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Mar 13, 2013 1:11:18 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on Mar 13, 2013 1:11:18 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Arthur was well aware that he apparently was the cause of certain cases of unpredictability in Erin. He’d be almost idiotically unaware of his surroundings if he didn't notice... or just in denial. And there was an odd part of him that liked this side of Erin. He had distant memories of first meeting the young nation when he was quite young himself while the French Normans had conquered Ireland. Francis had been somewhat reluctant in introducing them, as part of his reservations lie in the possibility of the British Isle nations forming some sort of future coalition to break away from his disgusting Norman hold. Arthur remembered being wary of her at first. While he was cold towards his capital, and was as belligerent as ever towards his two older brothers, Erin had been a bit of a mystery to the young nation. Of course, he was well aware of the vicious tribesmen that had populated her area, much like he was aware of Bran and Ewan’s pre-historical gaggles of tribes, but he had never met her. He remembered feeling unsure of how to treat her… Like a sibling? Like a friend? Like an enemy? Would she end up hurting him like Bran and Ewan had?
In the end, Arthur felt a myriad of things that couldn’t be easily categorised. He was sometimes amused by her volatile nature; he sometimes hated it. She annoyed him, she frustrated him, there was a bit of fascination weaved in as well, but she was actually able to keep his attention, which was enough in and of itself a reason to not ignore her completely. Their teenage years were the most unpredictable, chaotic, wild years between them. There was an almost tangible amount of frustration (at least on Arthur's end)—be it physical, emotional, or sexual. It was aggravating and perhaps the most confusing part of their past relationship. Arthur would admit that he was a sadistic bastard in his ‘adolescent’ phase of being a nation. He was wild, full of resentment and bitterness, and didn’t care a whit for consequences. He took what he wanted from the world—he longed to hold it by the throat and Erin was no exception: he had suppressed her, he had taken her, and he had subjugated her people. The Isle nations had treated each other brutally… and the moment the younger (formerly powerless) one gains power, he’s malicious with it. Yes, he will admit to that. A part of him; however, also wasn't particularly proud of that moment.
Arthur liked to think that he had learned from his younger years. Grew to be a bit more mature, hopefully, and learned to suppress his impulsiveness with a bit more grace. Sometimes Arthur wondered if that explained part of Erin’s mixed messages with him. How he had once inspired animosity in her, while still desiring something that felt a bit forbidden. Something unattainable—sometimes those were the most interesting things to lust after. Something about the chase was more satisfying, and completely consuming in the end. Arthur could relate to that... and often had indulged in those habits in the past. Staking claims and chasing after anything that was even remotely tempting to his ravenous attention.
Arthur could pretend that he sometimes didn’t notice Erin behaving a bit like he used to, but he couldn’t truly ignore it, as transparent as it sometimes was. He just… wasn’t really sure what to make of it. In the end, if she desired his attention (if he wasn’t already occupied with someone else) then he would give it to her, they might end up falling into bed… or pressed into the floor, the sofa, or the walls… Or she might push him away, a reaction that Arthur expected most of the time and shrugged off with an ease that only came with prior experience.
Arthur probably would have laughed at the idea of Erin keeping him in check. Yes, he would agree that she was far more likely to fall into the same old habits that they always fell in. Get drunk, make stupid choices, and find the nearest horizontal surface… Part of that was pattern was comfortable to Arthur. Ironically, he knew what to expect from Erin’s unpredictability. Perhaps it was inevitable after growing up together, sleeping together, arguing, having emotional breakdowns, dominating the other, suppressing the other, and fighting each other for the past several centuries.
At the moment, Arthur grinned at Erin’s ambiguous conclusion of the evening. ”Sounds about right, vague as that always is,” he teased lightly. He also couldn’t ignore the way that she eyed his double shot of tequila. Lovely. This was going well. Arthur; however, was anticipating the way that the tequila was running through his body, numbing and warming his extremities.
He watched her take her shot with as much ease as he expected her to. A small show of amusement planted over his features when it took her a slight moment to remember the ball before taking her shot. Not to his surprise, she landed another cup. He moved it to the side. His stare already had a bit of that warm glaze to them whenever he’d had quite a bit to drink... And they shone with complacency when he reached for another double shot. ”Not long, I’d wager,” he readily admitted after downing the second one beautifully, the tip of his tongue lingered, quickly swiping the edge of the glass as he eyed Erin. ”I had a head start before you arrived… Can’t say that I’ll last much longer.” The way that he had said that last part, sounded more like an underlying ‘to hell with sobriety!’
