they say hotels are cheap. [open]

[ᴋᴀᴛᴇ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,5,true][atrb=width,450,true][bg=384A43] Odessa Porter "speaking" normal text thinking She winced as she pulled a bottle from her thin lips, her upper body shuddering as the sharp liquid went down her throat. Thin feet, bare from any shoes or socks, swayed to and fro from the edge of the dock and her toes grazed the surface of the ocean water beneath them. The owner of them out out a sigh and placed her one hand down a little too hard, and the clear bottle in her hand hit the dock hard enough to emit a loud thud. Odessa winced again as her head turned sharply to examine her bottle and make sure it was okay, and her gaze relaxed when her hopes were met. Though they were just made of glass, alcohol bottles were quite durable at times. That was a good thing. Right? Yes. That was definitely a good thing. It had been a long day, to say the least. Not that it took very much to drive the short-haired brunette to alcoholism and being alone - she found an odd level of contentment in intoxicating herself. That was a part of her that had grown as she did, merging in to her soul and taking her over. Now, almost four years after her first drink, Odessa didn't know what she would do if she didn't have access to the life-saving liquid. After a moment of sage-green eyes gazing lazily out to see with her bottle returning to her lips once more, the muffled sound of voices and footsteps caught the attention of the seventeen year old. Head turned, she honed in on the creators of said noises - a mother and her small child, maybe four years old. Fuck, the seventeen year old cursed inwardly as she placed her drink on the far side of her, away from the child that was nearing at an alarming rate. Odessa loved children, more than anything, but they were so innocent at that age. It saddened her as she thought, realizing that within only a few years this child's innocence would be long gone. He was about the same age as her brother, too - oh, that hurt! The idea of Gabe losing his innocence to the fright that was this world, the hunger games, the Capitol... She was lucky that Carla wasn't yet too far gone, that there was still some child left in the small seven year old body that was quickly becoming nothing more than a miniature adult as she became more and more aware of the madness around her. She'd always be there for her, though. Odessa made a promise, to herself, to her mother, to Carla, on the day that she was born - never, ever would she abandon her little sister. So she pulled her two long legs out of the water and curled them closer to her body, crossing them and resting her hands between her knees. In an instinctual gesture, the young woman grabbed the bottle of vodka from beside her and took another swig from it before returning her hands to their comfortable spot between her knees. Fuck, they were bony. And now the harassment on herself would begin again. And now she would lose track of time as she did nothing but cross-examine every aspect of herself and drown herself in more liquor. Before she knew it, the child was gone and the bottle in her hand was half empty. "What am I doing with myself?" She questioned as she capped the bottle up. Half a bottle was enough... She needed some for later, right? Right. Letting out a sigh she clambered awkwardly to her feet and began to walk back towards the beach. She was attempting her best sober walk, trying not to stumble around too much. Underage drinking in public: not the best idea. She really didn't need a peacekeeper on her ass. words: 634 notes: title lyrics to pierce the veil. open to any level, i can match up to 400 words on a regular basis.

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[Tango]

Coral Riptide

Noise. Echoing, turbulent noise everywhere. Voices twisting into the wind and whistling between the houses, that low vacant sound of a howl rattling the windows and seeping beneath the doors. It was colder than usual, not unbearable by any standards, but cold, the kind of cold that urges you to tug that jumper a little tighter around your throat and hide your hands in the sleeve of whatever jacket you’re lucky enough to have. It didn’t bother me, it was somewhat soothing, winter’s soft tender kiss.

I’d abandoned the house hours ago, there was little point in lingering beneath the old oak beams in a room of gathering dust and uncomfortable silence. My father was never there, he claimed to work...if that was true surly he’d have worked himself to death. But nobody questioned him, nobody cared. Mother didn’t speak much, not since Reef’s death, she didn’t take pride in the house anymore, didn’t screech like some demented, possessed creature when sand was dragged across the carpets. It just seemed empty, no matter how many bodies filled the spaces between the walls made no difference. It was alright though, I’d never spent much time at home anyway, the outdoors was consoling, it had always been more of a home than this heartless house.

It must have been hours, I’m not entirely sure, I don’t tend to keep count. The sand clung desperately to the familiarity of my footing, its cooling texture tugging at the bare stretch of my feet. I never clothed myself well, no matter what the weather. As long as it wasn’t snowing I wouldn’t freeze. Not if I kept moving, kept active. Instead of wrapping in wools my torso bore a loose fitted blank white canvas while my legs remained exploited under the veil of faded shorts, revealing a preview of the scars that wound themselves around my upper-right thigh.

