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Post by ashton cole johnson on Sept 13, 2009 21:18:13 GMT -5
Ashton rubbed his fingers at the area near his temples, hoping to god his headache would disappear. He'd had a headache for a couple hours straight now and hed already take five Ibprofen's, but they didnt seem to be working for him. He must have too much of a migraine. Granted his headache could be from not having eaten today or from the lack of sleep last night. Ashton just hadnt been able to sleep, it was a common thing for him and as for food, well he wasnt that hungry. Ashton tended to forget to each, his mind usually elsewhere unless he was high then his body demanded food. Of course he had to be sober right now and his lack of motivation to go down and get some food was getting him no where.
He stood up from the chair he sat in and walked over to his bed plopping down and boucing just lightly from his mattress as he buried his face in his pillow, hiking the soft cushiony sides up around the sides of his head hoping it would help. Instead it only helped in suffocating him so he groaned and rolled his face to the side to get some air.
Fucking hate medicine.. he grumbled to himself as he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He was not going to sit in here, as much as it seemed very inviting. Ashton reached his hand down between his matress and pulled his notebook out. Maybe some fresh air would help. Standing up he straightened his black t-shirt and picked up his cabbie hat that had fallen off when hed plopped onto the bed. Placing it on his head, he pushed his hair out of his face and grabbed a pen, heading out of the door.
Ashton really had no destination in mind, so when he found himself in the Lounge... pretty much empty, he figured it would do. Sitting down on the couch he took in the magazines that were littered on the table in front of him. There were a couple that were open from others that had been there reading them. His fingers curled around the notebook and he bit his lip before giving into the urge to fix them.
Ashton closed the magazines and then stacked them before fanning them nicely out over the center of the coffee table. As he was pulling his hand away his fingers nudged the corner turning one of them just a little bit. He grunted and fixed it pulling back slowly and making sure to have a lot of room so he didnt knock them. After he successfully moved without knocking them he gave a very small satisfied smile to himself and then leaned back lifting his notebook back up.
Ashton had started writing and as he did he forgot about everything else and brought his feet up to rest on the coffee table only to hear a crinking of the paper wrinkling under his shoe. He looked up quicky to see it turned under his foot some and he gave a small noise of frustration before bringing his feet down. Ashton was just about to fix it when he stopped dead, his actions finally setting in. He was mostly over his OCD problem, but it still came back when he least expcted it. And it wasnt really that he was over it, just that it wasnt nearly as bad...it was almost normal things that he obsessed over. This, though, was not cool and to spite his disorder he picked the offending magazine up and dropped it over the other five, hoping to mess it up. Instead it just layed over top of the fanned out magazines at an angle. After staring, studying it a moment, He decided that instead of it looking out of place and off center that it was 'Artsy'. That he could deal with... his mind was accepting that.
Ashton nodded a little to himself and then leaned back again and picked up his notebook as he started to scribble random thoughts and words down again.
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Post by daniel grey on Sept 14, 2009 12:52:14 GMT -5
'Hmmmmm'.
That morning, Danny had awoken amidst a sea of cardboard boxes. Why he was on the floor, he did not know. What the hell he had been doing last night, he had no idea. Why his head was pounding.. Yeah, he had a pretty good idea why that was.
Eyeing the empty bottle of vodka on the floor next to him like it was the bottle's fault, he peeled himself off the floor and groaned at the pain in his back. Yeah, sleeping on the floor was not a good idea. The worst thing, was that he was laid right next to the bed. Why he hadn't bothered crawling into it, he also didn't know.
He tried to remember what the heck it was he had been doing the previous night.
'Oh,' he remembered. 'I was procrastinating'.
He glared at the ring of boxes encircling him, still not having worked up the will to unpack. Only one of the boxes had been opened - the one containing his clothes - and half of them were strewn across the floor. He shrugged, promising himself he'd do it later, washed up, grabbed his skateboard and left his dorm room.
Danny had decided to tackle the 'i dont know where anything is' situation and had then proceeded to skate around the town for an hour or so, memorising where everything was. By the time he was finished, he had discovered the locations of the mall, the park, the mcdonalds and, of course, the nightclubs. Bored, he thought about going back to his dorm to face the boxes. He had nothing better to do.
Deciding to do something extremely constructive with his time, he had cracked open a beer can and skated around the park for another half an hour before deciding that enough was enough and it was time to face The Boxes.
