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Post by Isadora Mariah Diardo on May 28, 2013 18:15:59 GMT -5
It had been far too long since she'd gotten to play. Honestly, she didn't understand how that little twit could even function, she was an idiot and Isadora hated watching her spread her stupidity everywhere. And the fucking horses. Isadora's nose wrinkled as she remembered the smell of the beasts. Ugh. She hated horses. She'd almost wanted to just burn the whole fucking barn down, then let precious little Izzy back in control. Let her wake up to the screams of those dumb beasts as the fire burned them alive. So what stopped her from doing exactly that? She didn't want to give up control, and it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying if Izzy didn't get to watch all her precious work, and horses, go up in smoke. She'd tramped her ass up to Izzy's house and stormed the closet. No horse smelling jeans for her.
Her lips pursed as she barely found a suitable dress, one Isadora had stuck into her wardrobe a long time ago. Izzy must have forgotten about it. Good. Next she needed some good heels, something that wasn't the flat sneakers or tacky boots Izzy preferred. Ah, there we go! Perfect. A grin curled its way onto Isadora's face as she changed her clothes, running a hand over the little black dress and stepping out of the room now satisfied she didn't look like a fucking country hick. She paused as she passed a mirror, pursing her lips at the sight of her hair up in a pony tail. Letting her hair down she ran a hand through it, until she was satisfied with the slightly curled hair that fell past her shoulders. She was vain enough to find herself attractive without make up, though she was debating rummaging to see if she could find any that she'd left.
Izzy didn't wear make up. It was annoying. Everything that Isadora had done and gotten while in control had just about been removed, replaced, or forgotten in some nook or cranny. The stupid ignorant bitch needed to stop fucking with her shit when she was forced back into that little brats head. She opened the closet door at the hall way just before the front door, humming slightly as she dug through the various coats there, finding the one coat she would wear, shrugging it on. She didn't really need it, cold didn't particularly affect her, however she was going to find her own income source, and that involved having pockets to put said income in. Stepping out of the house Isadora sneered at the barn, what a stupid way to live. Annoying beasts. She stepped off the porch, intent on heading into town.
She planned on going to Indulgence, Izzy never went there but the idiot woman had heard things about it, and therefore Isadora knew about it. She wanted to party, she wanted to drink, she wanted to be free. And sitting at a house watching stupid animals prance around wasn't being free to her. The town wasn't far from where Izzy had built her little pathetic stable and Isadora was pleased when she arrived. She was rather excited to explore the town as herself, not stuck in the back of the mind of someone she despised oh so very much. She quickly found herself in the park, oddly enough, and her heels clicked against the pavement of the side walk, a satisfying sound to her if she did say so herself. And then there it was. The sound hit her just as she spotted him and she just about snarled.
That fucking banjo. Oh she hated it. Maybe even more than she hated the woman whose mind she'd taken over. Josiah. Fucking Josiah. And fuck. He'd spotted her. God dammit. He wasn't supposed to be here, Izzy hadn't ever run into the banjo playing annoying as all hell, childish man and Isadora especially didn't think she'd run into him. Well, fuck. She'd make him think she was Izzy, tell him she had to go, but they'd meet later, and then not meet him. Skip out on town. There was no way she was going back to sit in her mind prison. "Josi? Josi is that you!" Her voice was sweet, sick to her ears but it would sound just like Izzy. Annoying as all hell. A fake smile that was all too real was plastered on her face as she hurried over to the man. Ugh. She hated this already. Words: 750 Tag: Josiah Notes: bahaha she's such a psycho Outfit: click |
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Post by Josiah Remington Clarke on May 29, 2013 21:00:04 GMT -5
Every now and then, when business was slow and there was nothing going on in the bar, Josi decided that it was a good idea to leave the place in the competent hands of the bartenders. Today was just one of those days. It wasn’t particularly bitter out and there was nothing stopping him from enjoying the night air, free of the encumberances of the world that he lived in. Sometimes, he just had to get the hell out of there, see somewhere else, play somewhere else, and above all, be somewhere else. He loved his bar, don’t get him wrong, but he’d been recently accused of never leaving. He’d been mildly affronted, more because it was the absolute truth than anything else. He left mostly to sleep and to eat something other than the bar food that was constantly provided him by his well trained and happy fry cooks. If he was human, he’d be earning himself a heart attack bite by bite of delicious fried food. There were some blessings in being a crimson, even if it meant no sun for the rest of his life. That was damn well okay with him at this point.