Surprisingly there wasn’t a lot of movement, not many bodies wandered aimlessly across the shore and the sea seemed to settle in an almost silent state of hypnosis. The waves creeping carefully to vaguely brush the sand’s surface before tumbling back into a rapid retreat. It was nicer this way, when the distant echo of squarks pulsed into the sky and the melody of the dunes rustling in the breeze graced the air, amplified in the calmness. I expected that everyone would be rushing off to eat or to start the new tasks befalling the later afternoon hours and for the most part I was probably right, however something caught my attention, something somewhat entertaining and unusual.

Striking peepers stained valiantly green contently found themselves transfixed on an unbalanced figure...something that caused the corners of my mouth to curl cruelly into a smirk, the amusement scalding itself into the centre of plush, pink lips. Within moments the temptation to approach became far too much to dismiss and hasty feet found themselves gliding effortlessly across the sand, vanquishing the distance in a matter of strides.

“Bit early to be hammering the alcohol isn’t it?”

[ᴋᴀᴛᴇ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,5,true][atrb=width,450,true][bg=384A43] Odessa Porter "speaking" normal text thinking Waves crashed along the shoreline, spreading a cold mist in the the air around and capturing Odessa's soft green gaze as it flickered aimlessly around the beach. The sand, dark and hardening from the winter frosts that were settling in, was almsot barren - the tall young woman had initially caught sight of nothing else on the premises but her. Well, besides two seagullas that gawked and squawked above her head. Shouldn't they have flown away by now like all the rest of the birds did? Did seagulls even do that? Odessa hadn't the slightest clue, she doubted they even tried to teach her that once upon a time. Her thin fingers tightened around the neck of the half empty bottle in her hand as she paced foreward. It was a slow and akward attempt at making progress, at moving. Of course, without a real destination there wasn't really much a point to moving was there? Ah, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered to her in that moment, nothing but continuing to move one foot precariously in front of the other until she was eventually at the other side. And then what? That also didn't really matter, nothing did. "Huh?" The woman questioned, in a distant daze as the fluttering of footsteps approached her at a quickening pace and then, once they stopped, questioned her about her drinking. Defensive, she pulled her bottle tight against her chest, resting between her breasts against the denim jacket she wore buttoned up. Odessa's freckled face turned quickly, leaving her light headed momentarily as she struggled to pull her focus together and pay attention to the girl that had approached her. Loose shirt and shorts - that seemed like the sort of getup that she herself would try to pull on most days. She held back a slight huff of amusement as she settled her gaze on to the newcomer. Letting her left hand lower to fall back at her side, Odessa's eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. "What's it to you?" She questioned, her gaze tentative and her voice groggy. words: 345 notes: sorry about the delay in getting my response in.

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[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Coral Riptide Amusement dripped prominently from the corners of indecisive lips as I took a moment to swallow the hostility, it was always fun when a little confrontation got feisty. Although it was only conversation, most interactions with people became tense when it involved me, it was just natural, something about being judgmental, outspoken and having an incy-wincy mildly volatile temper. Though I didn’t care for other people’s opinions, so those declarations were simply dismissed and forgotten, they weren’t important when they came from nobody of worth. Tasting the salt upon the surface of my lower lip, I’d pause in contemplation, the arch of my right brow raising thoughtfully as I’d scoff a low rumbling laugh from the outskirts of my potentially hazardous tongue. “It’s nothing to me, I couldn’t care less if you drink from dusk till’ dawn.” Shrugging toned shoulders dismissively, a soft step would dismember the distance a little more, bringing my head to tilt coyly as pearly whites permitted themselves a guest appearance from the shielding sheets of protective pink. “I just think it’s a waste to drink alone, don’t you?” Intrusive eyes lifted fleetingly from the sand to assess the partially drunken form before me, there was something quaintly pretty about the girl, but that wasn’t something I was about to linger on for my attentions naturally drifted to plunge into those blurred eyes, seeking a moment of clarity, searching for a sign of pain or guilt, something to give reason to the binging I’d conveniently stumbled upon. After all I’d needed some entertainment, being alone got boring, even for me. But only sometimes. “You know you don’t have to hug the bottle I’m not gunna’ take it from you.” Running an idle hand absently back through the midst of uncut locks, I’d give another effortless shrug, casting my eyes briefly eastward before focusing back on the features of my newest form of amusement.

