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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 25, 2010 14:55:01 GMT -5
He was all glammed up in the classic double oh seven style of his that he seriously wanted to get this over with. He only needed to be here for what? Half the night; then he could go to the hotel he was supposed to go to, meet up with whatever messenger his grandfather sent this time, get what he needed, and then see where to go from there. Was it pathetic that his life was suddenly revolving around this silly obsession of work? It was as if he was just itching for work now because school life was terribly boring. If he wasn't itching for work, he was itching for a party where he knew no one. Even though he knew no one in the academy all that well except maybe a select two or three, he had to see them almost every single God-damned-day and he seriously wasn't used to this. His professors he could handle. Anyone obviously older than he was he could handle. But his age or younger? It was like an annoying ringing in his ears constantly and though he always seemed calm, cool, and collected, he was ready to rip off the squawking heads of at least half of the female population. Who knew females could be so damn dramatic and such...stuck up whores? He didn't like whores...despite dating one in the past. He just needed to graduate and be done with all of this...get back to whatever life he had before this and just...go until his body decided enough was enough and then go six feet under.
All of which he was plenty ready for to be truly honest.
So he ran his fingers through his hair as he downed the shot of vodka. Russian vodka. It was always the best. One thing he did like was that they spiked everything and brought liquor right under the noses of all of those silly adults, most of which shouldn't even be calling themselves adults. It was slightly amusing but then again it was expected so it wasn't entirely. He silently stood off to the side, one hand in his pocket while the other grabbed a tall glass of whatever hard alcohol was in it and took a few gulps every now and again, enjoying the burn down his throat-one he was well accustomed to by now. An expensive suit, button up collared-white of course- underneath with the first few unbuttoned, sleek shoes...He did look exceptionally cleaned up, more than his usual Obsessive Compulsive self.
Glancing around he simply watched, having gotten there right on time as the invitation indicated since he was never one to be late for anything. Everyone looked fancy and whatnot but rarely did anyone catch his attention. Only about three or four women actually looked like they didn't get dressed in a closet and that was Professor Haze in that lace gown that was so low in the back it should probably be deemed inappropriate from all the wandering male eyes, Miss Vanderbilt in the black and gold gown, Miss Barnes who apparently seemed to steal the spotlight for a while, and then...the other female he didn't have a clue was even a student because he had never seen her before...and she wore a playboy bunny outfit. That one he would deem as slutty...Seriously? Was dressing up like that absolutely necessary?
Which reminded him...
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the simple black mask and placed it on. He forgot that was necessary considering Miss Haze had a mask that was just lace across her eyes. He thought it was some kind of fashion statement until he remembered that it was a masquerade. He found these terribly annoying and dull. They always ended with problems and drama after all. Much like how highschool currently seemed to be. But then the female was in front of him. Of course it wasn't just any female because this female was an ex client of his. A side job he was never suppose to partake in and that helped him gain that bullet wound-scar on his left shoulder blade. He had to have his arm in a sling for a good couple of days after that one. Sure it wasn't the job she hired him to do that got him the wound...It was the repercussions-since his grandfather was the one who gave it to him for pulling a 'stunt' like that and pulling jobs outside the ones given to him.
"Beautiful as always, Miss Campbell," he stated simply in that strange accent of his that seemed to be a mixture of every country on the known planet...She always did look beautiful, after all he was never one to lie.He just would prefer to keep his mouth contently shut.
