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tampered2007-08-26 10:07 pm
venomouselle.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-08-26 10:07 pm
Oh Lonesome Train, Oh Lonesome Track
When; 10:30PM--Onward
Rating; R (for violence and language)
Characters; Nicholas Brocklehurst![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
razrsharp and Elle Driver venomouselle
Summary; A cursed, ornery assassin gets a visit from a friend looking to make amends. Assassins don't make nice very well.
Log;
Elle had given up attempting to sleep off the curse that made everyone aware of her thoughts. Now aware of it, and close to ending the third day of misery her sanity was starting to crackle. I can't take much more of this. Suicide is starting to sound pleasant. Irritated, the covers were shoved aside. She lit another cigarette and shuffled from the small bedroom, making a beeline for her sound system, swapping Sinatra for good old Johnny Burnette.
Music could help a little couldn't it? I don't have to think about Christopher Styles and his likely love affair with Nicholas Brocklehurst. Fuck them. Anger spiked like a thorn. Elle herself was a liar, a thief and a cheat but didn't enjoy being on the other end of the action in the slightest. Especially when her own tender feelings were involved.
Two more hours. Just two more hours and things would be normal, she thought to herself cranking the dial. So what if the rest of the building was already asleep. Already with the first guitar line, Elle felt a little better as she crossed the hardwood floor barefoot. Dressed down for the night with no one to impress, she wore grey soft cotton capris and a black thank top. Johnny B began to wail, clouding her thoughts of humiliation and anger allowing petty, simple thought process to flow. An omelet would be good. I can manage that. Easy. No fuss. With toast perhaps?
Rating; R (for violence and language)
Characters; Nicholas Brocklehurst
razrsharp and Elle Driver venomouselleSummary; A cursed, ornery assassin gets a visit from a friend looking to make amends. Assassins don't make nice very well.
Log;
Elle had given up attempting to sleep off the curse that made everyone aware of her thoughts. Now aware of it, and close to ending the third day of misery her sanity was starting to crackle. I can't take much more of this. Suicide is starting to sound pleasant. Irritated, the covers were shoved aside. She lit another cigarette and shuffled from the small bedroom, making a beeline for her sound system, swapping Sinatra for good old Johnny Burnette.
Music could help a little couldn't it? I don't have to think about Christopher Styles and his likely love affair with Nicholas Brocklehurst. Fuck them. Anger spiked like a thorn. Elle herself was a liar, a thief and a cheat but didn't enjoy being on the other end of the action in the slightest. Especially when her own tender feelings were involved.
Two more hours. Just two more hours and things would be normal, she thought to herself cranking the dial. So what if the rest of the building was already asleep. Already with the first guitar line, Elle felt a little better as she crossed the hardwood floor barefoot. Dressed down for the night with no one to impress, she wore grey soft cotton capris and a black thank top. Johnny B began to wail, clouding her thoughts of humiliation and anger allowing petty, simple thought process to flow. An omelet would be good. I can manage that. Easy. No fuss. With toast perhaps?