Gravitational Forces View: Recent Entries. View: Archive. View: Friends. View: User Info. You're looking at the latest 8 entries.

September 9th, 2007

Tags: christian, solo Subject: Onwards And Upwards Time: 06:53 pm Current Mood: accomplished

[[Non Journal Entry]] Christian had always been what people called a free spirit, able to move with the wind at the smallest nudge and with very little to worry about. He’d never allowed anyone or anything to tie him down; it was something he’d learned after growing up in a circus environment, which was as changeable as the seasons themselves. But with age came a certain level of maturity and an ability to see past selfish desire to things that mattered – things like his gift or curse, whichever way he chose to view it changed from morning to morning. Christian had decided to pack up and follow the movements of his family and the circus they travelled with, they had to know what this thing was and why he of all people would possess it. He had very little with him, just what he needed to survive and nothing else. Materialism was for the rich and powerful, he was neither and thankful for the fact. He’d had enough money to buy a bus ticket and it was on a late Sunday afternoon that he kissed goodbye to Vegas and said hello to his possible future. One he hoped had more answers than questions.

comments: Leave a comment

July 14th, 2007

Tags: christian, solo Subject: Wise Man Vs The Fool Time: 04:20 pm Current Mood: determined

[[Non Journal Entry]] Time moves at the speed the world does or that’s how it seems, it never lasts long enough when something good happens and always lasts too long when something bad does. But gravity is constant and the laws are simple, however all laws are null and void when you’re Christian Ross and you’re able to reach out and manipulate it, even if it hurts like a bitch in the process. Ever since he lost work in that club and had tons of free time on his hands he’s been pushing himself, probably harder than he ever has in the past. He’s strained past headache and well into migraine and nosebleeds, just to see how far he can go and how much of an influence he can have over the force that surrounds him each and every day. He’s fastened a plate in the air, holding it right where it is and weaving gravity like fine strands until he’s able to pattern it into something that’s strong enough for him to hold onto it and he’s able to just fix the plate where it is. Pushed himself too hard because a sudden explosion of light had ripped through his peripheral and the plate had fallen, smashed into pieces and he’d followed, breathing and shaking hard. Christian is at a point where he understands and knows the lengths he’ll need to go to if he wants to know what he’s capable of and what this power means and why he has it. Nobody else in his family does and there has to be a reason for that. Has to be something it’s good for other than making him feel like somebody’s stuck several hot pokers in his eye sockets. His family has taught him the meaning of hard work and Christian for all his faults is nothing if not determined, he’ll keep pushing even if this thing is a brain tumour and it kills him. He’d rather die with the whole truth than with small snippets he’s managed to glean from within himself and from researching mutations on the net. Better to die a wise man than a fool.

comments: Leave a comment

May 7th, 2007

Tags: christian, interaction, leah Subject: Exchange Of Numbers Time: 02:54 am Current Mood: curious

Christian slicked back his long dark hair for the fifth time in the space of an hour as sweat made it heavy and hurried movements had it draping over his eyes. "Yo, Christian! Need a hand over here!" Christian turned his head and his lips twitched as his fellow bartender and go out and get drunk Buddy, Paul, seemed to be handling a drinks order from six people. Quickly putting cash away in the open register, Christian slid up beside Paul and smirked. "Havin' trouble handling the ladies, Paul?" "Bite me," Paul muttered as he flipped Christian the bird. "Just help me serve already." Christian rolled his eyes and turned them to the three ladies in need of drinks. "And how can I help you this evenin'?" They giggled and leaned forward, all of them firing off drink orders at the rate of knots and it would have taken a lip reader or a miracle worker to get and understand any of that. Christian wasn't a lip reader or a miracle worker but he'd been tending bar a long time so he knew what to expect. "Two Cosmopolitans and one Fuzzy Naval comin' right up." Leah was out on the town and looking for a good time. Dressed to kill in a little black dress that hugged every curve, she grinned at the admiring looks sent her way by men as she passed by on the way toward the bar. Leah was the sexiest thing in the nightclub and it showed in her smile and the sway of her hips as she slowly made her way toward the bar. There was a reason she was taking her time, the place was full and the prospects for a late night snack looked promising. She passed several good looking guys on her way, and made a point of getting their attention, just enough to whet their appetites for more later on. If nothing else she'd get some free drinks out of it. Finally, the young woman made it to the bar and took a seat. She knew that she wouldn't have to wait long for someone to take her order, or to offer to buy her a drink. ( Lady Needs A Drink ) ( Vegas Native Or A Transplant? ) "Have a nice night Christian,” Leah picked up her drink and stood up from the barstool. She took a sip of the Mai-Tai and strutted toward the two tourists, putting an extra sway in her hips just to provide a good show. As she approached the Texans, she glanced over her shoulder and was pleased to see that Christian was still watching. The hybrid gave him a wink and a smile before his attention was taken away from her by new customers. "Hello boys, this could be your lucky night."