Ducking out the back before the early rush started, Josi grabbed his banjo from its place in the office and practically skipped to the park, enjoying the fresh air. Well, it wasn’t precisely fresh, but it was a damn sight better than the rather smoky air in the bar. Some vampires were particularly fond of smoking, now that they couldn’t die because of it. Immortality encouraged entirely too many bad habits, from fried food and alcohol to smoking and poor decisions. The first few years were fun, everyone knew that, but then came the coping that a lot of things that were initially valuable were no longer that way. Danger lost its sting and discovery remained the only thrill. At one point or another, every vampire, crimson or not, looked death in the face and realized exactly how far they were from human. It was one of the seminal moments in a life. His own had been the crushing realization (no pun intended) that he was still alive after being buried under tons of rock. It had been disturbing and terrifying. That, he was sure, was why crimsons were so off in the beginning. Dying, only to wake up back in the same damn world was a rather unnerving and unpleasant experience.
He settled himself on one of the benches, brought the banjo across his lap, and started playing. He was sure that he was going to chase some quiet seekers out of the park, but at this point he didn’t care. He strummed a bit before picking out something old, something sweet. His fingers moved naturally over the neck of the instrument, his other hand picking out the melody. He was lost in the music more than anything as he moved from song to song. To him, the twang of the banjo was one of the sweetest sounds around. He knew that there were people that didn’t agree with him, that saw it as some kind of instrument of torture. In his opinion, they could go elsewhere at the moment. He wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He laid his head back and played, making the whole damn park his practice room.
Even when he heard familiar voice over the twang of his instrument, he didn’t stop playing. He lifted his head back up, opening his eyes to see if really was who it sounded like. Same body, same voice, most likely the wrong clothes. Izzy was more practical than that. Even though she’d disappeared at the start of the war, that much he remembered. Unless this was some new thing or some required outfit for a social gathering, she wasn’t the one for black on black heels and dresses and coats. No, that was more Isadora’s thing. That crazy woman had one too many tricks up her sleeve and he wasn’t going to fall for any acts if this wasn’t Izzy. No, he’d been duped once or twice by the crazy bitch and he wasn’t going to let it happen one more time. If anything, he need to figure out which one it was and in case of emergency, he was going to need to bring back the better half.
“Nice to see you, Iz, it’s been a while,” he said, playing a little louder and a little faster, watching for any indication that Izzy was actually the one in charge right now. She didn’t particularly like the banjo, but she put up with it with little indignation and more of a ‘silly man’ attitude than the other side did. It was one of the first clues that he always had with her. Every time he dealt with the crazy one, he acted on assumptions and small clues that people who weren’t concerned with keeping Izzy intact would miss. They were small things, but in the end they had always been everything. From things like the clothes to what was on the menu, there were just ways to tell and he was the master in them. The most important one, however, was what happened if he hit what he’d come to think of as Isadora’s off switch. If it was just Izzy, she’d shriek with laughter and smack him with stern instructions to not tickle her. Isadora, on the other hand, looked confused and then pissed off as she faded out and was replaced with an even more confused looking Izzy. A light touch in the mid back and the truth was always revealed, normally without any major disasters.
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Notes: woot!
Words: 949
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Post by Isadora Mariah Diardo on May 30, 2013 12:22:11 GMT -5
Isadora was well aware of the little pressure point that was her complete undoing. That's why she was always so very hesitant to deal with Josiah, because he was the one who could bring her back, he was the only one who knew about it, hell she was pretty sure that little idiot was the only one who could seal her away. She wasn't going back, not this time. It would be tricky however, Josiah was very good at telling the differences between Izzy and Isadora, and it didn't help that she was dressed how she was. Had Isadora known that Josiah was in town she would have been a bit more conservative, as much as her pride would allow herself. It was a small hindrance however, as she could very easily give an excuse for her current attire. Which she would and he wouldn't know the difference.
She might have to find a different town to terrorize, she couldn't very well be here when the only way to send her away was playing the fucking banjo on a bench now could she? Which he, of course, started playing louder and faster. She tried to hide the response, but there was a distinct tightening of her jaw, a strain in her smile for a moment as the offending music assaulted her ears. It was always the god damn banjo that got her. She needed to work on that, though she thought she hide her reaction quite well this time. She forced herself to become playful, her eyes rolling in feigned annoyance which could very well border on actual annoyance as she pranced (because that's how the little twit walked) over to where he sat. She was very careful to plop down next to him, pressing her back firmly against the wood.
