. call me clever - open

[keru austin;;]

call me cumdumpster.
call me a cunt.
call me clever.
is that still ok?

Cigarettes, alcohol, sweat. The scents overwhelmed Keru as she entered the dark night club - comforting her in a familiar way. Club life...no matter how young she was, from the time she was sixteen until now, she had always been a bit of a club girl. And now that she was actually old enough to get into clubs - though she still wasn't able to legally drink, that had never stopped her - she frequented them on her days off work. Whether she ended up heading off to clubs to work or just for pleasure depended on her mood, and she most definitely was not in the mood to strip right now. Hell, she didn't think she'd physically be able to dance on a pole at the moment. Drunk was one thing - and trust me, she often stripped while drunk - but when she mixed the drinks she usually consumed before work and her heroin addiction? While that was an amazing - not to mention risky, dangerous - high, apparently 'stumbling around' wasn't considered stripping. So, for the moment, she was just here for pleasure.

"Vodka...straight up, hold the ice."

Keru's voice was steady - apathetic, well practiced - as she ordered her drink, eyes drifting from the familiar face of the bartender - who was willingly getting her drink, despite her age - to the clubbers that were attempting to dance on the club floor - grinding, swaying, even stumbling to the rocking music, the overwhelming bass lines. She had no desire to join the dancers; instead, she simply took a seat on one of the bar stools, her back facing the bar and the tender, her attention on the dance floor. After crossing one slim leg over the other, Keru leaned back against the bar, her elbows propped in a mildly uncomfortable position.

The thing about the damn bar stools at the local clubs was that they were extremely awkward to sit on while wearing a skirt - that is, if your intentions aren't to flash everyone in the damn club. And Keru...well, she wasn't that much of a slut. At least not for free. With the skirt she was wearing - gray, black, and white plaid, - school girl style - which reached no more than about six or seven inches from her waist - and her heels - white pumps, which gave her an additional three inches - just crossing her legs barely kept everything hidden. But as soon as that glass of vodka - which the bar tender shortly slid across the counter to her - was downed in one swift movement, showing too much skin was the last of her worries. For once - the first time in the last two weeks or so - Keru had actually been able to support her drug habits, having stepped up to doing two or more tricks a night and stripping three times - which she hated. So, she had enough heaven dust to last for, what, two more hits?It was no doubt she was high off her ass now, and the vodka she was adding wasn't helping things. And, believe me, Keru was enjoying her drugged state like no other. In fact, a content smirk had settled over her lips, masking her dull, numbed face with a faux-gleeful expression.

Keru turned in her seat, breaking what seemed like an intent gaze only to tap the clear glass in a signal for the bar tender to refill it with straight vodka once more. She flashed a light smile in the tender's direction before cradeling her drink in her hands, this time savoring the harsh, almost burning liquid by taking a controlled sip. I give myself an hour, tops, before I pass out...better make this amusing - worth while - huh?' With that thought, Keru took another sip of her drink, sighing lightly at the burning sensation as it slipped down her throat. Fuck, tonight would be interesting...right?

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[Tarou Daisuke]

Apparel && Accessories

How did things go from being nice and sugar coated, to fucked up down and all around? It only took a month to get that way and things never got back on track. Tarou couldn't help but blame Damien. Especially after what happened between him and Reina. Sleeping with his own half sister. Damien was such an idiot, but that's what he got for making drunken advances on Tarou's girlfriend. If she could be called that at all. It was never quite clear what they were. She could've thought of him as gay for all he knew. Whatever they had though.. He was still shook up over how it ended. Or rather the lack of an ending it had.

No matter how many times he tried to forget everything he couldn't. The night he met Reina played over and over in his head, cringing everytime Damien walked in and yelled out Hey fucker. Damien was the fucker.. and he still hadn't found it in himself to forgive him, no matter how close they were. Years of friendship circling the drain over something as stupid as a one night stand. It was so messed up.

Tarou really didn't take real interest in anything when he walked into the rank bar. Not the smells, the sounds, nor the people. It as all just background stuff to him. He was lost in his own world, and he came here to get even deeper. Or to maybe finally drown out Reina once and for all. He was tired of being her slave, eventhough she had fled the scene of her crime a long time ago. Nearly three months ago to be exact. Three months without a word from Damien either. That in all honesty was the hard part. Being without a real friend to talk to. It just did something to a person's mind. Messed them up to where they didn't know which way was up. Social interaction was a must in a humans life to maintain a normal balance. Well no wonder Tarou was all out of whack.

