but she wasn't going to make a big deal of it. The new money students might, but all the old money ones were beyond that and didn't need to justify themselves. "So you must be related to Alessio? Are you his cousin?" That would be what made sense to her. They had the same last name and it would explain why he hadn't grown up near Santa Croce. [/size][/center] Tag: Open Notes: -- Outfit: click here[/ul] |
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 21, 2010 23:37:37 GMT -5
Obviously, Giovanni wasn't exactly one for manners. It was not how he was raised which was radically different from everyone attending this little bonfire and even his own siblings. So when she asked her little questions as if by means of keeping the dull conversation going, he figured he'd answer them as long as they remained superficial surface questions and did not go any deeper than basic facts. He wasn't exactly proud of the way he grew up and letting people know too much about him would only prove to be a problem in the future and putting them in harms way. The whole point was secrecy. It was what the Italian Mafia was based off of, "Not transferring. I was homeschooled," he wouldn't say where and wouldn't bother going into detail about it. Though he was very keen on details, like how her stance, the tension in her muscles, and the undertones in her voice easily gave her away. He could already tell right off the bat that she was terribly annoyed with him or simply found him rude and a nuisance. It wouldn't be the first time he observed such behaviors. She was obviously used to attention and probably, though he was exaggerating on this action, having the ground on which she walked upon kissed at by new money or even other old money students and staff. Did he give two shits?
Absolutely not.
And her last name? Didn't mean a simple thing to him. Names were names. They were only powerful if one made them powerful and gave them meaning. Currently, Austerlitz, to him, meant conceited, self absorbed, annoyed, and uptight people all grouped together and called an old money family because, since she felt the need to say her last name as did he, she had to be old money. There were just a tad bit of old money traditions he would probably never be able to shake off, "And I am a year twelve, if it wasn't obvious enough, Miss Austerlitz," that was one of them. Once they said their last name, it was all he could truly remember them by and thus it was all he called them. Miss this and Mister that. It was, in a way, him showing respect though most found it odd that he did sucha thing when most students only did it when in front of adults and needing to make a very respectable impression for their sakes and their family's sake. Giovanni simply did it all the time out of habit and because, again, he grew up surrounded by people radically older than he was-never his age or younger. This was all completely new to him.
"Pleasure is mine," oh how old school he tended to be. He really hated his habits but he didn't really care. He was only attending Santa Croce to seem normal and because he got shot. If he never had gotten shot by that blasted Russian he would still be out there, getting training in China most likely, and not having to worry whether everyone around him found out where he had been for eighteen years or what..."His older brother actually," he corrected her but not matter of factly, simply smoothly, "Don't know him very well, though," in case she asked him questions about Alessio. He barely knew any of his immediate family. He knew all his aunts and uncles and grandparents but his mother, father, and siblings? Little to nothing other than what he learned about him whenever he was occasionally home over the summers and between the ages of birth and five when he wasn't being hospitalized, "Are you a friend of his?"
She seemed like she would be. Leggy, blond, he'd say she was attractive but he really wasn't all that attracted mentally to women his age or younger. He obviously spoke like an adult old money male business man would. He had the slight arrogance or at least it seemed like it because he didn't bother looking at her. Now, if she was, let's say, in her twenties? The first thing he would have done was lock eyes with her and face her to speak with her instead of waiting until she introduced herself to actually turn slightly to give her his attention. Older women weren't so full of themselves like, apparently, highschool girls were. Plus, they had a lot more to offer in many departments and could actually keep up a conversation that didn't involve a) his family b) his wealth c) his sex life and d) how wonderfully amazing they were at just about everything and nothing at all. Still, he'd rather hear a woman ramble about herself than her poking and prodding for answers from him. He disliked talking about himself immensely and it was why he had easily turned the conversation to focus back on her. She probably wouldn't mind-unless she was curious enough.