He wouldn't be getting the better of her this time. Isadora very much disliked being so close to the banjo playing idiot but Izzy wouldn't have hesitated to taking up a spot next to what she considered her favorite person in the world. Imagine that, the little twit loved those dumb beasts, and found a childish banjo man her favorite person. Someone needed to educate the poor woman. Or Isadora could just keep her shoved in the back of her mind. Izzy didn't remember anything Isadora did, so why should it matter if Izzy just..didn't come back? "It certainly has! I'm not sure what happened, one day I was listening to you terrorize everyone with your banjo, and the next I woke up here!" Ugh, she hated impersonating Izzy. So bubbly and air headed in her opinion. So annoying. And she couldn't even figure out what the hell happened when she blacked out.
However, her dark inner thoughts never showed on her face as she beamed at the man she hated so very much. "Have you been here long? I can't believe I haven't seen you before!" Isadora really couldn't believe it. How could either of them, Izzy or Isadora, miss the banjo playing idiot? That's just about all he did and the sound was so obnoxious that missing it could hardly be possible. He obviously hadn't been looking for Izzy, Isadora was very much smug about that. She'd been in the city since the end of the war, in the same place, with the same job, the same house. No sign of Josiah anywhere. Izzy'd never been bothered by it, Isadora had been so very gleeful. Yet here he was now, when she'd just managed to wrestle control from Izzy. She wasn't sure how, and she didn't much care why, the only thing she wanted was Josiah either gone or dead.
Her beam threatened to turn into a deadly smirk as she thought of that possibility. Isadora could never do it, oh no, any sign of aggression from her and he'd be going for her 'off switch'. But that didn't mean she couldn't get someone else to do it. Oh yes, that was a good idea. No more Josiah meant no more going back to the prison in Izzy's mind. She didn't know why she didn't think of it sooner. She merely needed to convince him she was Izzy, get away from him, and she'd work on just that. She wouldn't have to leave the city then, and she'd never have to worry about loosing control again. Isadora was much too powerful, much too firm on her own control to let the little bitch wiggle her way back into command. Word: 760 Tag: Josi Notes: Um..woo? xD |
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Post by Josiah Remington Clarke on Jun 1, 2013 7:07:14 GMT -5
He watched as she sat down. It was damn tempting to say it was Izzy, but at the same time, the clothes and now the reluctance to let her back face him, well, those both pointed to the crazy one being in control of the body. Freaking crimsons, some (like himself) managed to keep it together for the most part and then there were the ones who got all kinds of screwed up in the transition, whether they knew it or not. He wondered for a moment if there were other duos like this out there, one keeping the other sane and hoping that it worked out in the end and that no one got killed in the process. It was a pretty easy job when things were going right, but getting Isadora back in the box had always been a bit of a trial. First, finding her, and then getting close enough to actually touch her. She wasn’t a fan and he’d gotten more than his fair share of black eyes and kicks to the crotch when dealing with her. She fought dirty and it wasn’t fair.
“I’ve been here since the end of the war,” he said with a shrug, “Nashville got a bit destroyed and there was a distinct lack of bars ‘round here, so I opened one. How ‘bout you, what have you been up to?” He had to tread carefully with this entire mess. He was quite sure that Isadora would like nothing more than to kill him, but that was always something that she’d been prevented from doing over the years, normally by his being quick on his feet and hitting the off switch before she could throttle him. Before he made a move, however, he did have to be sure. Besides, if it was Isadora, it was probably better to play it off as him thinking Izzy was in control and getting her as she walked away. Was it all that sneaky? No. Was it the best plan he had at the moment? Yes. And that was about all he could do at the moment aside from playing the banjo.
In all honesty, he couldn’t see why people didn’t like the instrument. Yes, it was shrill and yes, it twanged. But the guitar could twang just as well and fiddles weren’t only shrill, they could be damn screechy if the situation called for it or the player was being an ass. And yet, all of the hatred got levelled at the poor banjo, a beautiful instrument. He just didn’t understand and that was one of those questions for the ages that he left hanging in the space between actually asking it and wondering about casually. He might someday ask the question, but not today and not to this person. Although, it could be a good tell on who it was, it was a track he hadn’t used in the past. He plucked away idly at the strings, keeping a bit of a melody going but focusing more on the situation at hand.