-JEWEL-
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Post by JEWEL SAMEDI CAMPBELL on Apr 25, 2010 15:55:37 GMT -5
The girl had decided to go implicitly simple for the ball, the only thing that would keep her distinguished from the others, her blatantly obvious cup, filled to the brim with vodka. She didn’t care much if the teachers saw her, given they were drinking too, and instead managed to keep her operation covert with a few simple tricks of the darkness that vacated the room. She was dressed in head to toe underground designer, brands that no one had heard of or cared about, apart from the louboutins on her feet. They were a stable, the only brand she truly trusted, and she fully intended to remain wearing them for every single moment she had the chance to do so. Brushing a couple of fingers through her loose, beachy waves, she checked out her appearance in the mirror, satisfied but checking to make sure she looked appropriately ravishing. Just in case she happened to see someone worthy of impressing, not that the odds were likely at all. Chestnut brown waves fell to about her mid spine, curled at the ends from spending the day at the beach, and probably holding the scent of the ocean, her skin clear and pale, lips painted ruby red and captivating, parted slightly over white, chiclet teeth. Collarbone was dusted with bronzer, hips outlined by the black that surrounded her, and her mask was the only thing to complete her entire ensemble, pull it together. For some ungodly reason, it was appropriate, and despite her apparent annoyance at having to wear it, it was indeed an ornate piece.
Handcrafted in italy, she’d picked it up on her only time spent there, apart from now of course. It’d been in the window of some mom and pop shop, and her father a few steps ahead, her apprehensive little hands tugging on his sleeve as she pointed. She was seven or eight, not nearly old enough to be spending time by herself, and so he’d taken a day off of his busy schedule to walk around the streets of Venice with his only daughter. It may have been the most complacent she’d ever been, standing there, imagining who she could if she just slipped the mask over her blue eyes and smirked into the mirror. She remembered standing in front of the mirror, feathers outlining her forehead as she watched her reflection, slowly pulled the mask down over her eyes, watched as she’d changed from innocent to sultry, instantaneously. Every little girl wanted to be beautiful, and for someone that was, it was a completely different world to be more than beautiful. It was like spending all of your time in Nordstroms and then finding out about Barneys, but it was such a far away place and you could never go. Jewel could relate. Tremendously, she could relate.
So she set off for the masquerade, her heels clicking against the stone walkways and reminding her of Cinderella; she briefly considered leaving her shoe behind just to see what would happen, perhaps hiding in the bushes and later jumping to scream and beat whoever picked up her heel. It left her mind, however, when thoughts of the simplicity began to cloud her thoughts, when they began to reach cold, trembling fingers around her brain and squeeze so hard she doubted she’d make it out alive. Taking a sip of her vodka - Russian, only the best for Ms. Campbell - she shivered, just barely, enough to highlight the goosebumps on her bare, slender arms. Someone stared and she showed her teeth, growled. They scampered away and she released a triumphant giggle, pulling open the door the marvelous, old building, her heels clicking against the wood as the music lulled away and she felt the floor tilt a bit. This wasn’t going to end well. Too much to drink and not enough to eat was never a good combination and she felt that ultimately, she’d probably end up puking in a trashcan somewhere nearby. Not a good way to end the night, but hey, she was living the dream, right? There was hardly anything else she could ask for in the world and she capitalized on that in every second of every day. Wealth, knowledge, good looks… Jewel was fortunate in every way. The only unfortunate thing about her life was that she had no one to embrace her perfection, her ultimately clean slate and everything had just sort of crumpled down around her.. Not that she was complaining. It was nice to rest in the silence that seemed to be falling over her, even if it was just for a little bit.
The slowness that had encapsulated her momentarily sped back up, and her mind was immediately drawn to a voice she knew, even if it wasn’t thoroughly. It was familiar enough for her to turn her head and recognize the muscular, attractive build of Giovanni Montague. “If you openly state the name of the person behind the mask, it ruins the point of a masquerade.” she snapped, eyes glinting behind the darkness that surrounded her sharp, defined features.
click for dress
click for mask.
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 26, 2010 10:01:05 GMT -5
"Oh really?" he shrugged,"Good to know for future reference," duh he knew that. He just didn't much care about the entire 'point' of this ball. It seemed like a mass of people getting together to make fun of and crown a virgin. Just because a female student isn't a whore like the rest of them she is exploited and basically belittled. It honestly did sound like a horrible title to hold, "Did not expect you to show up," he took another swig of his drink, "It doesn't seem like your type of party," he knew more about her than she could possibly imagine. He had to if he was going to work for her. It was routine to do background checks and such to make sure he wasn't getting screwed over like his ex girlfriend screwed him over. Stupid whore. It still baffled him why she had gotten with his father in the first place...Why she thought tearing an already crappy family apart. Regardless, it was the past and despite it plaguing him in the middle of the night like another one of his many one night stands.