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Post by LILLIAN ELIZABETH AUSTERLITZ on Apr 24, 2010 0:09:10 GMT -5
 That expression that a conversation was like pulling teeth, it seemed to be that way with Giovanni. Was it so hard to carry on a conversation? Would it be that difficult to elaborate. Now, she understood wanting to keep some things private, but in her mind it didn't seem like the questions she was asking were invasive or anything. They were simple questions that she'd easily answer for anyone if he had asked her. "Oh, really? Well I guess that explains a lot." Perhaps that was why he was so standoffish and had a seemingly lack of social interactions. If he was home schooled he probably didn't get to interact as much with other people his age and thus didn't learn how to act. If he asked her what she had meant, she wouldn't lie. It still wasn't an excuse to be rude though, home schooled or not. "Did you like it? Being home schooled?" She was giving him plenty of options to work with that he could talk about, but he wasn't taking any of them. It was a little strange, to her at least, that he was home schooled for eleven years and then decided to not be home schooled and go to an actual school. She kept it to herself for the time being however. There should be a freaking award for the patience she was showing. She would surely make her mother proud. Just thinking about making her mother proud was amusing enough that a small smirk appeared on her lips. As if her mother would ever be proud of her. She'd been down that road before and was content with giving up on that impossible goal.
Lillian was distracted by her own thoughts, looking away for a few moments before she heard his voice. if it wasn't obvious enough. Was he insinuating something? Yes, she would have guessed he was year twelve, but who knows. There were always people who looked older than they were. Was it such a crime that she didn't automatically know for sure what grade he was in? Hardly. Maybe she was looking too far into his words. Yes, that must have been it. "I figured you were, but you can never really be sure. Or, at least I can't." It was her somewhat admitting to have some sort of fault/thing she couldn't do. Who would have guessed? But what was even more confusing was him referring to her as Miss Austerlitz. It made absolutely no sense at all to her. "I don't understand it. For whatever reason you didn't feel the need to look at me, the polite thing to do, until halfway through our conversation, but now you're calling me Miss Austerlitz? A more respectful way of addressing me than Lillian." How did that make any sort of sense? Unless he was mocking her and last name which she hoped was not the case; it hadn't seemed like that.
As he said the pleasure was his, Lillian rolled her eyes. It wasn't in a mean spiteful way, but more at the fact that it didn't seem true and he felt obligated to say it. He certainly didn't seem to be enjoying the conversation with her. "Once again with a social nicety yet you're still so lacking in other ones. You don't have to lie to me. I'd say it's pretty obvious you're not thrilled about being at this bonfire or talking to me. We don't have to have the planned script that all conversations involving rich people say when they get together. I don't know about you, but I find it incredibly boring." She had the whole rest of her life to enjoy doing that if her mother got her way. Of course, Lillian was determined to be anything other than a socialite and housewife, but as much as Lillian despised her mother, she knew Linda generally always got her way so it wasn't going to be so easy to break away from the traditional family. Good thing she was just as stubborn and prideful as her parents were. She definitely had the drive.
He just kept surprising her. It wasn't something that normally happened and Lillian wasn't sure how she felt about it. She generally liked to know about people so that she could always be in control of the conversation and in general, but then again she did still like the fact that there was someone she didn't know about. So he was Alessio's older brother? And he didn't know Alessio? That was...odd. Once again, he didn't elaborate. That was to be expected this time around. "I didn't know he had an older brother. And you were home schooled and don't know your own little brother very well. What, since you were the oldest were you taken away to undergo extreme personal training so that you can be the perfect replacement for your father when he retires?" It was completely ridiculous in her mind and so she grinned a little and shook her head the ridiculousness. His father's company supplied military weapons and as far as she knew they didn't follow ancient Spartan ways of sending the sons off to become warriors or in this case CEOs.