The thumping bass pouring out of the speakers was white noise to him, and the smell of sweat, cigarette smoke and booze was faint, if there at all. He seemed to be in a daze, but not the type you would get if it was drug induced. No, it was just a self induced mental haze. Even when a rather large man yelled at him for bumping into him he didn't yell back, or even acknowledge him for that matter. He simply made his way to the bar and found a seat beside a seemingly extroverted woman. Her extravagent hair dye and her clothes put her out as different, but that was all that Tarou really noticed. He didn't notice the way she sat in her stool, or what she was drinking. He was usually a very attentive person, always picking out the small details, but again, there was that haze that left out everything but remorse and sadness. [ooc - someone slap him already xD his sadness is annoying]

"Vodka and Redbull." His voice was monotone as he ordered his drink. Hopefully the bartender wouldn't take too long because he wanted his drink now, and he wanted them to keep on coming. All of a sudden the tapping of a glass against the bar caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes and turned to face her. "Do you mind?" This time his tone was venomous and tight. Little things like that annoyed him. It was like nails on a chalkboard. And plus the way she looked at the tender when he refilled her drink didn't help. The little smile she shot him was disgusting and on another note, she looked a little to young to be in a bar, but he never judged on ages. When she took a sip of her drink he turned back toward his own and took a long drink, testing the acidic mix on his tongue, before swallowing. The alcohol warmed his throat on the way down, and a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Maybe this would do the trick. Maybe this would wash away everything. And just maybe when he woke up in the morning he wouldn't remember who damien and Reina were. Oh the joy it would bring him.

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[keru austin;;]

call me a cunt.
is that still ok?

Keru's senses were truly hazed over; she barely noticed the dark haired male as he took a seat next to her. The pink haired damsel was too focused on the mess of dancers, bodies tangled with one another, the constant rhythm of the blaring music that perfectly drowned the atmosphere around her. The male's voice, as he ordered a drink, momentarily broke her trance; she dared to take her attention shortly off the mass infront of her only to look at him. Was he attractive? Or an ugly piece of shit? Right now, even a dog would look fuckable, with all the shit Keru was on. Because of her lack of a sexual preference now - or lack of visual perception, at that - Keru turned her attention away from the male and back on the crowd and her drink, sipping as she watched the dancers squirm like jelly fish, or so it all appeared to her.

And then, sharp words. No matter how high Keru was, she still had enough sense in her head to know when a comment was directed at her. 'Do you mind?' Now this popped Keru back into attention. The pink haired teen whirled a little faster than she should've, blinking back the nausea and taking another drink - downing her second glass of vodka - before speaking her own bitter words. "Do you have a fucking problem, doll?" Call Keru a bitch and it'd be true, especially while under the influence. Under normal circumstances, Keru was level-headed - barely - enough to realize that it was more profitable to direct her violent tendencies towards those of the same sex, rather than at males. She was the kind of girl who sucked up to get favors - of any kind, use your imagination - from the boys she knew in her life and was actually pleasant around them, but on the contrary, was a complete and utter thunder cunt to any girls seemed to piss her off...or were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this guy? He ruined her high, spoiled her good mood. And would she spare him from her attitude just because of the little something hanging between his legs? No fucking way; this boy was going down.

Keru stood - she was extremely wobbly, though she pulled it off with an ounce of grace - and downed her shot of vodka, turning so that she her arms were leaned against the bar, her eyes watching the tender. She slammed the empty glass down on the bar counter - though not hard enough to break it, or so she hoped; Keru didn't have as much...coordination as she wished she did at the moment - and sent a glare, her lips turned up in a sharp smirk, at the dark haired male next to her. And then, ever-so lightly, she tapped the top of her glass. "Derek, love," She started, waving down the bartender. "Top me off again, dear." Her voice was sugar coated, sweet - everything Keru wasn't. And, as soon as her drink was refilled - something the barkeep would certainly have to reconsider shortly; she was getting quite typsy - Keru flashed him a seductive smirk, running her tongue over her rouge painted lips before lifting the now full glass of vodka to her lips.

The pink haired lass remained standing, her eyes staring, eyelashes fluttering in the asian male's direction. This was how Keru did things; it was obvious that the male was in a pissy - to say the least - mood, so why shouldn't Keru exploit that? The teenager ran a slim finger over the rim of her glass, tracing it, her eyes still locked on the upset male. "So, what's up your ass, love?" She asked, her voice mildly raspy - seductive, that of a chain smoker - and sweeter than it should be - fake. Keru, only momentarily taking her eyes off the male, slung her hand bag onto the bar counter next to her drink and, after digging around for a minute, pulled out a red and white pack of Marlboro reds and a plain, white Bic lighter. She slid a fag out of the cardboard pack and, without a moment's hesitation, lit up. She blew the first drag's smoke out her nose but, the after inhaling the second breath of deadly poison, she couldn't help but blow it simply in the male's direction. After such was done, Keru simply allowed the slim cigarette dangle between her index and middle fingers and, with her head cocked delicately off to the side, sent a light smile - smirk - in the male's direction. Oh, tonight would be just a blast.