comments: Leave a comment

April 11th, 2007

Tags: christian, interaction, oliver Subject: Strangers In The Night Time: 12:14 am Current Mood: surprised

Christian had just finished another nine hour shift at a catering event at one of the local casinos and he was so thankful that it was over and he could take that Godforsaken tie off. He felt a lot like an undertaker in the black and white, not his usual getup that was for damn certain. With tie gone and buttons on the collar popped free the next thing to be let down (literally) was his hair and the cool Las Vegas night caught in the long dark strands, whipping them across his face. Pausing briefly in a dark alley, Christian ducked his head and rummaged through his pockets searching them for the cigarettes he so desperately needed. He tipped his head to one side and eased his hair behind his ear as he found his lighter instead of his cigarettes. Shit. He needed a fucking cigarette. Oliver was pleasantly drunk. Just enough scotch under his belt that he had a nice warm buzz going, but not enough to put him in a bad temper. He'd been doing a little gambling, attending a catered event at one of the casinos, and now he was standing outside on the sidewalk lighting a smoke as the rest of the crowd flowed past him He exhaled nicotine into the air above his head, then stepped just enough out of the foot traffic that he could fumble around for his wallet. He needed to call the hospital again, see if the damn doctors would let him see Jill. He was beginning to feel as if they - or her employers - were keeping him away deliberately, and he wasn't liking it. Idiots. Well, he'd call tomorrow when he was fully sober and see what he could find out. He walked past the open mouth of an alley and saw another man doing a similar rummaging action, and he recognized the look of someone who desperately needed a cigarette. A slight smirk touched his mouth as he withdrew the rest of his own pack from his shirt pocket. "Hey. Heads up," he said, just before lobbing the object in the guy's direction. ( The Ramblings Of A Drunk Man ) "I'm fine. Thank you," Oliver replied in a voice that was strangely formal considering the state he was in. "There's a pay phone just on the corner, I can call a taxi from there. Don't let them run you, whoever they are." He corrected the list he was walking with as he started off down the sidewalk again, leaving a thin trail of cigarette smoke in his wake. First a cab, then sleep. He might call tomorrow, he might not. This, as he'd said, was America, after all, and that meant anything could happen. Anything at all. Christian just leaned back and straightened his back, sliding his hands into the hip pockets of his dark slacks. "Weirdest fucking encounter ever," he muttered as he shook his head. Hopefully Oliver would get his ass home and without a lot of fuss. Turning on his heel, Christian wandered back into the alley. His fingers coaxed that packet of cigarette into his hand and this time he didn't even have to think very hard when using his ability. Guess it was just one of those nights. Christian lit a cigarette and he just wandered home, taking his time and smoking his cigarette.

comments: Leave a comment

February 17th, 2007

Tags: christian, journal entry Subject: That Time Of Day Time: 07:00 pm Current Mood: contemplative