Sighing, he chucked the beer can into a rubbish bin and skated back to the main building of the school, pausing at the door. Where you allowed to skateboard inside? Danny doubted it, but what the heck. Peering inside the door, he couldn't really see anyone, so he shoved the door open and just skated on through. As he was going past, he noticed something in the corner of his eye and frowned. He stopped and rolled backwards a few metres to see what, or who, it was.
There was a guy seated on a couch with his feet resting on the coffee table. The first thing that Danny noticed was the notebook in his hands, and he wondered if the guy liked writing. He did. He wanted to be an author some day.
He was just about to leave, when the guy made some kind of annoyed noise. Raising an eyebrow, he turned back to look at him and watched with slight amusement as he started arranging the magazines, then pausing, then messing them up and then leaving them. Danny laughed quietly under his breath and wondered what the hell he was doing. It looked like some kind of OCDish habit. Either that or he was just being weird.
Danny considered approaching him, but hesitated for two reasons. One, he looked like the kind of guy who liked to be alone - the type of people who love their personal space and tear the heads off anyone who approaches, and two, he looked mightily annoyed. Or in a bad mood. The combination of those two reasons made approaching him seem very intimidating.
He cocked a head to one side and watched him for a moment longer. He interested him. So he wanted to get to know him. Danny liked persuing people. It was kind of a hobbie. Shrugging to himself, he rolled over.
"What's up?" he flashed him a grin. "You look pissed off."
Danny was fully prepared to be ignored or ranted at or insulted or told to piss off.. Or something of the sort. But he didn't really care. He was bored, and didn't want to face The Boxes.
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Post by ashton cole johnson on Sept 14, 2009 17:52:43 GMT -5
Ashton rarely ever read over what he wrote down, usually just jotting it and turning the page or shutting the notebook. He used to write things all the time, full things like stories, poems, songs... Sadly, though, that was a long time ago and he hadnt been able to do that since then, just settling for the little bits that come out and he was always writing them down. If he didnt have his notebook he wrote them on a napkin, his hand, arm, shoe, anything he could get a hold of. When he actually thought about what he did, he realized how much of a waste it was since he never did anything with it, but it seemed to be something he couldnt rid himself of so he stopped thinking about it.
It wasnt long before the comfortable silence of the room was disrupted... at least the feel of it. He could sense someone watching him and it unnerved him. He hated being watched, he wondered what the hell they were thinking or doing... or both. He didnt look up though. He didnt want to call attention. They might just change their mind and keep going or something. Who knows. He bit his lip, crossing his fingers under the cover of the notebook hoping to all hell whoever it was didnt decide to come in.
Ashton hated people, hated conversing. He never used to be this bad. He used to go to parties all the time and shit, not necessarily to converse but you couldnt go without talking to at least one person and when you were getting high... well it was inevitable. Ashton wasnt exactly the most outgoing guy and most of the time he preferred not conversing. He was pretty much socially retarded and most of what came out of his mouth was taken the wrong way or people just didnt like it. It was fine with him, if people could see that its just the way he was, then he really didnt care if they stuck around.
Ashtons mind seemed to shut off, unable to write anything and his honey colored eyes stared at the page in front of him, but didnt take anything in. All he could do was sit there, very aware of the other persons presence nearby. He had such a problem writing when people were around. Maybe he just got really nervous, though he wouldnt admit to it. People meant possibly seeing his stuff and he was pretty damn self concious about it.
As he stared at the page blankly he could almost hear the other persons breathing. Or rather, imagine it. Heavyish. No no... he wasnt going to think that way. Maybe that was his own breathing. His nose flared a bit as he tried to focuse his thoughts elsewhere. He hated this feeling. Hated how it seemed like time was dragging on forever as he waited to find out what this person was going to do. God just do it already. If they were going to fucking come in or not.. they should do it. He wanted to get this shit done and over with as soon as possible.
Ashton mentally shook his head and tried to turn his focus on something else again. Unfortunately it didnt last long because finally his mental urgings were coming true. Finally the person walked the rest of the way into the room and already the first words out of his mouth bothered him. What the fuck? What did it matter to him? He looked up his facial expression not changing really though his eyes narrowed some, his eyes darkening a bit. Some scrawny skater kid it looked like. As if he had room to call anyone scrawny. He didnt like his hair, it was too long and in his eyes, not that he cared to see the kids eyes but that always bugged him, how people could stand to have their hair in their eyes. It led to eye sight problems... and possible blindness.