"As for your brother, you're nothing like him and I'm sure it won't take you long to know all you need to know about him." It wasn't really meant to be insulting towards Alessio; to Lillian though, he wasn't very difficult to figure out, or perhaps she just didn't care enough to try and just saw the surface. "If you were like him this conversation would have been entirely different." That was for sure. "A friend of his? I'm not sure if that's how I would really put it, but I know him." They were constantly fighting and trying to beat each other with wits or fake flirting with each other. Lillian would deny it, but she did find it all somewhat amusing and didn't dislike him as much as she let on all the time. "He never mentioned having an older brother. Were you taken away at birth secretly?" She grinned again, knowing she was being stupid, but at the moment she couldn't give a damn. At least she was amusing herself. That was all that mattered, wasn't it?
Open Notes: -- Outfit: click here[/blockquote] |
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 24, 2010 22:34:34 GMT -5
Giovanni wouldn't show that he was amused. It wasn't like him to do so and it wasn't something his grandfather would exactly smile upon. He did like, though, that she wasn't as annoying as the others. At least she was blunt and straight forward which he respected in other people. It showed she had strong character but she still seemed stuck up and he knew he must have as well or as if he was raised improperly. When she asked about being homeschooled, he shrugged, "It was..." he seemed to pause, searching for the right words, "Intense, interesting, and a bit of a wake up call," he was honest thus far. It was intense with all the training, interesting because of the concepts and traveling, and then a wake up call because it showed him a lot about life; more than any other these people could ever know. It showed him how easily one's life could be taken away-in just a single breathe. Like right now, he could easily with one swift movement of his hand, hit the pressure point located between her neck and her shoulder and she would be on the floor almost instantly and if no one was paying enough attention, it would simply look like she fainted. Hitting a pressure point in the exact right spot could easily render someone paralyzed or to be stuck in a coma for at least a little while.
But it wasn't like he wanted or needed to kill her. He was rarely ever told to go after old money families since they all seemed connected, "I do not refer to anyone by their first names, Miss Austerlitz," he chuckled slightly, momentarily locking his eyes onto her's but not for long. It wasn't like he was avoiding her eyes but it seemed like he only did so...when amused or entertained...or enjoying himself in any way possible. A smile? Don't look directly at her. It was almost like maybe he could get away with it if he didn't look, "It's a way to avoid attachment and to keep things less personal," basically, it was a bad habit from being homeschooled. But when he did say it was a pleasure, he did mean it. It was a pleasure to meet her especially from such a well known family. Considering his parents and her parents were currently playing match maker he was slightly honored to meet her. After all, she might become a sister in law someday.
"And I was not lying," he locked his eyes onto her's, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I do not lie," he really didn't and in many ways, he took many words literally because he had to. He wasn't going to start reading between the lines. He did that once for his ex girlfriend and only girlfriend for that matter and though he seemed to become a master of the art, once she passed away he really didn't bother. He didn't want to read people unless necessary. And after she went on about something that had to do with his younger sibling and himself, he shook his head a bit, not looking directly at her but instead down at the scotch in his hands and taking a swig, "You could say it was something like that," he didn't elaborate. He never did even if it was just to keep a conversation flowing. That was definitely one subject he would much rather not dwell on, "But I do not plan on taking over my father's business," he looked over at her, "That's Alessio's place. Not mine."
No, he did not have the privilege of even being considering to take over the family business. They chose Alessio when he was born and if not they would give it to Bellamy. Either way, it would be anyone but himself. Hell, they didn't even expect him to be alive this long, "I was sick at birth," he knew he was allowed to talk about that since the adults of the old money families knew all about it. Whether their kids did was a different story and he was pretty damn sure they didn't. "And after being in and out of the hospital for five years, I was sent away to be homeschooled," he glanced down at his drink, swirling the ice cubes around a bit, "Just not at home," he knew it probably made no sense to her but he was basically saying that he wasn't homeschooled in the home where his siblings were raised in or where his parents lived. By homeschooled, he meant he was homeschooled in another home and lived with other people. The home was the home of his grandparents and it was what he learned to call home as the years trailed on, "And I'm sure Alessio would much rather have nothing to do with me and rightfully so," he took a swig absently, not caring about the slight burn in the back of his throat since he was well accustomed to it by now. Alessio really didn't want anything to do with him and probably because he knew what Giovanni was always up to whenever he was on those trips or why he was sent away in the first place. Only Alessio had managed to figure it out. The rest of his siblings either knew and turned a blind eye to it or they just didn't care. Either way it was too late. He was never the best at making up for lost time.
