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Post by ruby1 on Feb 11, 2013 0:37:00 GMT -8
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john holden, 907 words, outfit, tried to make it short, i failed [/style][/style] |
[STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align:center;]i must look a sight like this, this flimsy little dress [/style] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,height: 50px;] arianna played around with the untouched plate of salad in front of her as one of the employees of the modeling agency continued to speak. at this rate, she couldn't even repeat the last thirty seconds of this one sided conversation. she didn't know what it was or if she was even being paranoid, but there was just an uneasy feeling in her stomach. she wasn't sure if it was the fact that she was in such a crowded restaurant or the many eyes that were staring at her. she wasn't sure if people were staring because one of her advertising commercials just got big or if it was because she had a bodyguard standing behind her, making her seem more important and famous than she actually was. or maybe it was the fact that her gut was telling her that something was going to go terribly wrong. whatever it was, she just felt the need to get out of here otherwise she was going to be sick. she abruptly stood up, stopping the other girl from continuing on with what she was saying to look at ari. she smiled tentatively at the girl who's name she's forgotten, "oh um... s-sorry. please um... excuse m-m-me while i-i um... head to the w-washrooms." she muttered before turning to jack, "you don't have to c-come with me. i'll be um... quick, i-i promise." she said, her words filled with less stutter than when she was talking to the stranger. and with that she was walking as fast and classy as she could to the girl's bathroom. she pushed past the door and headed straight into the first stall, securely locking the door behind her. she stood in front of the toilet as she heaved unpleasantly. she told herself to take in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly.
she closed her eyes, her nerves decreasing into a slow and steady hum at the back of her head. she was so concentrated on calming the uneasy feeling in her stomach, she barely caught the sound of the washroom door locking. she took one last breath as she recollected herself before opening her stall door before letting out a scream loud enough that she was sure the whole world would hear. her eyes widened in fear as she backed away from the man. she stumbled backwards into the stall she came out from, but he caught her arm before she could make any further movements and pulled her body close to his. "i've got a message for your daddy, and you're going to deliver it for me." she whimpered in fear as she felt something sharp press against her sides, her heart accelerating and her breaths shallow. you would think that she would know how to handle these situations by now. it wasn't the first time she's had a knife pressed against her or even a gun pointed at her head. yet, she still found herself at a complete loss. she was just froze up like she always did every time someone got too close or tried to make conversation with her. all her mind could do was think frantically about jack and how she wished he was here or how she should have let him at least stand in front of the girl's washroom door or something. with his free hand, he grabbed a handful of arianna's blonde hair and pulled down harshly as she cried out in pain, tears springing to her eyes as she was forced to look up at the man. he grinned at her, "i'm going to enjoy this. your dad will pay for what he did."
she cringed from the proximity of the man, trying to back away, but was forced to stay frozen as he pressed the blade closer. "i've been waiting a long time to get back at him. you are the perfect bait." he continued as if this were a normal conversation. she struggled against his hold, but every time she did so, it would only prove to be a waste of efforts because of the grip he had on her hair. "it's cause you're daddy's princess, aren't you?" he asked, flicking his gaze down at her. when she made no move to response, he just yanked her hair even harder. she cried out once more as he exclaimed "aren't you?" she nodded with tears in her eyes, "y-yes." after what seemed like hours to her, she could hear the commotion outside of the washroom door. like people knocking, trying to find the keys or debating whether or not they should just barge it down. for a split second, she could see the panic in the man's eyes, but they were gone just as quickly. "time to go." he said, pulling her by the hair toward the windows. he climbed out the window with his one hand still holding onto a fistful of her hair. "let's go." he said gruffly, yanking once again, but she put up a fight despite the pain as she refused to climb out the window. he eventually had to let go as it was obvious that the door was going to open in a matter of seconds. he gave her a calm look, "don't worry, princess. i'll be back again. and next time, i won't be as gentle." and with his last words spoken, he was gone faster than she could blink as the door swung open.
[STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align: center;]won't you try your very best to save a damsel in distress? [/style] |
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Post by pun2 on Feb 11, 2013 16:15:49 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]I'LL KEEP YOU BY MY SIDE WITH MY SUPERHUMAN MIGHT, KRYPTONITE TAGGED: arianna fairmont WORDS: one one seven eight NOTES yeah, we failed at keeping it short XD Jack had grown complacent. It was an awful thing to admit to – something he knew subconsciously, but didn’t quite have the balls to acknowledge on a conscious or, god forbid, verbal level. He was out in downtown LA with his charge, and he knew that every fibre of his being ought to have been alert for even the slightest hint of danger. And to be fair to him, he’d done everything he ought to do. He’d taken a trip to the restaurant ahead of time to familiarise himself with the entrances and exits. He’d looked at employee records to familiarise himself with who was and was not staff. And he’d done an extensive background check on the completely harmless – if vapid – model agency woman that Arianna had come here to consult with. He’d gone through every process. Ticked every box. Completed every measure, knowing full well that none of it would be of any use to him. It was almost an unusual occurrence (or so it felt) to be out of the house with Arianna Fairmont at all, but he knew enough from previous excursions to feel confident in surmising that she’d be unlikely to leave the table. They’d come into the restaurant, she’d sat down, she’d stay there, then they’d leave, and all of his careful preparation would amount to exactly nothing. And of course, that was a good thing. Jack had grown rather fond of his young client – though he’d never admit that, either – and he wouldn’t in a million years wish anything bad or dangerous to happen to her. But the fact that nothing bad or dangerous ever did happen to or around her had allowed him to let his guard down. All of his attention right now ought to have been on the young woman in front of him, picking unenthusiastically at her salad, and of the surrounding restaurant, but frequently he allowed his guilty mind to wander… drifting idly into thoughts about chores and tasks not yet completed, things he’d have to do later…
She suddenly jerked to her feet in front of him. Jack snapped his focus back onto her, watching her closely while she made her excuses to the agency woman, and then turned quickly to him: “You don’t have to c-come with me. I’ll be um… quick, I-I promise.” Jack began to protest, but didn’t get any further than, “Ms Fairmont, I –” before she was hurrying away from him, darting through the jumble of tables and chairs towards the bathroom. “– don’t know if that’s a good idea.” He finished to himself, under his breath. He knew he ought to escort her wherever she went, especially in public. He ought to walk with her across the restaurant, wait for her outside the bathroom, then walk her back to her table. But she was too quick and jittery, across the room in a flash, and he… well, he’d grown complacent. Nothing would happen to her. Nothing at all. He felt fairly certain that she could walk across a room by herself without getting into any kind of awful situation. Regardless, for a long few seconds, he watched the bathroom door – just in case – until the agency woman sitting across from Arianna’s empty chair gave a low, musical laugh, and broke his concentration. He looked back to her, and she smiled at him, and made some comment about ‘flighty models’ that he only half-listened to. He turned away again, playing convenient deafness to her remark, and made to fix his attention back on the bathroom door –
And that was the exact moment he heard the scream.
Arianna’s scream – he knew the pitch and tone of it, of her voice. Recognised it in some fearful, panicked part of him as very, very bad news. Jack bolted for the bathroom door, pushing his way past empty and occupied chairs alike, weaving between wait staff and customers who still seemed half-confused, or were looking dazedly from one side to the other as if unsure if they’d heard a scream or not. He reached the door, tried the handle – locked – damn it – of course it was locked. The restaurant had fallen almost quiet behind him now, the thrum of chatter dropped low enough that he could hear the dulcet rise and fall of a male voice in the bathroom. A spike of panic drove through Jack’s sternum – he reacted to it helplessly, instinctively, by slamming the flat of his palm against the door and calling her name through the wood: “Arianna!” A moment of frightened weakness, before his training kicked in. He brought his mental map to mind – he knew he had surveyed the bathroom. It had windows. Windows that lead to street level. A split second decision – mental coin toss – should he rush out, round the building, to cover the windows? Or should his focus be getting the door open? He decided on the door. It would take an assailant time to get himself and Arianna out of a window, and if Jack could get the door opened quickly… There was an employee at his elbow, babbling about some kind of master key to get the door open… but Jack inferred from her tone that it would take at least a couple of minutes to get a hold of this magical master key. Minutes which he did not have. The door would have to come down, then.