On top of that he was grinning at him. Why was he grinning at him? Did he have a sign on him that said, 'bother me?' if so where the fuck was it so he could burn it because seriously! Ashton said nothing merely leaned back some even though the guy wasnt that close, but he hadnt expected him to come over so openly it was just a quick reaction. He raised his brows at him, then glanced down his movement had knocked the table a bit and it knocked a couple of the magazines out of their spot. It was barely even an inch, maybe a few centimeters but he could tell. he rolled his eyes up and grumbled a curseword in his head at the lack of 'Artisitc' awsomeness his work on the megazines had now.
Ashtons eyes moved from the guy to the magazines and he took a deep breath without realizing it, his lips curled in a unhappy look before he tore his gaze away. Seriously he was having some issues today with that and he didnt know why. He instead looked back at the guy. What do you want?' his deep monotonous voice void of anything, except a slight irritated note though it was more detected from the annoyed curl of his lips.
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Post by daniel grey on Sept 14, 2009 19:15:54 GMT -5
There was a long stretch of silence and then... 'What do you want?'.
Ah. Danny smirked, almost tempted to comment on how it was rude to greet people that way, but then decided against it. That would just make him a hypocrite; "you look pissed off" also not being a fantastic way to greet him. When the guy leaned backwards, he quirked an eyebrow and mirrored his movements, also tilting backwards slightly. It was meant to be a '...what?' kind of movement; he hadn't even been that close to the guy. Briefly, he wondered if he had some kind of issue with human contact.
"...Nothing," he replied casually, shrugging. Okay, the guy was definitely in a pissy mood. Maybe he was having a shitty day. Danny could totally relate there. But then he discovered alcohol, the wonderful object which made everything seem so much better than it actually was. For a crazy moment he actually considered offering the guy some kind of booze, but quickly decided against it. Yeah, that probably wouldn't be a cool thing to do. He'd look like some sort of alcoholic.
"You just looked mad. So I came to see if you wanted any company," he shrugged again. This guy did not look like a 'people person' and Danny could seriously see himself getting yelled, or hit at, at this rate.
He took a few steps back for an extra measure so that he wasn't right up in the guys face, and perched on the arm of the couch. The guy had raised his eyebrows and then.. Was looking at something. Danny turned his head and slowly followed his line of vision - ah. Those damn magazines again. This guy had to have OCD. Or he was just some kind of obsessive neat freak.
The temptation to inch his leg forward and nudge the coffee table holding the magazines was extremely great right now. He wondered how the guy would react. It would be obvious that he'd done it on purpose just to piss the guy off, so yeah.. That probably wouldn't end well. Instead, he went for the more subtle 'ohhh-i-totally-didnt-realise-that-this-would-annoy-you' move and leaned forward, rummaging through the magazines and then picking a random one up by the cover, leaving them in a beautiful mess on the table. He dropped the one he had retrieved in his lap and pretended to be interested in it. Danny was more interested in how the guy would react. He made a bet with himself that the guy wouldn't tidy the magazines while he was there, no matter how much it annoyed him. The guy seemed kind of.. dignified?
Danny sat quietly and stared blankly at the first page of the magazine, not really taking in what the hell it was about, more paying attention to the guy seated across from him. He had decided not to be too 'forward' or 'chatty' - if silence was what the guy wanted, then sure. He wasn't looking to make an enemy, he just liked... 'Figuring people out'.
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Post by ashton cole johnson on Sept 17, 2009 2:08:16 GMT -5
Ashton ignored the guys movement when he had leaned back. A lot of the times Ashton did things without realizing it. But really he didnt like his shit intruded upon. especially his quiet, alone time. Ashton finally closed the notebook cleary he wasnt going to get anywhere with it, and tucked it under his leg. He didnt want there to be a chance this kid got the idea to snatch it away and read it. Who knows, people did the weirdest shit really. Ashton didnt even know what was in his notebook so he definitely didnt want some annoying, scrawny, dude on his business who couldnt even get a decent hair cut and maybe eat a hamburger or two. really he didnt know wha this eal was with this guys size was. Cause that was seriously the last thing he should be bitching about to anyone. Then again to ashton it didnt matter. if he didnt like it, he didnt like it regardless of whether he had room to talk on the subject or not.
Ashton gave a bored roll of his eyes. "Clearly it was nothing. It was not anything so much that you had to come in and comment. Thanks so much on wasting valuable air something like that.. he retorted. It wasnt the best come back, but again it wasnt something Ashton was going to dwell on. He wasnt pleased, in fact irritated and he was sure he got that across and that was what mattered. NOt the context of what he said.