[ᴋᴀᴛᴇ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,5,true][atrb=width,450,true][bg=384A43] Odessa Porter "speaking" normal text thinking She scoffed slightly, and tucked her shoulders closer to her body as she kept a careful gaze on the young woman. Her blurred gaze bore in to the other girl's green eyes, bright like emeralds in comparison to Odessa's own sage green pair. A spew of slightly darkened scars peeked out from beneath her shorts. That sight made Odessa recoil slightly, and her shoulders shivered as she tore her gaze almost violently away from her. The marks reminded her far too much of her own set, though she was entirely unsure as to how the other girl received hers, and she drank to avoid thinking about things like that. She drank to avoid the thoughts that attacked her head, fighting against her with every little thing she did. They taunted her, told her she wasn't good enough, pushed her to the edge and threatened to tilt her just lightly right over the edge. It's not like they were wrong, anyways; there wasn't one moment she could bring to mind in which she'd actually managed to do something right. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she felt okay; it was long before she even started her alcoholic habits at the ripe age of fourteen. "Better alone than sober," Odessa remarked in return as her grip on the glass between her fingers relaxed, her hand and arm losing the tension that had formed in them. Her teeth, marred a shade of off-white that bothered her to no end but she didn't have the energy to fix, bit softly on the corner of her lips as her gaze fell down to the ground. She couldn't bring herself to just look one way, her gaze was under an absent-minded drunken gaze, constantly moving back and forth between the entire world around her and the woman who had approached her in a very rash manner. "Do you... want some?" She questioned, lowering her gaze and raising it once more when she spoke. An awkward half-smile formed on her face as she looked over at the young woman beside her, and her left hand extended towards her in a half-hearted offering. She was sad and drunk, not rude. Friends were really nice things, when they actually worked out. So she'd try with this girl then, right? Or was it even worth the effort? words: 384 notes: sorry about the delay in getting my response in.

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[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Coral Riptide Perceptive sights shadowed the opposition carefully, chasing the other girl’s gaze with curiosity until those pale, alluring sheets of mint brushed the scarring and swiftly flew off in another direction. It wasn’t offensive and it didn’t hit any nerves, there’d never been any embarrassment about the scars which curled around the width of a finely toned thigh and extended to tarnish the bronzed length of an otherwise spotless ribcage and waist. They were tokens of survival alongside being a constant reminder of a traumatic event. Lavishing her lower lip thoughtfully, a slow thoughtful refreshing breath would be snatched from the cold air and a predominantly passive shrug would roll from sloping shoulders in subtle agreement, “You’ve got some issues huh.” It wasn’t a question, more an upfront statement, after-all Coral had never been the type to be overly considerate for anybodies feelings and that had only grown worse since Reef’s death. Noting the relaxation devouring the other’s figure a slight though subdued smile would creep across pursed lips while a similar motion reflected in her own indifferent posture. It would have been impossible not to notice the evident shiftiness of the drunken girl and it somewhat intrigued the raven haired Riptide, it wasn’t quite uncomfortable and it didn’t seem completely shy, just awkward. In all honesty it was a little cute, although that wouldn’t be admitted openly through the venomous lips of Coral Riptide under the pain of torture. The revival of the girl’s voice however knocked all inner-thoughts aside to conquer the newly empty space with surprise, she’d never expected the other girl to offer up any of her precious cargo, especially after the defensive stance taking over the bitter-sweet elixir when she’d first approached. Raising a speculating brow a moment of hesitation would withhold her step before she’d extend her hand and accept the bottle without further delay, gladly bringing the rim to press against the thickness of her rosy lips and take a gulp of the burning contents, wincing slightly as the sour taste lingered on the back of her unaccustomed tongue. “Thanks” Pausing momentarily she’d take another gulp, the striking core of her unpredictable eyes raising to study the other girl’s features in a moment of questionable admiration; it was hard to tell if it was the drunken antics that amused her or the similarities she caught sight of between herself and the stranger. "So, nobody drinks by themselves on a beach at this time for no reason. What’s fucked up in your life?” Offering back the bottle she’d give a slight tilt of her head, a somewhat cute action for someone known to be un-rationally unreasonable and offensively sarcastic.