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Post by LILLIAN ELIZABETH AUSTERLITZ on May 3, 2010 17:57:39 GMT -5
Lillian hadn’t thought it to be a difficult question she asked, but he seemed unsure how to put what he felt into words. But then again he said interesting, so perhaps he hadn’t wanted to say whether he enjoyed it or not; interesting was a diplomatic answer, not really answering her question at all of if he liked it or not. She wasn’t going to push it, what would be the point? However, what he said after about it being a wake up call confused her. She titled her head a little in confusion and asked, “A wake up call? What, was it really hard? I guess it could be with the individual attention, but I can’t imagine it could be much more difficult than Santa Croce.” It would really be unacceptable in her family for Lillian not to care about or do well in school; just because she had money and popularity did not mean that she slacked off. Contrary to popular beliefs, she did do well in school and did work hard, but even she would have to admit that the academics at the academy were not a stroll through the park. Of course it made sense since it would give them a very competitive edge when it came to getting into colleges, but regardless she definitely would not want to be enrolled in a harder high school program. Now, that might not have even been what he meant, but she wasn’t entirely certain what else would have been a wake up call in regards to home schooling.
A laugh? That wasn’t expected. He had been fairly emotionless the whole time she was talking to him. It had just been a chuckle, but still. And eye contact. “Wow. What have I done to get a laugh and eye contact from you?” She asked, over exaggerating her shock a little in her tone; it was all in good fun, at least to her, to playfully tease him about it. As she asked she couldn’t help but smirking a little. His response to her question did make sense, but she was still once again left wondering why, not fully satisfied with the answer he gave. It wasn’t exactly her business, but she was supposed to be getting to know him, wasn’t she? Then getting some insight into what he thought shouldn’t be considered being nosy or snooping in her opinion at least. “I’m all for keeping things less personal with some people, maybe a lot of people, but I can’t see why it needs to be done with everyone. Maybe, maybe when you first meet someone, but what about your friends or family? Do you call them by their last name too? Or not want to get emotionally attached? Doesn’t exactly seem like a way to live if you ask me.” He hadn’t asked her, but that wasn’t stopping her from giving him her two cents so to speak. Even she was emotionally attached to people and she wasn’t winning any awards for her niceness to most people anytime soon; she liked to think she was independent as well, but she did rely on her friends for support or fun or just human connection in general.
Lillian looked back directly into his eyes as he answered her and now she got a smirk. Maybe they were making progress. Most likely it didn’t have anything to do with her, but she was grateful she wasn’t talking to just his face or the side of his head for the most part now. “Oh? You don’t lie?” She couldn’t help it; she let out a short laugh in disbelief and shook her head in disagreement. “I think anyone who says he or she doesn’t lie is a liar. Everyone lies.” She’d never once run into a person who did not lie. There were the people who were brutally honest and the people who tried to do the right thing by telling the truth, but in her opinion everyone messed up at some point. It was impossible; lying was just part of human nature. Maybe it was a bit of a cynical or pessimistic look on human nature, but it was what she had always believed. Her thoughts on lying stopped when he replied with yet another ambiguous answer. “Something like that, huh? Well we’ll keep that one a mystery.” Not like he seemed to have been willing to talk about it anyway. “Really? That’s…odd.” Usually it went to the oldest child and Lillian wasn’t sure exactly how good Alessio would be at running a corporation. Though, he had time to get his act together so she couldn’t really judge him for enjoying his time while he still had it.