“What’s with the get-up?” he asked. “Looks pretty damn uncomfortable to me.” Well, if that wasn’t an obvious dig at who he thought was in control, he didn’t know what was. Damn he was rusty at this. He used to be a little bit sneakier and a little more subtle. Now he was just plinking away at the banjo and asking asking questions that were about as obvious as a nine pound hammer. Good one, Josiah. He was going to have to work on that in the future, but for now it was said and done and there was nothing that he could do to take back what he said.
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Notes: bit short, oh well.
Words: 619
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Post by Isadora Mariah Diardo on Jun 2, 2013 14:03:30 GMT -5
There were mix feelings over finding out that Josiah had been in the city since the end of the war. The fact that the twit had missed that Josi had been here the entire time only wanted to make her sigh and roll her eyes, the fact that he hadn't found her, or bothered to look it seemed, amused her greatly. Perhaps Josiah had found it easier to live without Izzy and her constant need of saving from the big bad monster that lingered within. And if that was the case....well, maybe she should make it seem like Izzy was just fine without him. Maybe her freedom didn't lie in his death or leave town. Maybe all she had to do was convince him that she was just fine without him, that Izzy was perfectly in control. Or, she could just kill him. That worked too. And imagine that, the childish banjo player had a bar. Fantastic.
She smiled brightly at him, trying to keep her body language distinctly Izzy and not the more proper and prim body language Isadora liked to display. "Well, isn't that just odd! Same city all this time and we didn't even know it" She was very much sure that both of them were just idiots. Honestly, it wasn't all that hard to find someone, especially if they were in the same fucking city. Regardless she had all the confidence that she wouldn't have to deal with either of the two much longer. "I built a stable actually, just outside the city. You must come see it sometime" She hated that fucking stable. Should really just burn it to the ground. "That's probably why we've missed each other, I spend most of my time out there" Or, as she'd thought before, they both were just idiots. Or Josiah didn't care about Izzy enough to find her.
She liked that option better. Honestly, she was starting to think maybe she'd gone about this entire thing wrong. Maybe all she needed to do was convince him it wasn't his duty to protect Izzy, that she'd be perfectly safe tucked away in Isadora's mind. Isadora was, after all, the stronger of the two, she might hate Izzy but she would protect her because she had too. There was no reason for Josiah to stick around, no reason for him to stick around a woman who would never be more than the girl he has to look out for. Well, if it came to him calling her out, she'd switch tactics, he couldn't do anything with her back pressed against the bench. She still planned on killing him, he was a threat to her and she wasn't willing to let him run around. It would be foolish to let her only off switch be flouncing around with his damn banjo in the same city.
He asked about her clothes and she glanced down, her face forming a bit of an odd mix of confusion and slight distaste. "I got invited to a party by one of the boarders, I found this in the back of the closet. I don't have a single idea where it came from" She murmured lightly, crossing her arms as if the sudden thought of what she was wearing was a bit uncomfortable for her. "I didn't want to be rude, and this was all I had." Lies, Izzy had a few nice dresses sitting in the closet that screamed country bumpkin, ones Isadora wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. But he surely wouldn't know that, given he'd been away for a rather long time. He needed to go away for a long time. She wasn't very much interested in keeping him around, even if she could convince him Izzy didn't need him, or he didn't need Izzy. Either way. Words: 649 Tag: Josi Notes: whooo for posty |
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Post by Josiah Remington Clarke on Jun 18, 2013 0:39:20 GMT -5
For a moment there, he thought he saw some kind of aggression through her eyes. Maybe it was just him. Maybe it wasn’t. He really was bad at this anymore, he hadn’t had to deal with the complications of the Izzy/Isadora dynamic in a very long time (okay, not all that long all things considered) and it was quite possibly showing in this interaction, if this was indeed Isadora. If not, well, she’d probably call him out on being strange here soon. At the moment, he did feel a little guilty that he hadn’t been looking for her more actively, rather than waiting for the dark side to come waltzing into his bar and making a beeline back to the door. Then again, was it really wrong to let them figure it out, let Izzy work out self control for herself? Maybe, maybe not. It was one of those things that he would have to live with in the future and in the present.