[ᴋᴀᴛᴇ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,5,true][atrb=width,450,true][bg=384A43] Odessa Porter "speaking" normal text thinking Blunt enough? The offending girl aside Odessa didn't have much tact in her words, but what had Odessa really been expecting from some random that approached her because she was drinking? The remark made her thin, pale lips purse together, and she held back a scoff. Issues? That didn't even start to touch on whatever it was that was in her head - nightmares, lifelessness, bullshit. Bullshit - that was the perfect word for what she thought of her head. It was the most perfect word. Issues don't even start to cover this, she wanted to say, but no. No whining. No acting like she had it worse than everyone around her - no one liked listening to people who complained. No one - there was solid proof of that in everyone Odessa had even tried to touch the subject on. Be happier, they said. Exercise, get out, do things that make you happy. But how do you do things that make you happy when the closest thing you find to happy is empty? She asked herself that a lot. She asked herself why she always felt so off, but there was never really an explanation to that, either. Her mom (the lovely woman who adopted her and not the fiend that bore her) said it was teenagery things, but she didn't know many other people that hated every aspect of themselves. She knew people with low self-esteem. She also knew toddlers, and her four year old brother seemed to control his temper better than she did. She knew sluts and drunkards, who acted like she did in their own ways. Those ones had baggage, yes. So did she, she supposed. Supposed? No, it haunted her every night. She shuddered as she took the bottle back from the other woman and immediately downed another shot from it. The other girl tilted her head slightly, looking rather relaxed in her actions. Odessa did her best to maintain a relaxed appearance to the other woman, but she had no idea how well that was working. She exhaled and loosened her muscles a little, trying her best to relieve the tension that filled her as her head wandered towards dark areas. "I don't see why I need to tell you that," she returned, aiming not to sound too defensive about it. She was sure it didn't work very well, though, and once again pursed her lips. She wasn't going to tell some random she didn't know about herself, not the intimate details. Those were now demons, meant for only her to know. She was sick of people looking down on her because of them. But she was also sick of keeping it all in. Fuck. "But, if you're really interested," she continued as the alcohol, or maybe just her impulses, decided that was a good idea. She took another gulp and rested the bottle at her side. "I feel... like I should be really happy because now my life is okay and I love my family and I'm not dead. Everyone says that's a good thing. I don't think it is but apparently it is so I'll just go with it..." She lowered her head before shaking it, rather violently, back and forth a few times. More words than she'd meant to spew. Fuck. words: 539 notes: hi

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[Tango]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=CAE1FF] Coral Riptide Raising an already partially arched brow a look of subtle bewilderment dressed her temperamental features, observing the fact she’d seemed to offed the other girl already, or at the least struck a nerve. Indifferent to most things however, the concern quickly faded from the tanned tint of complex cheeks and searching sights idly rolled themselves over the figure in question, mulling over imaginative thoughts birthing themselves into the forefront of her subconscious. After all, it was always somewhat amusing to imagine a past for new acquaintances and take a guess at their lives, their backgrounds, their situations. The usually irritable district four girl could only assume something fucked up had happened, alcohol was almost always the conclusion to some tragic eternally tormenting event, or some unexpected horrific accident... Or sometimes it all came down to demented parents with obsessive or detached personalities, or being the youngest sibling of twelve. All were perfectly plausible and Coral couldn’t help but picture the girl before her in all situations, attempting to secretly decipher what one might suit her the most, what was the most likely. Listening to the ricochet of the girl’s rather velvety voice brought the turmoil of her overreactive thoughts to crash back into reality, drawing her fixation back upon her counter-part with genuine curiosity. The defensive statement was dismissed almost immediately, as if the sound had been unable to reach the selective tuning of her drums and fell uselessly on optionally deaf ears. It was obvious she’d made the other girl uncomfortable, at least mildly, but as always the estranged circumstance of the conversation went ignored and Coral waited patiently for the right response, the reply she knew was melting upon the girl’s tongue, burning the plush heat of her cheeks dying for an escape. When it came, thick, naturally rosy lips twisted together, curving upwards in a satisfactory smile, the sort of discrete, mysterious smile that would perhaps go unnoticed if it wasn’t for the dimples that appeared with the slightest twitch from the corner of her well-defined mouth. “They’re right, it is a good thing to be alive, nothing you can do about being miserable if you’re dead.” Throwing deceptively elegant looking shoulders backwards in a regurgitated shrug that so often haunted her as a compulsive response, she’d toss her sights to the sea, taking a moment of contemplation before narrowed sights swam back to fixate on the girl’s pale, though equally pretty, pools of green. “So why aren’t you really happy then? What’s keeping you in the dark hmm?” There was nothing as interesting as being intrusive when it came to the Riptide girl, it wasn’t often she dedicated any of her ‘precious’ time to conversing with anything or anyone, especially not on a somewhat polite humane level... but something about this girl had her attention, if just for the moment. “Besides you shouldn’t listen to ‘everyone’ nobody knows anything. Not really, they just like to pretend they do cause’ it makes them feel important." notes: hullo