He took his position once more at the end of his table, taking another shot. It missed the one that he was aiming for, but had bounced into a different cup… completely by chance. Arthur chuckled at his barely shoddy luck; his cheeks were shaded, warm to the touch from the recently consumed tequila. Oh yes, he was already pretty far along in his venture of getting properly sloshed tonight… ”You’re turn, a mhuirnín.” He had used that endearment of hers before in the distant past, though now it was used more in drunken teasing without the weight behind it. His vocals were low and some of his words were starting to mesh in the slightest.
TAGGING: Erin/Pancake. NOTES: Pffff, I like that. xD Awkward drunken entanglements on the floor to retrieve the ball... And I got Marv's ok on the part where I mention Francis. TIME: Present.TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION. |
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Mar 18, 2013 16:27:34 GMT -5 |
Post by ERIN "IRELAND" PATRICK on Mar 18, 2013 16:27:34 GMT -5
[style=width:400px; background-color:#FFF; font-family: Freestyle Script; font-size: 50px; color:#000; border-top: 10px solid #FF7900; border-bottom: 10px solid #FF7900;]March 2012 Erin was aware of Arthur’s effects on her but she would be the first to deny it. Admitting it meant complicated things that had to be done to fix it. Erin didn’t want to have to deal with that so she just continued in blissful denial; especially because the extent of it was more than a little messy and confusing for the girl. Interactions with Arthur had been that way from the beginning.
Erin had been very young when she met Arthur, and given his current age, he’d be deemed pretty young then too by comparison. Erin had maintained an accepting tone toward Francis, though dislike was evident early on given the circumstances. At first she’d seen Arthur as a way to get some freedom from being controlled. Erin had idolized him right away as a perfect rescuer. He was going to be the hero who freed her...though, that was the mind of a child. Hard as it is to believe, she’d also been somewhat shy of him back then, but that didn’t last long...
Erin’s fiery personality and temper didn’t take long to start popping out again. She was intent on being around him and most definitely did irritate the living hell out of him. Erin had emotional ups and downs all over the place and if it could be believed, she was more stubborn back then as well. If she thought she knew what she wanted she was damn well going to get it!!
There were some troubling years later in that resulted in some strange reactions on both sides. Erin’s whorish nature blossomed fairly early and she found herself interested in more than just a platonic relationship. Erin used her own knowledge to begin intentionally teasing and frustrating, drawing on an ability to irritate that she hadn’t realized until then. It had taken years for her to understand how annoying she could be when she wanted to be. She put those skills to even better use when she realized her knight in shining armour was just as bad as the beautiful blonde who had taken control over her to begin with. Just as greedy and self-serving.
Perhaps it was that idolization that happened early on mixing with the warped hatred from Arthur oppressing her; but maybe it was something else. Either way, the feelings to this day were confusing for her. She still idolized him, still saw him as that potential knight in shining armour...but she also saw that fucking bastard who used the hell out of her and forced her to fight harder and harder to free herself from him. Now that she was free, she still craved his attention. Talk about sick and twisted...
One historical pattern Erin never got the chance to experience was control over another. She’d invaded small areas of England in raids a few times, but Erin had never been able to exercise control over another country. She’d been the one being controlled her whole life and that just made her all the more self-centered in her views. Someone who hasn’t had to care for anyone but themselves has a hard time setting aside their own problems to help another. Erin never developed skills that were needed to offset some of her more obnoxious traits as a result and once again that could be tentatively blamed on English control.
Even after so much hell, and all those years, Erin still wanted to see those eyes on her and him interacting with her. She didn’t like the idea of him being with others and that in itself was a problem. How well Arthur had realized this aspect of her was unclear, but Erin’s obsession with Arthur wasn’t something she spent too much time being aware of. She kept it suppressed in her mind so she didn’t have to accept that it was a problem. Not to mention that too much attention resulted in the never ending cycle of more physical relations and another morning spent storming out. Erin had little self-control to begin with and what she did have was lost when it came to Arthur. It was that lack of self control that kept her vying for his attention.