“Strange indeed,” he said, pausing for a moment on the strings. Admittedly, he practically lived in the bar and his apartment was well within quick stumbling distance of it, but there were plenty of other things he sometimes did, such as head out for a bite and try to work his way into the good graces of the local distiller to get access to that damn good rum. He’d like to have that in the bar, serve something a little classier than the high rate swill that made up most of his stock. “Probably so, I pretty much inhabit the Blasting Cap. I also have a habit of staying away from things that can capriciously crush me, so horses are kind of out of my league,” he said, for a moment having an all too vivid memory of the crushing weight of the mine above him. It really was amazing he hadn’t snapped more than the few times when he was younger.
Hell, he didn’t even know what would happen if he did lose control. It had never really been one of the things that he thought about. It was so far from his perception of the world that it was completely out of his mind most of the time. Generally, he was concerned with keeping other crimsons in check. All the years of practice with Izzy had actually panned out. He’d learned damn well how to suss out the triggers of the vamps around him and how to make damn sure that he didn’t hit them. It wasn’t all that hard in the end, although he had needed to call the Hunters in a few times to deal with rather stubborn clients, but there were plenty of azures and onyxes in that mix as well. Just a lot more crimsons, it was a problem for his kind. And it didn’t help that they were generally looked down on, cast out, and considered unsafe to be around. Hell, he hadn’t gone on a killing spree in, well, ever. The actions of the few should not define the fate of the many, but this seemed to be one of those situations where that was indeed the case and he just had to live with it.
It was a semi-valid sounding excuse, although years of ingrained spidey-senses about these sorts of things were tingling. “Your evil twin probably bought it,” he said. If he was being obvious, might as well be the damn ten pound hammer of of obviousness. He was being an idiot, sure, but that was exactly what Isadora thought he was, it didn’t hurt to feed her assumption, made him that much less threatening by his own strange logic. “Makes sense, although I’ve personally always seen you as less black-on-black and more eyelet lace and boots for those kind of things,” he said with a shrug.
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Notes: holy hell, its a post!
Words: 689
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Post by Isadora Mariah Diardo on Jun 23, 2013 19:43:12 GMT -5
Isadora had a habit becoming bored quickly, and when she became bored things for the people around her did not go well. Boredom was something Isadora did not deal with in a good way, it was her crutch and she became more violent, more unhinged than she already was. She was growing bored with Josi. So very bored. She was tired of listening to his excuses, listening to the pathetic words that left his mouth. She'd taken some stock in his fear of being crushed, the brief image of his broken body underneath the hooves of the dozen or so horses that lived at the barn brought a sadistic smile to her face, one she didn't bother hiding. She was done hiding, done pretending to be the little twit. Her demeanor changed in an instant, the fake unease left her as her arms unfolded, instead going to rest along the back of the bench, one leg crossing graciously over the other, not caring if her dressed hiked up her thighs a bit more at the action.
Her head tilted back and she let out a long, low groan. "Josiah, you bore me, honestly you do. Your little quips are just..dreadfully bad." Her tone was low and had an edge to it, her voice always had an edge to it. Like a dangerous viper, her movements, her voice was low, seductive, and promised dark things. Her head rolled to the side, feeling smug and confident with her back pressed against the wood. "Of course I bought it, honestly, the poor little country bumpkin had hardly anything worth wearing in that closet of hers." She rose a delicate eyebrow, watching him carefully, ready to make a move if he suddenly thought to get cheeky and try to force her back into Izzy's mind. "Though she's found some new clothes, things I might even approve of. She's growing you know, I think you held her back, silly man. You know, I'm pretty sure she just doesn't need you"
Whether Josiah would believe her or not, she didn't much care, he wouldn't have a clue that she's lying, not unless he was able to shove her back into her little box in the back of Izzy's mind. Which she wasn't willing to happen. Nope, not this time around. She'd get away from him and she wouldn't have to worry about ever going back. "I find it funny you never tried to find her. What, tired of picking up after me? You know, it's not your job to babysit her, you don't need to come to her rescue. She's perfectly safe with me" She intoned lazily, not really caring if he'd listen to her words or not. "I really wish that you'd leave me alone." Might as well give him the real reason for her trying to convince him to leave Izzy be. She watched him steadily, her eyes never leaving his own, the hardness that usually accompanied Isadora easily seen within the brilliant brown.
"If you leave now, you won't be bothered by me ever again Josiah. It's your only warning" And then there was the threat. Eh, she wasn't willing to beat around the bush. She'd given him several reasons to leave her the hell alone, if he didn't want to take one, then fine. So be it. Tag: Josiah Words: 570 Notes: sorry its so short but its a pooost |
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