Laybunny
Lonely Lover
11,075 Points
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sтερнαηιηε кιякℓαη∂
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I'm stuck between who I am, who I want to be,
"I am truly sorry sir."
The tone was that of a young British orphan boy in an old movie. One could only picture the scene. A boy with smudges on his large cheeks and a short, skinny stature stands on a busy sidewalk in winter, with mittens on both hands. He outstretches his hands to an elderly, richer man and begs with large gooey eyes for some morsel of food. This tone being used in this context, however, was a method of sarcasm and sass. Locke's eyes remained narrowed on Volcom as he watched the sequence of events play out like bad acting. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" It was pathetic, really, the amount of effort that Volcom went to in order to be rebellious and disrespectful, even when it served him no good. The display was like one of a student standing up against a teacher, believing that standing up was some noble cause even though it only served them an immature detention.
He sighed, rubbing his temples for a second.
He was getting too old for this. Part of them wondered if he'd even retire one day-- it'd save a good deal of his health, but what would he do if he wasn't working? Working consumed his life, day in and day out. He knitted his brows for a moment in pained frustration, feeling a headache lingering and the edges of his vision blurring from pulling on the skin nearby his eyeballs. He eventually made eye contact with Volcom once more, only to be interrupted, "Volcom--"
"Hello, everyone!"
The host was standing before everyone in the diningroom, on a large platform. She was a beautiful young woman in a flashy dress with her hair heavily styled in curls, and enticing green eyes that stood out immensely. She had a smile of a celebrity and a high, excited voice of a girl excited for prom. Her figure was rather feminine and definitely showed the form of a woman in her 20s, with larger hips and thighs. Her dress was sleeveless and she crossed her arms lightly, but the smile that had flickered onto her pink showed friendliness and cooperation. "I am your host here, as well as your other host here." She gestured with her chin over to a man standing nearby. He was dressed in a similar style, having both hands in his pocket and a smile on his face as well. The two had similarities in appearance, and it was difficult to know if they were related somehow, or if the similar manners of dress were playing with the eyes of the audience. Both of them shared a similar smile, a similar flash of the eyes, a similar flicker of expression. The man now spoke.
"We hope you're all enjoying your stay. Finding your way around okay and everything."
Locke had paused speaking to Volcom to rub at his temples again, and try to pay partial attention to the hosts. It was the only proper thing to do, after all. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out his bottle of aspirin, popping several more into his mouth at a speed too quick for comfort's sake. It was a memorized, automatic movement for him now, like most people had for walking or jumping. His eyes remained closed as to block out the light for a few moments. He would reopen them when his throbbing headpain would ease somewhat.
✰Where is she?:[ xxxxxxxxxx ]
✪Who is she with?:[ xxxxxxxx ]
✯What drama is she scheming up now?:[ xxxxxxxxx ]
✪Who is she with?:[ xxxxxxxx ]
✯What drama is she scheming up now?:[ xxxxxxxxx ]
☐OOC Notes:[ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx ]
... and who I should be.
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