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[Tarou Daisuke]

It was obvious that the girl sitting beside him was high off her ass. And the way she smelled told the whole story. Noe cigarettes were fine with Tarou, but anything else was disgusting, repugnent. How could a person lose themselves in shit someone probably made in a tiny kitchen of an apartment? But there was more than just drugs tampering with her mind apparently. The way she downed her drinks had to be taking some kind of affect. Good or bad, but probably the latter.

It all became obvious when she slid off the barstool and stood beside him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as she wobbled slightly. It would've been hilarious if she had fallen. Tarou would've gotten a kick out of that one. Sliding his epty glass to the side he leaned on one arm and watched the teen order yet another drink. His eyes roamed her body as she was turned to the side. He took in the profile of her face and shrugged his shoulders. She wasn't his type, but she didn't know that. Maybe he would a little fun with her, before finally leaving. it would get his mind of other more unpleasant things, that was for sure.

"So, what's up your ass, love?"

Her voice wasn't seductive in the least bit. She sounded like a cheap whore who emptied a carton of cigarettes a night. He arched a brow and leaned forward trying to get in her face. "I could ask you the same question." He tried to make his voice sound as sarcastic as possible, but it came out weighted down and sour, like usual. He pulled his head back and frowned. How could he be thinking about the past when he was sitting next to a bitch who needed a lesson in manners? Well then again Tarou didn't exactly have the best manners in the world either.

When she stuck a fresh cigarette between her lips he could only smile. Maybe she would share, especially the way she was flaunting it about by blowing smoke in his face. "Why thank you.." He said as he took the cigarette and took a long and deep drag on it. No doubt that she was be angry, probably furious at him for taking her cancer stick. Maybe she would get her fun after all.

[keru austin;;]

call me a cunt.
is that still ok?

Keru watched as the male allowed a smirk to lift to his lips at her wobbling; if she believed that that was the only time she was going to almost fall down, she would have reprimanded him. But no, this was only the beginning. With a light sigh, the pink haired teen lifted the glass of vodka to her lips once more, this time downing it. Despite the momentary amusement brought on by the male next to her, the club in general was boring Keru to death. There was no way she's want to spend the rest of amazing evening stuck listening to some guy bitch and moan and watching swingers attempt to dance. And once her glass was empty, Keru refrained from slamming it back down against the counter; not only was she worried about having the tender get on her case about mistreating the glasses, she wasn't sure she could slam the glass down without breaking it this time. She was past being able to keep control over the amount of strength, or lack of, she exerted. She didn't even bother waving the tender over to refill her drink; she'd go a couple rounds without. After all, she wasn't sure how much more mistreatment her body could handle in a night and, despite her stupid decision to mix narcotics, she wasn't about to test the limits of her mortality.

'I could ask you the same question.' Keru allowed her smirk to widen a touch as she parted her lips to make a slight comeback. Of course, that failed; before she had a chance to speak, her cigarette was plucked right out of her hand. Keru's eyes simply dropped to her now empty hand - it took a minute for her to comprehend exactly what had just happened. A noticeable frown masked her lips as she pouted about the temporary loss of her cigarette; it was hard enough for her to afford an occasional pack. And, while she would have contemplated giving him one in the first place, it was another thing for him to just take it from between her fingers. Still pouting, Keru opened her lips to speak. "Didn't your mother teach you not to take what's not yours?" The frown was still clear on her face, though it lightened a touch as she leaned over to him, snatching what was rightfully hers from between his lips mid-drag. "You should know better." After eyeing the cigarette as if she could catch something from sharing it - which was more for show than anything; it wasn't like she was the most germaphobic person around...hell, she had no right to even bat an eye at the thought of just sharing a cigarette. A cigarette that was smoked for only a minute by a stranger was nothing compared to the things she put in her mouth on a daily basis. If anyone should be worried about catching something, it would be him - Keru lifted the cigarette to her lips, taking a deep, much needed drag. And once again, she blew the smoke right in his face.

After she was satisfied with regaining her cancer stick, Keru clumsly turned on her heels, taking a wobbling step towards her bar stool, and attempted to sit down. Of course, she missed. The pink haired damsel went down like a rock, her hands groping for the bar counter just when it was too late. Keru collapsed to the floor in a heap, hitting the ground hard. Had she not had the cigarette placed tightly between her lips, the female would've most possibly screamed, but instead, she simply inhaled too much smoke. The teen broke into a coughing fit, attempting to clear the toxic smoke from her lungs before even trying to stand back up. Her cigarette laid, burning, on the bar's floor, which Keru noticed only after her coughing had settled down. "Fuck," she muttered in a hoarse voice as her fingers reached clumsly for her cigarette, which she quickly grasped desperately. Keru managed to move her legs around so that she wasn't sprawled out on the floor with her legs open, eventually pushing herself into a kneeling position. She sat on her ankles and her shoes, pouting as she attempted to figure out what the easiest way to get up without falling would be. Nothing came to mind; her head was spinning, out of focuse - too jumbled to produce anything useful. So, instead of even trying to rise, she simply sat on the dirty floor, frowning.

