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Post by Mercy E. Scarborough on Oct 28, 2013 2:08:23 GMT -5
Mercy probably would have enjoyed her night much more if she'd been with people that she actually liked. Kyle's friends had never exactly been her friends. And their girlfriends? Forget it. Large breasted women with small brains and little self respect seemed to be their preference. While one of his friends had a different woman on his arm every few days, she was also quite certain that the other was in an exclusive relationship with a woman other than the one that had accompanied him to the club that night. Not that Mercy liked her any more or less.
What Mercy had hoped would be a nice night out with her boyfriend, one on one, had turned into yet another rendezvous with Kyle's asshole friends. Though she'd hoped that maybe Kyle would dance with her at the very least, he seemed to be enjoying his alcohol more and refused her attempts to get him up and moving. Needless to say, the twenty-one year old witch wasn't too happy with him or the situation. Of course, Kyle had no problem being handsy with her, rubbing her thigh as he talked, and being just as possessive as he usually was. It was nights like this that made Mercy wonder why she was with him. Of course, she usually remembered after he drove her home, sweet talked her a little and did all the right things to somehow wind up in her bed. With the looks Kyle was giving her, she knew that was exactly where he was going to try to take it that night.
"I'm going to head to the bathroom," she lied, sliding out of the booth. Ignoring Kyle's smile toward her, she could feel his eyes on her as she walked away. Rather than head toward the bathroom though, she made her way through the crowd and straight to the bar. The music was loud and the lighting was just what you would expect in a night club, darker with different colors flashing to the beat of the live band that was playing. They weren't bad. Mercy had always loved the live music, dance club vibe. Kyle's company was really the only thing she wasn't enjoying that night.
When she got the attention of one of the bartenders, Mercy ordered herself a drink, wondering how long it would take for Kyle to come looking for her. It probably wouldn't be too long. He was often overly protective and possessive, something that Mercy sometime found flattering, though more often than not she found it annoying. It was mostly the whole possessive thing; she hated feeling like he owned her. Waiting for the bartender to get her drink, Mercy stood there, leaning against the bar, and let her blue eyes scan the faces around her. 464 WORDS | outfit | gone lyrics by olivia broadfield | template by mercy
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Post by Keiran M. Slater on Oct 28, 2013 11:56:48 GMT -5
Keiran hadn’t been back to Illyri for some time, it had been about three years since he last visited preferring to travel from place to place doing motocross races. But when a family member dies you were expected to come home even if you weren’t close to them. Rolling his eyes Keiran walked into the night club he had frequented in his youth having gotten hold of a rather convincing fake id along with his old friends. They too had moved away and while Keiran was still hopelessly his friends had either gotten married or were in long term relationships.
While he would love to settle down and have a kid or two of his own he had long ago realized that the curse on their family was very truly real. After every relationship his family members had somehow gone wrong he figured there was no use denying it any longer. The problem was… he didn’t see the curse dissolving any time soon. None of his family liked the Scarborough family and while a few had tried to make amends to try to get rid of the curse it had always failed in some way.
Thinking of the Scarborough family, Keiran remembered the eldest Scarborough girl that had gone to school with his sister and brother. Smiling he recalled how he used to tease her to no end finding it amusing how cute the girl had been when she got mad. But she had been about five years younger than him back then and honestly that was just not cool. But it made Keiran wonder how well the girl had developed into a woman and if she even still resided in this godforsaken town, where the humans didn’t know that monsters went bump in the night right alongside them.
He was just drinking down his first shot of whiskey when he heard her voice through his thoughts. At first he thought he was imagining it but he turned to look behind him and had to do a double take. Raking his eyes over her in one quick motion he had to make himself not gape at her. “Well well, fancy meeting you here Mercy Scarborough.” He said slyly and in his naturally charming manner, totally not giving away his surprise at seeing the object of his thoughts standing right behind him at his onetime favorite nightclub. He hadn’t thought the girl would ever have become this goddamn gorgeous but there in front of him was the living proof.
418 words | outfit | pompeii lyrics by bastille | template by mercy
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Post by Mercy E. Scarborough on Oct 28, 2013 14:47:05 GMT -5
And to think... Mercy had thought the night couldn't get any worse. As the bartender placed a hard cider in front of her, Mercy's blue-eyed gaze turned to Keiran Slater, the tormentor of her youth. "Slater," she said, resisting the urge to narrow her eyes suspiciously. She hadn't exactly forgotten their childhood... the pranks, both magical and nonmagical, the teasing and... well, his overall wickedness. "I thought you left this place, never to return?" With a quick thank you to the bartender, she turned to him.