[[Journal Entry]] They say Vegas is the City of Sin, where drunk people get married and everybody’s a winner. What they don’t say is that if you’re not careful the city can eat you alive and leave nothing left. Call me a cynic but I’ve seen the underbelly of this town; hell, I’m knee deep in the water and rapidly sinking so I know what it’s like to be glamoured. That’s what Vegas does, it glamour’s you until it’s too late and there isn’t any way you’re getting out alive or with dignity intact. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out but until that day comes around I’m the steady pay check to the biggest, hungriest loan shark in town. Everybody’s got their addictions; be them gambling, alcohol, sex or some girl or guy depending on your preference and some like to believe that they’re in control but truth of the matter is once you’re an addict – you’re in for life. Mine was and is gambling, mom says I should get myself some help but here’s the root of my problem: I don’t think I need it. See, I’ve got this gift and if I can make it work just right then all my monetary worries are over. Question is: will something else step in to fill the void? Seems problems are commonplace and no problem is ever the same but everybody has them. I should probably worry more than I do but all that does is turn your hair white, give you ulcers, and has you waking up every morning dreading the day. Don’t know about you but I want to enjoy my life, not spend every waking second worrying about what’s coming next. Figure I only have so long on this rock called Earth and might as well make the most of it. If it means I ruffle feathers or stand out for all the wrong reasons then so be it. A liar and a performer I may be but I’m never going to tow a line I never signed up to walk in the first place. Life is for living and I plan on doing just that, provided I live past thirty because let’s face it; I’m not Vegas’ favourite person. My luck will change because at the end of the day that’s the beauty of Vegas: anything can happen.

comments: Leave a comment

February 10th, 2007

Tags: christian, solo Subject: Taking Back What Is Owed Time: 09:10 pm Current Mood: sore

[[Non Journal Entry]] There was the taste of copper rushing down his throat and then forced up by a blow to stomach to splatter across the midnight black of leather that somehow still managed to glisten in spite of the world fading into monochrome colour. “Gee …and here I thought I still had another day before the likes of you came a’ knocking on my door.” Smartass remarks aside, Christian was having one hell of a morning. Hand in long lengths of dark hair resulted in the broad expanse of shoulders meeting with the already crumbling plaster. Christian really ought to talk to his landlord about getting that fixed; maybe later when he wasn’t getting the shit kicked out of him. “Christian,” A velvet rich voice purred as one step and then two brought into view a taller man with dark hair and an equally dark if not darker reputation. His mother had called him a fool for getting involved with the likes of him but Christian liked to make his own mistakes and boy, did he make mistakes. “Samuel,” Christian greeted with a flash of red against previously white enamel. “Always good to see you.” He licked his lip and twitched an eyebrow in direction of the monster that dwarfed him by three, “You wanna call your boy off me so I can play the good and gracious host?” “You have what I want? What you owe? Or have we forgotten?” Christian just shook his head one slow movement at a time. “Never, Samuel. What kind of man do you take me for?” Samuel merely lifted an eyebrow. Fair point, Christian’s lips tugged and he nodded to a bag. “I got it, alright? Just like you ordered.” Samuel stepped away and walked to open the zip of the bag and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. “You must be getting better, Christian.” The younger man shrugged and casually gestured. “A boy’s got a right to his surprises.” “Indeed,” Samuel murmured before nodding to the man. When that grip loosened, Christian slumped and rubbed at his neck slow and easy. Jesus. He was going to have bruises for weeks. “Gee thanks, I was beginnin’ to think I’d forgotten what air tasted like.” Samuel tsk’ed, “You’d better watch that lip, Christian. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.” Christian had a retort, right there on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better and he just bit it back and swallowed it away. It was going to give him indigestion that much he knew for certain. “You still owe me…” “I know,” Christian muttered quietly and forcibly. Samuel walked over, gripped Christian’s chin in his hand lightly but not too lightly, hard enough to hold him steady, the young man was a slippery little thing. “You keep paying and no one and by no one I mean you gets hurt. Do we have an understanding?” “Yes, we have an understanding.” It seemed redundant to answer but Christian knew Samuel expected one anyways. “Good boy.” Samuel patted Christian’s cheek and then took his leave of him. Christian sagged away from the wall and mouthed a few unpleasantries in the other man’s wake. One of these days he was going to make Samuel pay - for making his life a misery and taking more than what was owed. For now, he couldn’t do anything but wait and for that, Christian was willing to be patient.

comments: Leave a comment

February 6th, 2007

Tags: christian, grace, interaction Subject: Clap Your Hands Time: 10:08 pm Current Mood: chipper