His focus was partially on his surroundings and partially on Miss Campbell who did look a bit out of place among the masses. Unlike everyone looking unreasonably complicated, she looked simple and if standing out was what she was going for, she very much so achieved. He knew, though, why everyone would only sneak glances. The two of them talking was odd in itself considering she was new money and he was old money. That and the fact she was a year nine and he a year twelve. She was, as rumor had it, considered a slut and a bitch and he was just the new guy who magically appeared out of nowhere. Mr. Mystery. He didn't like the nickname considering he wasn't much for mysteries. He liked having knowledge unless it was about people. He liked it when people broke away from the norm and were spontaneous. It was amusing and made him feel like he was breaking away from his usual routine of living...
But he needed to be here for only another hour before he could leave. Maybe he'd stop by a better party at a club or something on his way...Pick up some blow before ending up wherever the plane took him and before after his little assignment go get high and party in that country, snag a female or two, and then come back in time for his afternoon classes. Yeah, it sounded like a good idea considering he had done it a million and one times. Party in other countries where they do not know you and will not remember your name. The parties in Japan and China were probably the best he ever went to. The raves were better than the sex because when it came to sex they sucked-in his opinion at least. He would prefer not to hear someone sounding like a guinea pig while he pounded into them or like they were hiccuping and apparently they all sounded like that. He'd rather not feel like a rapist.
Back to Miss. Campbell, though, she was considerably young. No, she was young period. But she was a lot more mature than over seventy five percent of the academy's population. Taking another swig, he glanced over at the stage where they made the announcement that everyone had to submit their votes. Was he going to vote? No. It was pointless. He didn't like the majority of the people here anyway so he wouldn't waste his time.
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Post by JEWEL SAMEDI CAMPBELL on Apr 26, 2010 18:06:39 GMT -5
“Don’t patronize me,” she stated, just as blunt as ever, crossing one slender arm behind her and leaning up against the wall, the other hand positioned at waist level with her cup, in case she so decided that drinking from it would be a good idea. God only knew what was going to help her up from later that evening; even she had no idea if she’d make it out alive and that was partly what kept her drinking. The thrill. It was what kept her spinning through the different dimensions, transforming from happy to sad to disgruntled to angry and frustrated and back again all in less than ten seconds, the emotions flitting over her tongue one by one before she could even say something. And not to mention, she was distracted by the drop-dead gorgeous people all around her, particularly the one by her side, not that she was going to actually openly admit that he was much more beautiful than anything other boy she’d ever seen before. Jewel didn’t complement people, unless of course that person was Petra. There was no denying that that may have been the sweetest, most delightful person she’d ever bothered to spend her time around, even though she only toned down the behavior a little bit. At least she could take it. Fingers tracing the sequins that lined the mask around her ice-blue eyes, Jewel bit her lip lightly and looked back to him, unable to hear exactly what it was that he said, apart from party, and not. It was pretty easy to piece together what was going on from there. “I think it‘s entertaining to dress up,” there was that defensive tone in her voice, that tone that meant she didn’t like the way the other person was behaving, and if it didn’t change, she was going to flip a shit. No one wanted that; she was much easier placated when she first showed signs of irritation than later, once she‘d been worked up and popped a cap or started throwing fists. “And it‘s more probable that someone would fall when they‘re wearing a mask then otherwise. But never mind me, what the fuck are you doing here? Familial appearance?” not that she knew anything about that; her family was all dead, and what was alive wanted nothing to do with her. Thank sweet Jesus. Any association with those god-forsaken fleabags was too much for her to handle.