Ashton quirked a brow. "Oh really? how thoughtful of you.' his voice laced with dry sarcasm. He seemed to have mastered that even with his monotonous voice. Now wouldnt you think if I had wanted company I would have had company with me. hit was more of a statement then a question. 'But considering I dont, isnt it safe to assume that I dont want it?" he crossed his arms in front of himself. His expression still not changing other then the arch in his brow.
Ashton hated weaknesses and to him his ocd was a weakness. He was not the type to show weaknesses so when this kid decided to mess up his previously organized display of the magazines Ashton tried to ignore it. His eyes had narrowed a bit on the kid, his jaw hardened and he dug his fingers into his arms where they were crossed over his chest fighting the urge to fix the magazines. He really wished he had his pills on him. If he had taken them earlier this wouldnt be a problem, but since he hadnt his need to fix those now messed up magazines, thanks to the annoying douchebag that now sat across from him, was really fucking strong. He licked his lips a bit. He knew that he would later find nail indents in his arms later. Hell it was probably past indents... past bruising... teetering on breaking skin and bleeding a bit for as hard as he was gripping his arms. Thankfully his hands were hidding in the crooks of his arms and the folds of his shirt that he hoped the kid couldnt see how much he was restraining himself.
"Since we've established I dont want company... what are you still doing here?' he managed to get out without it coming through gritted teeth like he knew would have happened if he wasnt focusing so hard to seem unaffected by the magazines.
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Post by daniel grey on Sept 18, 2009 15:21:28 GMT -5
Danny raised and eyebrow and sighed boredly as he watched the guy shove his notebook under his leg. He didn't seriously think he'd be that rude as to steal it, did he? That would just be mean. You just don't read through people's stuff. Sure, he had invaded this guy's personal space bubble (the damn thing must be three miles wide) but stealing something of his would be low.
"I'm not that childish," he said dryly, flicking his eyes to rest on the now-hidden notebook before moving back up to the guy's face (he couldn't be bothered to point).
He blinked slowly at the guy's retort. 'Wasting valuable air'? That was a new one. And it sucked pretty badly as far as comebacks went. I mean.. Come on. Breathing 'wasted' more air than talking, so technically he was 'saving' air! And plus, most of it got breathed out again. The guy's logic behind his comeback was confusing.
"...Right. Wasting air," he frowned. "I'm sure you can come up with something better than that," he smirked slightly. If this guy wanted to insult him, then he could be his guest. It didn't bother him much.
It was clear that this guy was pissed by his presence. Danny wasn't stupid. He liked meeting new people though - no matter how moody they were. This guy certainly wasn't an exception.
'Oh really? how thoughtful of you.'
Danny snorted at this, amused.
"It's no problem!" he gushed in an equally-saracastic girly voice. "I'm so nice, aren't I?!" he grinned widely and then dropped the facade, crossing his arms.
"Not necessarily. Not everyone has friends. You might've been new around here or.. Something," he shrugged. Yep, this guy was definitely anti-friend person. An anti-socialisation person. An anti-person person.
He watched the other guy silently. He looked strained. Danny would have bet his life it had something to do with the unruly magazines, but like he guessed, the guy obviously had too much dignity to go and pretty-fy them while someone was near him. Sighing in frustration, he flopped the magazine he'd been holding back down onto the table. He felt guilty for provoking this guy. It was definitely some kind of OCD, he was sure of it, and now he felt bad.
Mumbling to himself, he leaned forward and pushed them into a pile, picking them up and hitting them against the table so that they were aligned neatly and then left them in a pile in the middle of the table. There. It wasn't exactly a work of art, but a pile was neat, right? Neater than it had been, anyway.
'Hmmmm,' he thought in reply to the guy's last words. Why WAS he still here? He wasn't really sure anymore. Danny knew that just by being here he was pissing the guy off, so maybe he should just go. But.. Eh. He also didn't want to leave. In a way, he felt sorry for this guy. Obviously he didn't like people in general so he couldn't have many friends. He must be lonely, right? Danny shrugged to himself. He couldn't say any of this stuff out loud, and he was having a hard time coming up with a valid reason to tell the guy.
"Uhhh," he frowned and crossed his arms. "You want the truth? I don't know." Smooooth. But it had been between saying that and saying 'you need to loosen up. let's get drunk!'. Needless to say he had chosen to voice the first option.
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