He backed up a little way, scanning the door, trying to decide on the best point of impact. The best way to open a door is with a front kick, putting your force behind your heel. The best place to kick a door is by the lock, where the wood is weakest. You never use your shoulder unless you’re in an action movie – in Afghanistan, Jack had seen another soldier try and break down a door this way, and the poor sod had dislocated his shoulder. Not just dislocated it, but popped it so far out of his socket that the bone had splintered out through his skin. He had no desire to do that to himself. He kicked the door. Once, twice. On the second kick, his bad knee gave a burst of horrific pain, spasmed, then seized up. He limped towards the weakened door, hit out hard with the heel of his palm on the splintered wood a couple of times until the lock gave and the door swung open. No time to pause, to hesitate for even a second, he was through the door and trying to process the scene as quickly and thoroughly as possible: Arianna, dishevelled and terrified; the open window; nothing else. He went first to the window, stumbling with the effort of putting weight on his locked knee, pushing it open as far as it would go and looked out into the alley way outside. It was empty. Whoever had been here, he’d gotten away very fast indeed. Only then did he turn to Arianna, and ask with a calmness that belied his panic-stricken state, “Are you hurt, Ms Fairmont?” |
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Post by ruby1 on Feb 12, 2013 0:12:45 GMT -8
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john holden, 1262 words, outfit, yes, yes we do. [/style][/style] |
[STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align:center;]i must look a sight like this, this flimsy little dress [/style] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,height: 50px;] it was supposed to be a routine day. she was supposed to just go to the restaurant to meet the woman from the modeling agency. they were only going to be talking about her next photoshoot or ad to sign onto. she'd say she'd think about it and that would be that. jack and her would go home and then probably do some sketching. but she should have known better to trust her instinct than to ignore them. she should have said something to jack the second she felt that something was wrong. she had thought that maybe she was just being paranoid. it wouldn't have been the first time that she thought she was being watched, but when you are a fairmont, you're always under the public eye, so it wasn't really a strange or unusual thing. but today was different. she had been feeling like someone was just intently watching her every movement and it made her nervous. that should have been the first hint for her to say something, but she had been foolish. she should have known that it was better to be safe than sorry and it wasn't like jack was going to blame her for saying something. it would have been better for him to know so he could analyze what she thought first. if he thought that she was right, then everything would have been avoided. if he thought she was wrong, then there was no harm in that. he was better at this job than her. this was what he was trained to do. but if she had said something, he would have immediately done something about it, and arianna would never be here in this situation.
she should have stopped and let jack come with her when he started to speak, but at the moment, all she wanted to do was get a breather. she never thought that anything would happen or that anyone would follow her into the washroom. when she first moved to los angeles, she had thought she left the family drama behind. she never thought it would follow her to where she was now. she understood that her father hired jack because he cared for her safety, just so someone could report back to him what her daughter was doing. she thought it was just part of her father's control issues, his incessant need to know every single detail about her life. and while she wasn't particularly fond with the idea of having a bodyguard following her around, it was better than the three her father had originally wanted her to have. and jack didn't turn out to be so bad. they weren't best friends or anything, but she was getting used to having him around. she actually didn't mind waking up every morning, knowing he would be there. in fact, she was sure she'd be disappointed if he wasn't there. she liked familiar people. she liked people she actually knew, and jack was definitely familiar. he was there everywhere she went. but now it wasn't an annoyance, it was a pleasant company- even if it wasn't exactly his choice to be there or not. now she understood why her father had insisted that she moved here with a bodyguard by her side. he had known that the enemies he made with his job would never leave the fairmont family alone- especially the family princess. but she hadn't understood that until it was too late.