“Can I ask you a question?” of course, that was a question, and obviously she intended to ask him another, even if he said no. There was a pause regardless, despite her pretty straight-forward intentions, and she smirked into the silence, taking a sip of her drink. And suddenly, it had slipped her mind, and she was just staring at him, blankly. There wasn’t a hint of emotion to betray her original intentions, and to be honest, she couldn’t really remember them either. Keeping her mouth closed for the best of both of them, she released a gentle little sigh and dropped her hand, finishing off her glass with a dainty sip, the red lips printed on the cup. Dropping it down on a tray that one of the circulating waiters was holding, she shook her head. “I don’t remember. Do you know? You know everything else.” she shrugged her slender, pale shoulders, brushed a hand across her throat and returned to gazing at him, the alcohol really beginning to set it, her eyes drifting slowly over his defined features and refusing to break her gaze. She watched, waited, a tiger in the low brush. It was like there was a prey nearby and she was going to get them, but there were too many eyes on her to really get away with it. It was frustrating and unnecessary, not to mention it was making it a bit difficult to breathe, what with the subconscious holding of her breath until he answered her question, and all.
click for dress
click for mask.
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 27, 2010 17:34:20 GMT -5
He actually let the whisper of a smirk fall on his face when she was bluntly telling him not to patronize her. It was amusing, really, that someone so young would act the way she was. That female he talked to before at that bonfire shindig. Miss. Austerlitz. She seemed nowhere near on Miss. Campbell's level of maturity. She seemed far too into her appearance and reputation and the fact that she was old money to really seem to have any sort of depth to her own personality. It seemed everyone around here had mommy and daddy issues but without mommy and daddy they wouldn't have the luxurious life they were living now. He understood his parents' logic as to why they chose him for the occupation and position he was in now. They secretly considered Alessio to be the one who would take care of things once their father passed on or retired. Giovanni was sick, not mentally, but physically. They couldn't risk suddenly having grandchildren who were as sick as he was whether it was hereditary or not. Why risk it? So they were lucky when, after Giovanni, they had Alessio. Another male. Another heir.
And he didn't hate Alessio for it and wasn't envious in any way. In all actuality it was like giving Giovanni less responsibility because God knew he didn't need anymore than he already had to deal with. Keeping family secrets, his own secrets, living a life that meant no trust in anyone other than those in the blood line. He was well accustomed to it already and hating his life honestly wouldn't solve a damn thing so might as well embrace it and enjoy it , right? Even if he did live and revolve everything around those meetings, assignments, and phone calls it was better than living a life without a purpose. He knew his purpose and he intended on keeping it that way.
She asked why he was here and he simply shrugged, "Just listening to orders," it was just that once one got past all the bull shit and fluff. His parents and the rest of his family expected him to show up at the ball so he showed up. Then, according to his grandfather, he would conspicuously leave out the back and simply not return until his following assignment was completed. He figured it would be in Thailand from the plane tickets he received in the mail that morning. He liked Thailand. The food was great and the people were alright. Not like he got to dwell on those two things all that much. But at least she liked to get dolled up, right? Added a nice hint of humanity into her.
When she asked if she could ask a question, he simply gave a silent and slight nod before taking a swig of his drink. It seemed like it slipped her mind as easily as it came because her next words seemed to not make all that much sense. He was guessing it was the alcohol. He could only imagine if she drank or took anything before hand as he did. Snorting a quick line of blow always took the edge off and kept him a bit more relaxed. But only a bit...because he could never initially get that first high again as with most drugs it was impossible, "I know everything else but what you were going to ask," he glanced over at her, that ghost of a smirk ever so slightly appearing but just as quickly as it would appear it would disappear. He knew better than to show too many emotions. That would just make him seem...Wrong.