Christian should have been drinking or indulging in some other form of debauchery but as it was he was staring out of the window at what appeared to be the weirdest fucking weather he’d ever seen since coming to Vegas. Snow in the Nevada desert, what the fuck? Seriously, what the hell was going? Yeah, global warming was on the increase but Christian had hoped he had another couple years before the world came to an end. “Another round, Benny. In light of the weather outside and that this might well be our last day on planet Earth.” Benny just looked at Christian. “You drink any more and your liver’s gonna need replacing long before the end of the world.” Christian rolled his eyes and lifted the cigarette clasped in his fingers to his lips. “If anything’s gonna kill me it’ll be the cancer eating my lungs. ‘Nother round before I dry up over here.” Benny just shook his head with an affectionate smile before getting Christian another drink. Grace hated snow. Detested it. Cold, wet, slippery, exactly the weather she'd come to Nevada to avoid. Exactly the weather a vampire with a fresh bullet wound in her stomach didn't need, too. Nursing a whiskey, she cursed under her breath as the injury twinged under a protective layer of bandages. Goddamn cops. Maybe she should crawl off home, get some more sleep. With Heaven's Peak shut down until further notice, she had the time she needed to heal and there was no place she needed to be. But when she looked out the window and saw the dreaded white stuff still falling from the sky, she just scowled and remained where she was. Might as well be inside instead of out there. She slapped her pockets, looking for her smokes, then took another drink. Coming up with the pack, she put one in her mouth only to find that her fucking lighter had gone missing. Christ, what next, locusts? ( Do You Believe In Fairies? ) ( Acrobatics And Flexibility ) He caught on a few seconds later and his smile showed it as much. "I'll see you around, Grace but I gotta say, I think I like Tink better." He was teasing, clearly. Christian took his leave of her but before he'd gotten too far he turned and whistled sharply, "Heads up." He flicked his wrist, sending his lighter through the air before he murmured with a wink, "Never know when you might be in need of it next." Flashing her a smile complete with teeth, Christian turned on his heel and slipped out into the fucking awful weather. Grace caught the lighter one handed, dropped it into the pocket of her jacket. Well. That was interesting. Interesting and...not bad to look at. For a human. For a pixie. Ugh, she had to go out in that. The vampire trudged towards the door reluctantly, then made her way outside. She'd hole up with some painkillers and DVDs, wait out the storm in the comfortable warmth of her hotel room. She really couldn't wait until that white crap melted.

comments: Leave a comment

February 5th, 2007

Tags: christian, solo Subject: One Step Forward -- Two Steps Back Time: 12:52 am Current Mood: working

[[Non Journal Entry]] He was pushing himself too hard, far too hard. Stretching both mind and power to the limits until his head felt three sizes too big and he was beginning to see black spots in place of colour and detail. Just a little longer. Just a little more. He had to try, see how far he could go and just how much he could affect. How was he ever meant to learn about his power if he didn't test it out? God ...his head, his vision, everything was swimming in front of him. No, he wasn't going to quit - not when he was so close. Just a little longer, another minute ...just one minute. Only Christian didn't make that minute as his head seemed to explode and his entire body folded, knees catching his weight. "Fuck..." The word was hissed out between the miniscule gaps of Christian's teeth and his frustration expressed in the childlike slap of his hand on the carpeted floor. The book he'd chosen to levitate and hold in place clattered against the small table he'd been stretching to lift by changing the push and pull on it by unseen forces. Both items warranted a dark angry glare from Christian. Perhaps he was sulking but ...he'd tried so hard and he hadn't been able to do any more than what he could already. It was frustrating and aggravating in equal measure. He needed to get this right, if he didn't then he'd lose everything and that? That just was not acceptable. Now with a throbbing headache, Christian found himself a packet of cigarettes only to make a disgruntled noise as trust his luck: empty. "Jesus Christ..." If his mother had been around that comment would have earned him a slap around the head, she'd always been protective of the Lord Saviour's name, even if Christian hadn't. Christian attempted to make a basket with the cigarette packet but his aim was shit and the packet fell somewhere down the side of his couch. Eh, he'd worry about that later. First things first, he'd buy himself some cigarettes to ease the dull thud in the entire space of his skull and then he'd buy enough painkillers to put most drug dealers out of business.

comments: Leave a comment

Gravitational Forces View: Recent Entries. View: Archive. View: Friends. View: User Info. You're looking at the latest 8 entries.