Erin was delighted as always to have that attention. ”Vague?! It’s not vague! It’s just happened so many times that all the times run together...Its specific in its non-specificity.” [/b] She spouted out with a grin. Erin pushed down the desire to get a taste of that Tequila from his lips and turned back to the game. Erin was feeling bubbly and delighted. The Alcohol was taking its toll in the mildest of ways. A couple more tequila shots and mild wouldn’t be the correct word anymore. She couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction that he was admitting to being well on his way to plastered and was ecstatic to hear he had been drinking beforehand. ”Oh me too of course. I’ve been tossing drinks back all day...”[/b] she offered with a hearty laugh. Erin cheered as Arthur’s shot made it into the cup. She immediately grabbed the double shot and took a long whiff of it before shooting it back. The warmth that spread and the lovely burn down her throat was thrilling. Erin couldn’t help the suggestive smile that played onto her features at the sound of the old nickname. For some reason she was finding the drunken teasing more thrilling than the old endearment that once came with it. Maybe it was the low tone? Or maybe the difference was the tequila in her system mingling with the whisky? Erin plucked up the ball and tossed it carelessly, landing it in a cup. ”Drink up, dathúil” she retorted, a similar teasing emphasis placed on the gaelic word for ‘handsome’ or ‘attractive’. It wasn’t a name she had used on him often in the past, though it had likely come up a few times in response to ‘a mhuirnin’. One thing was for sure...if he kept it up, this game of Beer Pong was going to end early. [/div] TAG: Arthur/Rye WORDS: 1007 OUTFIT: A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket. NOTES: Lol! Gotcha on talking to Marv. I kept things generic enough that I didn't bother asking, but if that event is cleared as how they met, even better! [/style][/style][/center]
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Mar 23, 2013 18:33:27 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on Mar 23, 2013 18:33:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The British Isles nations as a whole were a rather audacious bunch and Norman influence had eventually dwindled. The only good thing that came of that, aside from the growth, was that Arthur had been either introduced (in Erin’s case) or reacquainted with the others on the islands. He’d seen a side of Bran and Ewan that he hadn’t seen before, a camaraderie of sorts after they had all been taken, Bran had even attempted to help Arthur soon after he had been seized by the Normans. And soon after, the brothers were quick to welcome Erin into the fold. Another clear memory of Arthur's was Erin’s firm resolve to be near him within their early years. At first he had felt somewhat flattered… no one ever cared to be near him, let alone care to know where he even was. That kinship that he felt for her; however, dwindled into the usual irritation that he would come to know so well with her soon after: both for her volatile temper (which he wasn’t used to at that time) and for her sheer will. He didn't know what she wanted from him back then, but whatever it was, she seemed hell bent on getting it... and that drove him mad.
Arthur had little idea and he currently still had no clue that Erin had ever idiolised him. He would have been somewhat discomforted if he had known… as he couldn’t see the reasons for why she would have idolised him in the first place. Yes, he was prideful and could be quite irritatingly smug at times, but even as a child, he never believed himself to be deserving of that sort of admiration, even if it was thought up in childish ideation. Arthur never aimed to be that sort of person… but that didn’t mean that he never was, ironically.
The later years after they had grown a bit sometime after the Bubonic Plague were definitely some of the most confusing ones. Arthur’s promiscuity in the early years didn’t come into any real fruition until after he starting forming alliances with outside nations around the time of the Plague. Only then did physical intimacy, desire, and pleasure become something to experiment and play with. The nations were, perhaps, just as outrageous and self-indulgent as their kings in that regard. Aside from that, Arthur was hypocritical in desiring freedom from France and yet later denying it from others once he gained power. It was one of England’s most corrupt lengths of history—when Henry VIII held court—when Ireland was conquered. Shakespeare probably said it best when he called that reign an ugly stain in his history.
Arthur saw how much Erin hated him for controlling her. It was hard not to notice and he was more than a bit smug about having subdued her, the arrogant bastard that he was. And of course, Erin didn’t deny him the pleasure of beating her only once. He got to enjoy victory over her several times throughout history. It almost got to the point of Arthur becoming genuinely amused every time her men started gathering once more to plot for sovereignty. His favourite was still the Rebellion of 1798, as he also got to beat the ever living hell out of France. And so soon after…. well… that. Nonetheless it was glorious. (Like aforementioned… he was an arrogant bastard.)