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Post by JEWEL SAMEDI CAMPBELL on Apr 27, 2010 19:57:47 GMT -5
“One, you don't know everything else.” she raised an eyebrow, but suddenly a bit of doubt coursed through her that he'd even be able to see it behind the mask. So it was deemed pointless and she relaxed her expression, instead taking on a hefty dose of annoyance in her tone to make herself more clear. Maybe it was less annoyance, more disbelief. Whatever the case, it was obvious and he would undoubtedly be able to tell that the cryptic answers were beginning to get on her short, fried nerves. Unfortunately, she didn't exactly have anyone else to talk to that would put up with her shit, so she was stuck with the blockhead until further notice. Not that there would be further notice – the girl was completely alone and that was never, ever going to change. Not even his company, however quiet, could knock her loose on that one. It was a royal pain in her ass and she didn't doubt that it would eventually kill her, smother her, push her over the cliff. She'd other go completely crazy from lack of someone to share her opinions with, or, at this rate, kill herself by feeding pieces of her flesh to birds in the courtyard by that one museum in Italy. She couldn't wait. Really. It would be a relief from this boredom, this utter, complete lack of activity with the exception of making people feel like shit. It used to be fun, but it was losing it's luster now that no one cared, and even if she'd never admit it, she couldn't spite her parents if they were dead. Thankfully, they were dead. She didn't mind that. But then there really was no one to keep her around, she was there for herself and after a while that got old. Maybe she'd go Brangie and adopt a kid from Asia or something. Fuck Brangie, she'd go Leviton. That seemed more plausible at the moment. Hell, she could take one of their kids and they wouldn't notice. They'd have four more on the way. They did have four more on the way. Scratching the inside of her arm absently, Jewel tuned back into reality, even if only momentarily, and blinked slowly.
“And if you did, you'd know what color underwear I'm wearing right now, which you don't. So that's a lie.” she shrugged, nails dragging across her skin now where they were gently brushing before. Dropping her hand before she left a mark, she crossed her forearm over her stomach. She wasn't wearing any, hadn't bothered with them because to her, a thong was the same thing and that was stupid. A corset was present, basically a requirement of the black number, but there were no panties accompanying it. He couldn't possibly know that, unless of course he'd been watching her get dressed. “And two, It more then likely had something to do with why you're so damn stoic all the time.” she crossed her other arm, folding them just below her breasts and blowing lightly to move a feather from the mask out of her way. “Like a goddamn rock. No response other than the typical, textbook answers to everything. It makes me want to rip off your testicles and see if you'd scream.” no, cruel and unusual punishment didn't phase her at all, and she genuinely approved of the techniques, if not the process, the nazis used to exterminate the jews. They were good, decent plans, it's just that someone had to die to fulfill them and that's where things went wrong. That's where you hired someone like Gio to do it, because then you didn't get your fingers dirty and it was utterly ridiculous to think that it might be traced back to you. After all, that was what she'd done and it had turned out sufficiently. Enough. Except now she had to go to school with him. But it was well worth it. Not only was her savings account full to the brim, but her pestilent, horrendous excuses for parental units were six feet under, exactly where they'd always deserved to be. The only problem was that she'd eventually have to follow.
click for dress
click for mask.
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Post by giovanni montague on Apr 27, 2010 20:34:12 GMT -5
He chuckled.
Yes, Gio chuckled.
"One," he wasn't looking at her directly as his fingers tips of his left hand gently ran down the length of her side, stopping just below her hips, "No panty lines...No panties," that was a no brainer and something most men knew. If there were no panty lines and when you felt down her side felt no extra fabric? The only answer was that no thong of g string was present and thus no panties. He let his arm fall back into his pocket as her felt the light vibration in his outer thigh and then easily and with no other signals, read the message that was left. He didn't show any sign of what the message read, simply closed his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. So the tickets to Thailand was just a cover up. Always clever, his grandfather was, so he should have known better than to expect it. Glancing back over at Jewel, he leaned in to whisper into her ear, "I'd like to see you try."
With that he pulled away in that sneaky little way of his once his husky yet silken voice seemed to dissipate but his arm was firmly wrapped around her waist as he moved, have dragging her toward the back way where no one but staff would go through and they knew better than to even speak to Giovanni Montague. The majority of them knew simply by looking at him that he wasn't one to be messed with in any way shape or form-or to stop from doing what he so ever pleased. So the cooks, the maids, the butlers, and the floating staff turned a blind eye as he opened the back door to the cold night air. He didn't push Jewel up against the wall until he was sure the door was closed. No one would notice. No one ever noticed. The fact it was a masked ball simply made it easier to get away with and with teenage minds-faces and people didn't last very long in their memory, "Pick option one or two," his voice was in it's usual business tone; cold, distant, and a bit on the ruthless side and it was obvious that was his normal tone-he simply toned it down a great deal while in the academy for obvious reasons. He wasn't trying to scare her. This was the way it had to be. If she chose the correct option, she actually might walk away alive because he had no problem killing her on campus. He could always disappear again. It was what he did best and his grandparents would pay to keep the media away...They always loved their money.