He certainly surprised her again. For one, she had been joking about the secretly taken away thing, but she ended up being somewhat close. “And I here I thought my family was strict. But it doesn’t compare to yours if your family shunned you out of the house just because you were sick as a child.” It seemed like a sensitive subject however so she was not going to press. If he wanted to talk about it, he could. Not like she expected him to. “I’m assuming you’re better now?” That would be a logical reason for why he was back. “And what makes you think that?” Maybe there were some deeper family issues than what he divulged since she couldn’t really see why his brother wouldn’t like to have anything to do with him. They were still brothers after all.
Sorry for the wait! Outfit: click here[/blockquote] |
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Post by giovanni montague on May 4, 2010 19:48:48 GMT -5
Giovanni was, after all, a very complex person. However, he viewed himself as someone who was simple with simple desires and simple questions, and simple, well, everything. This was his life and he was used to it. It was like having a study on a pig and conditioning the pig to be clean instead of dirty, to eat regular human food instead of slop, to be well mannered instead of disgusting and rude. Gio had been, in a way, conditioned to be the person he was today and because of this he was no longer used to human attachment. It was part of his life and it was just how he viewed the world: completely unattached from his own existence. He always felt like he was simply on the outside looking in and it did not bother him as much as it used to. He experienced actually loving someone, experienced losing them, experienced all her thought he needed to experience with another person: the chase, the thrill, the rush, the betrayal, the guilt, the depression, the love...He honestly didn't think he needed more out of life but that.
"A wake up call because you realize there is more to life than being socially acceptable," but he obviously only did so because he did care about his family and it's reputation but only on their behalf. If it was up to him he honestly would not be here and would not give a rats ass about anyone attending, "And Santa Croce is not difficult," he was facing her now, considering the conversation might lead to places he didn't want it to go but even if she said anything, he highly doubted anyone would believe her. His life was surreal and those involved with it even found it surreal, "I call the majority of my family by their last names," he shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "I only call my siblings by their first," and even then he sometimes had to catch himself to make sure not to call them by their last name because it would be awkward afterward. They knew he was awkward in general around his family other than his parents but even then it was only not awkward because all he did was sit and listen like the 'good son' he was suppose to be.
"I got emotionally attached once," he had to put the emphasis on the last word only because it was true. It only ever happened once. He knew if his family did the same to him-tricked him into trusting them and then betrayed him in the worst way possible-he probably wouldn't think twice about doing to them about what he did to his ex girlfriend. Yes, he did hesitate with her because while his family somewhat disregarded him and somewhat feared him in a sense, she never did. She had trusted him as much as he had trusted her, had loved him as much as he loved her, and when it came time to tell the truth-she was as hurt by her own actions as he was hurt by them. They had been equals and it was probably why he cared too much about her until the bitter end. She was the first person to treat him like a human and not a science project, "And one experience on that level is enough for me," he again shrugged as if it meant nothing but deep down he could feel the memories pumping into his mind as deep down he wanted to rip them out of his chest and fling them into the ocean. He was sick of thinking about her because he wanted nothing more to do with her. But she would always slowly creep up on him which was why he always took another swig of the alcohol and another snort of the white powder she started him on. And why every one night stand he had was never fulfilling.
"I'm a stranger to that family," he stated a bit softer than before. It bugged him a bit that he didn't really have a family...He never had one to begin with, "It's what happens when you are sent away, with no contact, for thirteen years," he shrugged it off and looked up from his glass at her, "But I guess you could say I'm better now. No relapse and no problem after all," he offered a very faint smile. He hadn't relapsed in years but things always got messy along the way. He had his scares of it looming it's ugly head back into his life but he was lucky enough that it was just that-a scare, "And you are right," he took another swig, "Everyone does lie," he locked his eyes onto her's, "But I'm not everyone."
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