in that split second from her decision to leave the table and the actual standing up abruptly, any thoughts of her safety had been the furthest thing from her mind. she didn't think going to the washroom for a breather would pose any danger. it was just a washroom. nothing would happen. but something did. most of her father's enemies never made time to talk to her or even look at her the way that man had. from the kidnappers to the perverted men in the black alley's, they were really only after one thing. they just wanted to get the job done to send a message- whether it was through violence or through sexual harassment. this was different though. she could see it in the man's eyes that he was not going to just abuse her and lock her in a basement. she could see that he was ready to kill her- after some fun, of course. she knew he would drag it out. he'd torture her to death. she could see it in his eyes. and that scared arianna more than anything. she wanted to get out and never see the man again. pretend it never happened. so you could only imagine the relief that passed through her body when she heard jack's distinct voice calling out her name. in the heat of the moment, with jack kicking at the door, all she could think about was not letting the man win. she couldn't be kidnapped. not again. she was determined to fight until she didn't have to- even if said fighting only consisted of her resisting the man's yank on her blonde locks. her head was screaming in pain from the predicament it was in, but she tried to ignore it the best she could. being kidnapped and tortured to death would have been much worst than this hair pulling. this she could handle. at least for a little while.
however, the second the man released his grip, she could practically feel the way her head hummed melodically in content. but only for a second before she heard the words he spoke to her. she stood frozen, staring at the open window, the words ringing loud in her ears like an echo. a part of her could hear the washroom door swinging open. a part of her registered that jack was instantaneously checking the open window. he would find nothing, she knew. the man was gone before the door gave way. arianna felt like she couldn't breathe. her chest felt heavy and her head felt light. all she could hear were the ringing words "i'll be back". the out of body experience part of her had clearly heard jack as her if she was hurt, and she wanted to respond. she wanted to tell him no, she wasn't. just that she was shaken up, but she just watched as her body stayed standing there, staring at the window, unblinking as her body shivered from the shock and adrenaline rush coursing through her body. she didn't know whether she felt faint or sick like she was going to throw up. maybe a little bit of both. she didn't know. she didn't know how long she just stared at the window without answering jack. it could have only been seconds, maybe even minutes, but it felt like hours for arianna before she finally glanced over at him. she only turned her head slightly to look at him while the rest of her body stayed where it was, her fingers and body still trembling. she opened her mouth to say no. her lips had even formed the words, but her voice was nowhere to be found so she tried again. "n-no." she said shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. "i.... i don't th-think s-so." she didn't know if the stutter was coming from the shock or just her usual awkward speech, but at the moment, it didn't matter to her. she could feel her legs starting to weaken its strength, her knees ready to give out, "i-i-i th-think i-i n-need t-to s-s-sit down."
[STYLE=font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:; font-size: 11px; padding-bottom: -10px; text-align: center;]won't you try your very best to save a damsel in distress? [/style] |
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Post by pun2 on Feb 13, 2013 15:48:31 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;]I'LL KEEP YOU BY MY SIDE WITH MY SUPERHUMAN MIGHT, KRYPTONITE TAGGED: arianna fairmont WORDS: nine five six NOTES this is not a good post, and for that, i apologise. >.< Jack knew as soon as he’d spoken that he’d asked the wrong question. He could see already, he’d known in an instant, that she was not physically hurt. But it was also immediately clear that she was not okay. Perhaps that’s what he should have asked: ‘are you okay, Ms Fairmont?’ But no, that wasn’t right either. The first thing out of his mouth ought to have been: ‘What happened, Ms Fairmont? Who did this, Ms Fairmont?’ Detail about the incident, then practicalities like physical health, then – and only then – was mindless sentiment permitted. Her emotional wellbeing should always be last on Jack’s list. But he looked at her now, shaking like a leaf and staring blankly at the open window, and he wasn’t sure what he ought to be doing at all. His mind temporarily went blank. Some heady cocktail of relief and impotent anger rushed through him, so strong, that he forgot his own name let alone what the correct protocol would be. He was so glad that she was safe, so angry that she might not have been… he could hardly think straight.