He'd changed since the last time she had seen him. In appearance, at least, looking a little more manly and, well... She was sure that, beneath it all, he was just as much of a slime ball as he had been before. As a child, Mercy had been told stores about curses and family feuds, though she'd never exactly believed in the family curse. She just sort of figured that their families had to put the blame somewhere for any misfortune that happened in their lives... such as her own mother's death. Was she really supposed to believe that it all went back to a stupid, made up curse? As a child, she'd been naive, thinking that she could somehow bring and end to the feud between their families. Then she started school with Keiran's sister and... well, the two of them hadn't quite been the best of friends. As a matter of fact, there had never been a girl that Mercy hated more. She wouldn't associate that with the curse though.
She realized that she probably sounded bitter and, for an instant, she felt a little guilty for this. Then she recalled all the thins he had done to her and she didn't feel quite so terrible anymore. "So what brings you back? Are you being awarded Illyri's asshole of the century award?" Taking a sip of her drink, she glanced toward Kyle, still having a grand time. 464 WORDS | outfit | gone lyrics by olivia broadfield | template by mercy
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Post by Keiran M. Slater on Oct 30, 2013 16:13:50 GMT -5
Keiran repressed a grin at her obvious non-excitement at seeing her old tormentor once again. He was pretty sure that she wouldn’t appreciate him finding it amusing. “You can call me Keiran you know; we were never so distant with each other in this manner.” He smiled and winked at her. He knew he would probably be better off not teasing and flirting with her but it had always just been too much fun to see her reaction.
He looked her over rather good and he had to notice that she seemed harsher, tougher and definitely older than he remembered and he wondered what had made her have to become so tough other than the obvious fact of losing her mother. That was one aspect in life that they shared having both lost a parent. But if he remembered correctly her father had abandoned them early on so she was without both parents whereas he still had his father.
Keiran smiled charmingly at her unaffected by her words which carried bitter undertones. “Well you know how it goes. Everyone hopes to leave thinking that they’ll be rid of the town forever but then something happens and it sucks you back in.” He told her rather nonchalantly. While he had family issues they had seemed to become so common over the years it almost didn’t affect him anymore. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” He asked quirking his eyebrows at her deviously. He knew he had been an ass, and he was probably going to piss her off even more but it was actually a little comical.
418 words | outfit | pompeii lyrics by bastille | template by mercy
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Post by Mercy E. Scarborough on Oct 30, 2013 20:47:30 GMT -5
When he winked, she merely rolled her eyes. "Don't you know? Mortal enemies aren't supposed to be one a first name basis. Haven't you ever watched Harry Potter?" She resisted the urge to smile, but could not contain it when he made his last statement. It was fleeting, but a pretty sight indeed. Oddly enough, he'd been the only one to really make her smile that night, something that was both shocking and perhaps even a little startling.
"Yes, it would. And if that's the case, congratulations. It's an award well deserved." Taking another sip of her drink, she leaned against the bar, oddly torn between staying and going. She could have taken the empty seat the had just been vacated, on the other side of him, but she didn't quite want to make it seem like she planned on sticking around very long. Over in the booth Kyle and his friends were sitting at, Kyle was already starting to look around for her. Glancing over and seeing that, Mercy crossed over to the other side of Keiran and sat down, playing with her bottle atop the bar. "So what's the real reason you're back?" She arched a slender brow and looked over at him, 464 WORDS | outfit | gone lyrics by olivia broadfield | template by mercy
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Post by Keiran M. Slater on Nov 3, 2013 13:19:31 GMT -5
Keiran couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face, he had tried to hold it back for too long and it just slipped past his control. “You obviously haven’t watched them closely enough as Harry refers to Voldemort as Tom all the time, and even he calls him Harry Potter.” He told her cheekily, he had always loved to argue and it made it even better that he knew it would probably get to her that he was right. He took a long sip of his whiskey while he looked at her with his chocolate brown eyes.
“I’m afraid I haven’t won it yet, there are a few others that are in the running and I believe one or two of them deserve it more than I do.” Keiran replied looking around the club at the other patrons. He was half tempted to grab her and take her out on the dance floor but he figured that would only earn him a slap in the face or maybe a kick in the balls, he had a feeling that she wouldn’t have any qualms with either of those.
“One of my aunt’s fiancé died in some freak accident and apparently I was expected to be here for his funeral even though I’ve never met the guy.” He told her. He wasn’t exactly overjoyed to be back in Illyri but what could one do? He didn’t think his family would find it all that great if he decided to just skip his great aunt’s fiance’s funeral. “Of course everyone is blaming it on the curse, not that I blame them things just seem to go awry in our family.” Keiran said, pretty much musing out loud. He didn’t know if Mercy shared the same views on the whole curse thing but he was beginning to believe in it.
418 words | outfit | pompeii lyrics by bastille | template by mercy
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