Arthur was somewhat aware of Erin’s desire for his attention, though it may not seem like he was all that aware of it for how much consideration that he actually gave the matter. He was more akin to treating her blatant yearning similar to how a child might want something that wasn’t immediately given whenever they pleased. Sometimes he believed that her interest in him was a phase, something that she would eventually grow out of, or tire of like she did anything else, but still… he couldn’t shake the feeling that this might not be the case as time continued to pass... In some ways, both of them refused to see certain aspects of their screwed up relationship. Erin for her obsession and Arthur for seeing what it was. It probably didn’t help that Arthur had little self-control when it came to liquor or physical intimacy—things that tended to go hand in hand with him, unfortunately.
”Right,” he added to her statement with a small grin. ”In that case, I know exactly what to expect every time you arrive at my doorstep with a suitcase full of whiskey.” He suddenly wanted another taste, another shot to numb his thoughts, though watching Erin’s enthusiasm; he knew that he wouldn’t have to wait for long. There was enough liquor in his bloodstream to feel that perpetual warmth along with an alcohol-induced contentment. His smile, his rare laughter, and his warm gaze came a bit easier, unclouded by his usual shroud of sober sternness.
Arthur laughed when he heard her response to his admission to being well on his way to drunkenness. ”Of course you have. I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t.” He grinned at her, teasing once more. There were probably very few sober people on the island at the moment... The other British nations were very prone to also becoming sloshed on Erin’s day. None of them were immune. Hell, any reason to go to the pub and drown in liquor was a very legitimate reason. Arthur in particular had a penchant for acting a bit like a depraved tease whenever he’d had a few too many. Nobody within an arm’s length was safe.
A moment before Erin landed another, Arthur was already reaching for the next double shot, his fingers itching to grab more. Warmth flooded him as his cheeks coloured pleasantly at her comment and he couldn’t help but to offer a bit of a smile before throwing back his shot. He used to smile at her far more often in the past… though now they were only easily prompted by alcohol and whenever the atmosphere was light. His throat was beginning to grow a little numb from all the liquor and his gaze was somewhat unfocused. He loosened the first few buttons of his shirt, allowing his overheated neck to breathe. A sloshed Arthur was always a flushed and heated Arthur. But he liked it that way.
Taking the ball once more, he made a really shoddy throw and it ended up hitting the edge of the table before eventually rolling beneath. Arthur snorted before ducking down to search for it, narrowly avoiding giving himself a royal bruise against the leg of the table when the vertigo got to him. He landed on his side, laughter growing as glazed, green eyes continued to watch the ball as it made its way towards Erin’s under side of the table. He made a grab for it.
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Mar 27, 2013 10:23:21 GMT -5 |
Post by ERIN "IRELAND" PATRICK on Mar 27, 2013 10:23:21 GMT -5
[style=float: left; width:400px; height:200px; background-image:url(http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r181/FerraLeah/Erin%20Patrick/Erin_0017_Layer18.jpg); border-radius: 50px 50px 0px 0px;]
[style= font-family: arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight:bold; color: #FF7900; text-transform: uppercase; height: 50px; line-height:80%; text-align: center;] It don’t do me any good, It’s just a waste of time…
Erin had been and still was particularly attached to Arthur. She had camaraderie with Ewan and found Bran to be very much her brother, but Arthur was the one she had always looked up to. Ever since she had met him. She had followed him around, kept a close eye on him and made sure he was never too far away. Just like Arthur’s flattered feelings waned, over time Erin started to see him as only semi-untouchable. The result was for her temper and annoyance levels to skyrocket with intention. It could be said she was testing him in those days. She was concerned he would walk away and gave him every reason to. Maybe the adoration and idolization still existed today because he never fully left...even if the manner for which he was around in the middle years wasn’t to her preference.
Of course, that love was then partnered with hate when Arthur turned around and crushed her people into submission. The knight he was supposed to be had become just as bad as the initial suppressor. She came to despise him and love him at the same time. It was a hell of a lot more confusing than when France had been dominant over her. With her increase in age had come feelings that she just didn’t have during the Norman Invasion and that complicated her relationship with Britain.
