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Post by louise edna vanderbilt on Apr 23, 2010 18:23:31 GMT -5
Oo La la. Museums. No, not just any museum. The Museum; capitalization and all included. The female stood in front of each picture that caught her interest actually reading any blurb or history beneath it or on the stand in front of it. She looked slightly out of place with everyone all dressed up and looking fabulous while she basically looked, not like a slob, but just not fitting. It was like her school uniform. She would end up wearing one of her brothers' button up tops since she always misplaced her own, completely unbuttoned since it was too long to tuck inside her school uniform skirt which she usually stole from her sisters (she was taller than both so they tended to be a bit short) and then a random white tank top tucked in to get away with it. If she remembered, she would throw the tie, loose of course, around her neck and though she never wore the stockings (whoever invented those things needed to die...they were so itchy), she did at least have the decency to wear black shoes as was required. Granted they would be some worn out Converse high tops, Dr. Martins, chunky army boots, or something along those lines. She wasn't too big on heels. Those were saved for special occasions and usually she had to hunt them down because she wasn't exactly a neat freak...Nor did she do laundry. She just constantly bought new clothes. Funny, hm?
Regardless, her current attire was the only thing that made her stand out apart from her height. Five ten was pretty tall for a highschool student but then again a lot of students at Santa Croce Academy were tall. It was like an old money gene or something. So she wore some oversized shirt she found lying around with some custom leggings she stole from Gracie (her youngest sister), military cuff boots stylishly studded, and then a crap load of unnecessary accessories just because she liked them. She liked chunky jewelery especially if they were from other countries. Like her feather earrings she picked up while in Brazil on her extended vacation. She didn't entirely match, though, which was typical of her. Unless someone told her to wear specific colors, she wore whatever her eyes first set themselves on. Her purse was aqua and yellow, her earrings teal and violet, her top bone colored, black leggings, boots dark brown. She wouldn't go into detail about anything else.
So once getting past her ridiculously clumsy and fitting (for her at least) outfit despite her top making her look like a hanger since it was slipping off one bare shoulder (damn straight she was going braless....she forgot to put one on...), her bed head messy hair in it's well known very loose curls and waves fell around her attractive face; bright, stormy azure orbs standing out against thick eyelashes; everything just looking completely natural and mellow for her. It reflected her personality quite well because, honestly, unlike her other siblings in the Vanderbilt family, she was probably the biggest odd ball and black sheep on the planet. Sure her and Gracie dabbled in drugs and alcohol...Sure Gracie got knocked up...But Gracie was still young and according to their parents, still had 'hope'. Louie here was a lost cause. She was never around (though she made it a point to be around on everyone's birthday no matter what), constantly traveling the world, constantly following her bucket list-one item/adventure at a time. On top of that, they didn't expect kids from her unless she was put in an arranged marriage. That wouldn't be good would it? Considering she was horrible with commitment and actually living with people...
Running her fingers through her hair, a cigarette, lit, stuck out from between her plump and rosy lips that someone could mistaken for being filled with lip injection crap. Nope, they were her's. All big and all natural like the rest of her, though she was on the skinny side...Anorexia did that to you. Taking a drag, she blew the smoke out, glad they allowed people to smoke in here since the paintings were encased in glass to remain preserved. The headphones in her multi-pierced ears were blasting music as she read the little blurb and her hips moved with the beat before she was suddenly full on dancing like she was on an Ipod commercial or something. There was really not that many people in that gallery and even if there were, she wouldn't have cared. She just didn't want to go to her Managerial Accounting class. The professor made her fall asleep.
-open-
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SONG NUMBER 001.
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Post by MARYSE ALAINA LEFEBVRE on May 5, 2010 20:59:11 GMT -5
Maryse loved going to the museum. She loved art. It was her passion. Seeing pieces of work that others did that were accomplished just made her confident that she could make it, too. It just put a smile on her face. Maryse remembered the first time she got into art. That was when her mother wasn't off finding 'inspiration' and was actually spending time with her. Her mother had gotten her into art. Maryse wanted to be just like her mother. Maryse wanted to just make her art come alive. Guess that's why she had gotten the tattoos she had now. She liked poetry, too. That was why most of her tattoos were quotes. Maryse thought about what she would put on her body before she actually did it. She loved Marilyn Monroe which was why she had her face tatooed on her arm. However, Maryse's tattoos would have to be kept a secret. She could only imagine what would happen if people heard that the Ambassador of France's daughter was a rebel. Sure, she had tattoos and her first kiss was with a girl, but she was hardly rebellious. She was a sweet, innocent girl. Well, not that innocent. She wasn't a virgin at all. She'd slept with two guys in her life and that was it. Maryse pulled herself out of her thoughts.
Maryse looked down at her clothes. She hated having to hide her tattoos. She loved them so much, but she would have to for tje sake of her family's reputation. She could not mess up their reputation. She was adamant about that. She would not mess up their reputation because it was already messed up as it is and revealing her tattoos could possibly make it even worse. So, now Maryse was stuck in her leather jacket. Not that she didn't like it or anything, but she would have just worn the tank top and jeans that she was already wearing. Of course she had to pair it off with heels. There was no way Maryse would be caught dead in sneakers. She never wore them. Maryse only ever wore heels, boots, or sandals. That was it. Never would she ever wear sneakers. They just were not her thing. Maryse looked away from her clothes, but was still ghosting her hand over her Marilyn Monroe tattoo. It always calmed her down. Maryse looked down the hall and saw that she was a long way from finishing her look at these beautiful pieces of art. What Maryse did not expect was to run into her best friend, Louise, dancing around near some of the art pieces to some music that was probably playing in her head or the iPod that Maryse did not see.
Maryse smirked at her best friend. They were partners in crime. That was exactly what they were. They always got what they wanted. Louise always helped Maryse to get a guy she wanted. Louise would lure the girl away and Maryse would go in on the boyfriend. That was just how things worked for them. Not that they wanted to mess up anybody's relationships or anything. Oh, who the hell was she kidding thinking that? That was exactly what they were doing when they did their little plan. There was no way anything good would come out of that. Maryse bet that half of the guys she dated were all from that plan that her and Lydia had formulated together. After all, Louise did prepare Maryse for their preparations on breaking hearts. Louise had been Maryse's first kiss. That was a time in Maryse's life when she was curious about everything. Sure, the kiss with Louise was great, but Maryse decided to just stick with boys, even though she hadn't kissed one yet. Maryse just knew though. That kiss had made things awkward between Maryse and Louise for a while. Sure, she knew that Louise didn't have a problem with it at all, but Maryse was worried that it would mess up their friendship. Later, though, Maryse got over it, so it was all fine and dandy between them again. At least Maryse knew that she could tell Louise anything. And she could always practice her kissing skills with Louise.
Maryse smirked at her best friend and slowly walked over to her. She walked behind her and pulled out her headphones and kissed her on the cheek. "Bonjour chienne," she said in French to Louise and stood in front of her with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Mind telling me why the hell you are dancing in the middle of the museum?" Maryse asked, smirk still in place. She could not help but chuckle at Louise. It was just like her to do something spontaneous and out of the blue. "Baiser. Baiser." Maryse rarely ever talked French. She just liked talking the language at random times. And she did love speaking French. It was great. Maryse puckered her lips and waited for Louise. Maryse still, somwehow, had that smirk in place.
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