“N-no. I… I don’t th-think so. I-I-I th-think I-I n-need t-to s-s-sit down.” She stammered quietly. Jack clocked the slight tremble in her knees, and left his vantage point by the open window and went to her, suddenly worried about her capacity to stand unaided. He hesitated very briefly, then put a stiff steadying hand against her back to lend her balance. As always with Jack, a practical gesture rather than one of warmth or comfort. “Come with me.” He said to her in a level voice. “We’ll find you somewhere to sit.”
By this point, there were people clogging up the space outside the bathroom door, staring in, eyes on stalks. Jack noted with a strange jolt of amusement that the employee had returned with the master key, and was holding it dazedly in the air like a beacon. The restaurant manager had also appeared, staring with mute horror at his splintered door, and Jack – herding Arianna towards the bathroom door – said to him, “I’m taking my client to your office. She’s been assaulted. You’ll need to call the police, and to keep everyone else out of this bathroom until they arrive.” Jack had a certain way about him – perhaps his intimidating size, or controlled expression, or a certain tone of voice he was capable of using – that meant people would listen to him in times of stress or chaos. He was the sort of person that when he said ‘this is what I’m going to do’, nobody argued. The manager did not object to Jack’s instruction, though he muttered something about ‘paying for damages’. Jack said nothing in return. He could arrange that with the man later. Paying for a broken door was the least of his worries. His list of worries was a mile long right now.
His left knee was on fire, the sore muscles still spasming uselessly. His client had been assaulted – the fact of that was awful. The police would have to be involved. Mr Fairmont would have to be informed, and who knew what the consequence would be for Jack then. But worst of all, he had failed. This situation should never have arisen. It would never have arisen, if he’d been competent, if he’d been doing his job… For God’s sake, he only had one thing to do, and he hadn’t done it right. It wasn’t the first time he’d failed. Jack was used to it. He’d failed as a soldier a long time ago. In that same fell swoop, he’d failed as a son. The second his medical discharge had come through, his father had never looked at him the same way again. And even this, this job, this ‘failed soldier occupation’ was something he could not do. He could not even protect this girl, so afraid of risks and danger that she was swaddled in layers of self-protection already… Jack, it seemed, could not be counted on to do anything right.
He kept his hand against Arianna’s back, leading her through the silent restaurant and past the staring faces, to the door labelled ‘staff’. For the first time since he’d begun work for the Fairmont family, his vast array of mentally mapped venues came in handy. He was glad he’d come to this place and scouted it, because he knew now exactly where to go. The manager’s office was past the kitchen and an employee locker room – a small, square room that smelt faintly of old sweat. He took Arianna inside, shutting the door behind them, and indicated to her to sit in the single chair in the room. He briefly debated with himself the pros and cons of just letting her sit, silent, and prepare herself for the barrage of police questions surely to come. He could, surely, find out everything he needed to know from the police later, and spare her the trauma of reliving it again for him. But no, he had to know. It was his duty to know. It was his job – even if he apparently wasn’t so good at it as he’d thought. “Tell me what happened, Arianna.” Her christian name felt strange and blasphemous on his tongue – he didn’t think he’d ever called her that before. In his head sometimes, maybe, but never out loud. To her face. It was more professional to call her ‘Ms. Fairmont’. But Jack couldn’t help but thinking that didn’t matter so much right now – who knew if he’d even still have this job tomorrow? He’d messed up, and she could have been hurt because of it, and he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t trust him anymore. |
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