Erin’s emotions were from those days on one confusion rollercoaster. Her temper fused with emotional imbalance to cause the quick swaps back and forth that people knew of today. She would slip from content and excited to furious. Her temper got the better of her more times than she could count and she would raise up in defiance only to be pushed back on her butt.
She hadn’t really lost that fighting spirit at any point in her life and it could be argued that Arthur fuelled it making it more prominent today. The worst of it was certainly 1798. Arthur had granted independence to the United States when they won, and Erin had been bitter. She’d been fighting for the right to rule herself for so long that the thought of a child doing it was enraging. She’d made a stupid mistake and as usual he had crushed it. France had helped Alfred, but he failed her completely.
The fact that she had allied with France spoke wonders to where her mind had gotten to. The situation had shifted. She wasn’t oppressed by France, hoping England would save her. She was oppressed by England hoping France would help her. Yet, she was still the one being stepped on and needing help to stand back up...Eventually she stood back up and kept pushing. She’d get her way, it’d just take hundreds of years of getting shoved over and getting back up.
Erin felt she had shown her worth...her persistence had made her victorious. Ultimately, England had won more battles and more wars over the years. His victories had only served to plop her down for a short time before she got back up. His victories were empty. Ultimately they meant nothing after she had gained her independence. He had to win many times to keep her subdued. But one victory was all it took to gain her independence and her way. Erin had made all his victories irrelevant, because in the end, she had won.
Despite all of that effort, and all that time pushing and pushing him to get her way, those feelings survived. That was the frustrating part. She couldn’t make them go away. Erin acted on her emotions. She did whatever she wanted when she wanted. Perhaps her victory was just as hollow. She still relied on England in many ways and he curbed some of her desires. Did he not still have control in that sense? She had felt this way for centuries...was it really possible it would never go away? Would he control her forever?!!
At least in short moments she could affect him as well. It wasn’t purely one-sided anymore. She had power, however small. She had a voice now and a voice made all the difference. ”Perhaps...but the little things change...”
[/b] she retorted, taking a double shot of tequila despite the ball not having been thrown by Arthur yet. The exact route was different, but the results were the same. Erin grinned smugly, ”I hate to disappoint”[/b] she retorted, her tone equally teasing. Erin wasn’t so concerned with the other British Isles or their residents as what was happening right here. She enjoyed this day for her, and everyone else could do as they pleased...unless she wanted them to do otherwise. Seeing Arthur’s smile, Erin could feel a slight skip in her chest as her heart caught. Though, he only really smiled at her properly when alcohol was concerned in recent years...maybe that was all it was? Yes, that must be it...but right now the reason didn’t matter. She watched as the buttons were loosened and moved to the side of the table. Her eyes were on him as he threw the ball but she didn’t pay attention to it falling right away until he ducked down to look for it. Snapping out of it, Erin ducked down to search herself. He’d missed, that meant no shot. She spotted the ball rolling and slid forward to make a grab for it herself. Instead she accidentally swatted it and watched it fly further, with poor Arthur’s hand hovering not far from where it had been. ”Oops...my bad...”[/b] she said with amusement all over her face, even though it had been a mistake. She turned to look at Arthur, to get a close visual of his reaction. Given the size of the table, they were not far from one another... [/div] DATE: March 2012 TAG: Arthur/Rye WORDS: 966 LYRICS: "Things I’ll never say" By Avril Lavigne OUTFIT: A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
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Apr 29, 2013 16:13:45 GMT -5 |
Post by Arthur "England" Kirkland on Apr 29, 2013 16:13:45 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - In some ways, Arthur could empathise with Erin’s thoughts. He would have fought just as hard as she did had if anyone had been above him in the same sense. Dealing with conflicting feelings for that same individual, though—that was a bit more difficult. Arthur wasn’t even sure if he could pinpoint the moment when he started to pick up on them… or even when their relationship became a hell of a lot more complicated. It probably happened in a similar fashion as to how their arguments usually unfolded. There may or may not have been liquor involved… he couldn’t remember that detail. Or perhaps that’s why the details were vague. All he could recollect was the tension-- building, thick and suffocating, until it snapped. The ironic thing about those sorts of encounters was the unbelievable high that came from it afterwards—trapping them in the same addictive, destructive pattern. It was captivating in a twisted way.