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[Tarou Daisuke]

Tarou let out a small chuckle as the teen made a spetical of checking her cigarette for 'cooties'. Though he doubted that she still believed in such childish germs. With her looks she had probably encountered more cooties than Tarou would like to guess at. He rolled his eyes as she blew smoke back into his face, but the reclaiming of her cigarette was a short lived victory. Tarou knew she wasn't too steady on her feet, but what happened next was just hilarious, though it looked painful for both her pride and her trashed body. He watched as she fell to the ground, and the whole scene played out dramatically. He tried grabbing her arms as she went down but he was too high up, so he ended up staring dumbfounded at her struggling on the cold tile floor before regaining his wits.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was thick with worry for the rebellious teen as he slid off his barstool and kneeled beside her. "That was a nasty spill you took there." A smile tugged at his lips, and brought a squint to his already slanted eyes. Small chuckles were shaking his chest and he had to bite his tongue to keep from fully busting out in laughter. The pouting look on her face priceless and the way she fumbled for the now even dirtier cigarette was comical. Tarou reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an unopened pack. "I'll give you another one if you like." The whole time they sat on the floor, the speakers were still booming and no one had seen Keru fall flat on her ass. The bodies still churned in one mass to the overpowering bass and were blind to their surroundings.

Tarou's hand were placed under her arms and he tried to lift her up, but to get her standing would require some cooperation from her as as well. Only knowing her for about ten minutes, he already guessed that she would make a fit about him touching her, so he braced himself for a rant.

[keru austin;;]

call me a cunt.
is that still ok?

Keru, in her numbed state, simply continued tos tare at her dirtied cigarette. The pout remained noticeable on her lips as she wiped off the butt and filter as best she could, only to decide that the last half-inch of tobacco simply wasn't worth the trouble. Keru silently put the cigarette out on the tile floor, crushing the cherry. Now having lost the one item that held her interest, Keru shifted her gaze to the now crushed cigarette, until she heard her temporary companion's voice, words that were shocking stricken with worry.

'Are you okay?' Keru gazed at Tarou - half in shock, surprise - as the words were spoken and, even more, when he kneeled next to her...and smiled softly. His worry and sympathetic words nearly softened her to him...at least until she heard the soft chuckles. Was this man maing fun of her? That was the only reasonable deduction for Keru to make; after all, she had only known this man for several minutes and had already butted heads with him. Though Keru probably would've given Tarou hell for falling if he had been in her place, the thought of being mocked or laughed at just sounded so unappealing to the pink haired damsel. A deep frown fell over Keru's lips as she started thinking - barely, that is. Did you expect Keru to believe, even in her intoxicated state, that, after she had clashed with this man, everything she had said and done would be forgotten just because he felt, what, sorry for her? This paranoid train of thought put Keru on the defensice and, even when he offered her a new cigarette, which she refrained from verbally declining - after all, she was still nearly out of cigarettes...and this bastard owed her one - she simply shrugged him off.

When Keru felt Taour's hands find a grip under her arms, the pink haired teen fidgeted and absolutely refused to cooperate. There was no way in hell that she's stoop to being helped by a complete stranger, especially one that had previously treated her harshly - not to mention him taking her cigarette, which had started this whole mess in the first place. So, without much hesitation, Keru slapped one of Tarou's hands away, pushing herself several inches awa from him.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

Keru's words were harsh; they served their purpose. After the teen snapped at Tarou, she attempted once more to lift herself - this time, she managed to stand by grabbing the bar stool, and more of less pulling herself up. It was a struggle, but Keru made it...awkwardly. When the teen was safely ack on her bar stool, she turned her complete attention away from Tarou, ignoring his presence. Instead of thanking him for caring even the slightest bit - which she wouldn't have done, even if he had, in fact, helped her up - or even throwing a fit for him touching her without her permission, Keru simply grabbed her nearly empty pack of Marlboro reds out of her purse once more and immediately lit up the last cigarette she had on her. Though it was temoting to blow smoke in her companion's face once more, Keru simply held up her facade of ignoring Tarou as she lifted her half-full glass of vodka to her painted lips, savoring the harsh flavor. Keru was starting to feel dizzy again - no fault but her own, of course - but she didn't let it show. Instead, she kept her face clear and, if anything, she had an oddly faux, proud expression plastered on. After all, she had managed to get up on her own; that itself was a reason for her to be proud of herself.

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