And their prestigious little academy.
He was standing in front of her, mask off and in his pocket as he finished his drink and then tossed the glass over his broad shoulder so it crashed against the floor, bursting into a million pieces, "Option one you cooperate and you can keep your skin," he was obviously not going to move regardless of what she said and he easily had the advantage. He moved faster than people thought he could. Stealthy. He was a trained killer after all so he had to know not only how to attack but how to defend so his lean frame made him agile. If she tried to do the typical: eye gauging, knee into the stomach or groin, hand to the nose, scream...He was trained to handle every and any situation. Either way, he knew exactly what to do no matter what her reaction was, "Option two you die," yeah he knew he was being blunt but he didn't really care. This was business after all.
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Post by JEWEL SAMEDI CAMPBELL on Apr 28, 2010 17:27:42 GMT -5
She didn’t get the chance to smack him for touching her side, not before she was assertively guided (or, in other words, dragged) out of the ballroom and out some random back door, her slender figure pressed against the wall as he seemed to threaten her life. She resisted the urge to laugh, her head turned stubbornly to the side so she could avoid looking at him, because it just figured. There really was no one who was so immune to emotions or feelings for no fucking reason. And his reason happened to be that she was going to croak on his command at any given second, and she couldn’t even tell why. Well, that made a whole shit load of sense. And to think, everything was completely, perfectly normal for just a couple of days. “At least take me to dinner first, god.” she muttered, half-kidding, half serious. It would have been good, in a way, for him to at least warn her that he had to kill her before she got fond of the idea of teasing him consistently. If she did make it out of this alive, she’d be sure to let him know exactly how she felt about dying at his hands. “You couldn’t have picked a better day for this, really. You know, I didn’t want to enjoy the masquerade or anything. God forbid.” she frowned, shifted her gaze from the space over his shoulder where she’d been staring back to his face and arranged herself so she was more comfortable.
“What does cooperating entail?” somewhere, deep inside of herself she understood that she could die, right then. That he could kill her and that he probably should be killing her, but for some reason she honestly didn’t understand all that well, he was neglecting to do so. It sent a little shiver up her spine that her glorious, obviously high-impact life could be coming to an end at that very instant. She could never see the faces she loathed so much again. She could not wake up tomorrow morning and he could cause that. He could strangle her until she died, he could press down on her throat, he could put a gun to her head or he could just let her walk off. And for some ungodly reason, he was giving her an option. Was it wrong that she wanted to hesitate? Was it wrong that she wasn’t scared at all that she might be dead in a very short matter of time? She’d much rather die now then wait until she was old and wrinkled and useless, because then she’d feel like she led her life for nothing. Jewel didn’t want kids, so the Campbell name was going to die with her. And that was nice, in a way. Her parents didn’t deserve more people to carry on their legacy. They were dead and she could be dead too. But she shook her head, finally. “Fuck,” she muttered, moving an inch to the left as if she could get away from him, attempting to duck under his arm. It was a valiant effort, really, because she understood enough to know he was going to snap her right back into place.
Regardless, she ripped off the mask over her eyes and tossed it on the ground, shoving a hand through her hair and resisted the urge to pull the cigarette she had out of her bra and smoke it. Or at least get another drink. Not that she could go far enough to do either of those things. “Do you have a light?” she questioned, irrelevant to his earlier statement but she had a hard time keeping anything serious for very long, unless she was fighting, and some part of her doubted she was dying tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It didn’t matter, really. He could kill her, but whatever satisfaction he would get out of it was lost if she didn’t react, at all. She. Didn’t. Care. And that was that. There really was nothing else to keep her so completely interested.
click for dress
click for mask.
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