Arthur had always been too involved in his own conceited endeavours, threaded with anger and bitterness gathered from his brothers and France, to focus too much on the confusing relationship he had with Erin. He had never been exceptional at retaining ‘normal’ relationships with anyone, really. It seemed like everyone in his life had complicated ties to him. Nobody was just ‘one thing’ to him. Perhaps, then, the fault was his. Perhaps he just had a knack for bringing out the worst in others?
Erin’s persistence and sheer resolve, a usual defining trait of the British Isles, is exactly why Arthur never completely thought less of her... as he had a tendency to do with most others that offered him little interest to begin with. Being old usually meant that he was easily bored. Sure, he grew aggravated and was often dismissive of Erin's attempts to wriggle out of his control, but that same spark of interest, no matter how dull it grew at times, never really waned. She had shown her worth. Though that is something that he would never admit to. Arthur couldn't help but to hold well-hidden sliver of respect for her pluck.
Arthur was never persistent in making certain feelings go away. They just were. Sometimes putting forth the effort to try and erase them only made them more noticeable... and even grow in some cases. Arthur knew. He’d tried with others. All in wasted effort, because it’s pointless to pretend that something doesn’t exist. Stubborn nations; however, are stubborn and will never admit to anything of the sort. Arthur, truthfully, didn’t even know where to begin with Erin. Their feelings were explosive, complicated, and too strange to dissect. Of course, that’s probably bound to happen with anyone after centuries of knowing them inside and out.
An amused grin tugged at the corners of Arthur’s mouth at Erin’s retort… followed by a double shot of tequila. She probably needed it if she wanted to play catch-up with him. He was already content in his state of near-drunkenness. Not horribly so, but pretty close. That didn’t matter. Whatever the case, he felt good. He didn’t notice her stare. His eyes were on the ball and his attention wandered far too easily in this state. The warmth in the room grew. All so deliciously warm and hazy. Even being on his hands and knees under the stupid table, he felt fairly content and in a weirdly pleasant mood. Got to love tequila…
Arthur’s fingers grasped at nothing as Erin accidently swatted the ball to the corner of the room. Before he could even really react, he snorted softly with amusement. ”It’s okay,” his voice was low and scratchy. He glanced at Erin just as she turned to look at him. There really was little room under this table… and she was close. A light warmth rested over his face, something a little more than the usual heat that came with copious amounts of liquor. His muddled attention wandered as green eyes rested distractedly over Erin’s expression. Soft, confused, and similar to when they were both far younger... He looked at her in a way he hadn’t looked at her in years. Before the complications.
Perhaps it was the alcohol… it definitely had a hand in lowering those carefully crafted walls that he carried around him like a safeguard. His sense of security and strength stripped, leaving only Arthur behind—exposed and vulnerable. His expression relaxed into another half-smile, a hint of that playfulness from before seeping back. Without much thought, he leaned forward, pausing for only a moment, half a ragged breath, before closing the gap. His bottom lip slid against hers, slow and uncertain, before tilting to give her a proper kiss. Compared to the ones that they were both probably used to giving and receiving, it was simple, yet far from innocent. A prickled warmth spread beneath his skin as he lingered, tasting her top lip and tracing it with familiarity. The undertone of tequila was strong and the colour remained in Arthur’s face as he retreated. He was too gone to give her anything more than a hazy, warm look. Even so, sloshed-Arthur wasn’t sure if he should be more alarmed, amused (for no apparent reason), or just not give a damn...
TAGGING: Erin/Pancake. NOTES: Finally got this up.. sorry for the wait -.- TIME: Present.TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION. |
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May 30, 2013 10:50:13 GMT -5 |
Post by ERIN "IRELAND" PATRICK on May 30, 2013 10:50:13 GMT -5
[style=float: left; width:400px; height:200px; background-image:url(http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r181/FerraLeah/Erin%20Patrick/Erin_0017_Layer18.jpg); border-radius: 50px 50px 0px 0px;]
[style= font-family: arial; font-size: 16px; font-weight:bold; color: #FF7900; text-transform: uppercase; height: 50px; line-height:80%; text-align: center;] It don’t do me any good, It’s just a waste of time…
For Erin, the persistence she showed was all about the hunt. She wanted something or someone, and once she had it, the rest didn’t matter anymore. That meant that the object was less important once she had it. Or in the case of people, the person was less important once she had them. Temporarily having caught what she wanted was perfect for her. It meant the game wasn’t over and neither was the aim to capture the person in the first place. It was like a teaser to what she could have. But as with all things, once Erin had what she wanted, the novelty was lost. It was for this reason alone that Arthur was such a temptation for Erin. He was there, she could have him briefly, but she could never keep him. The perfect target; One that would never get old.
Her independence had been the same. Something she strived for, needed and wanted. Something she hated him for taking away. Yet, eventually she had achieved it, and once she had, it lost its real value to her. Especially once there were more meetings, and political issues she had to address on her own that were never hers before. It was more work, and though the rewards were there, the ecstatic feeling of fighting for what she wanted wasn’t there anymore. Erin was very self-destructive in that she loved the chase even though it was accompanied with that feeling of loss or loneliness...she hated those feelings yet once they were sated she got bored.
Arthur had become an outlet for that desire. He wasn’t the only one, as a similar feeling had developed for Alfred, him being one of the few she ‘dated’ exclusively for a time. Where the interest came from was different. Arthur was more mature, more real to Erin than Alfred ever would be. He lacked the light and fluffy. He had a weight to him that Alfred couldn’t have being as young as he was. Erin liked that weight when those eyes were on her. She liked that Arthur didn’t let her walk all over him, and that Arthur felt so above everyone else. Perhaps it was all her own perceptions, since most of Erin’s world was based on her own notions and ideas of how the world should be. Parts of it were very real though. Arthur had proved himself a conqueror, a reliable strength and had formed into a solid force through most of her years. That idea of protection was too precious for her to walk away from it...But it was so dangerous...Erin didn’t feel she needed protection but she was interested in power. The ability to protect also meant you needed to be powerful. That was what Alfred and Arthur had in common. Both of them were powerful on their respective sides of the globe.
Erin was finding that exact attraction even now. How could you feel someone was powerful when they were on all fours under a table searching for a ping pong ball? If ever things started to make sense for Erin and for Arthur, then the amazing rapport they had would be severely shaken. This was just another one of those mysteries for Erin. His low tone when he said ‘it’s okay’ didn’t help that feeling. How did he manage to seem so graceful and so...Erin couldn’t find the word. After a moment, her mind supplied the word regal. He appeared regal even now. Erin had paused her mind muddled with these thoughts and observations.
His expression shifted and Erin found her breath had caught a little. She couldn’t explain it. Her observational skills had never been great, but the expression was familiar somehow. She couldn’t recall from when, but it was familiar. Somewhat comfortable too, despite it not being a usual expressions she found on that face or in those green eyes. It was there...and then, it was just gone again. Erin found that caught breath was released easily once that expression was gone. What had that expression been? Where had she seen it before?!
The next thing she knew there was a pair of lips so close to hers, and she found herself moving into it. Within a moment that felt so long but so short all at the same time, there was a pleasant warmth spreading through her as full contact led to a kiss. A nice proper one too. Erin could feel the gentle breath from him, and it paired with the wonderful smell of Tequila from both of them. It was gone too quickly though, and Erin let out a small noise of protest as he moved away. She rolled back a bit so she was no longer under the table and instead she was sitting on her legs. She grinned at him as she realized her heart was pounding. It was strange...it felt strange. Erin kissed people all the time, but the feelings that came with it were usually quite empty. This was very different from that empty feeling. It was warm, fuzzy and very comfortable. She had completely forgotten about the ball...
”You do know how to make your guests feel welcome...”
[/b] The words just tumbled from her lips as she struggled for something to say or do to break the weight that had settled on the room. In a way she wanted it to stay, but she also wanted to avoid anything being awkward. She wasn’t so drunk that she was completely out of her mind yet, though her thoughts were jumbling just the same. [/div] DATE: March 2012 TAG: Arthur/Rye WORDS: 927 LYRICS: "Things I’ll never say" By Avril Lavigne OUTFIT: A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
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