*/ THAT AIN'T NOTHIN' [[josephine]] Mar 9, 2011 20:18:18 GMT -5
Post by AINSLEY MARIAH HARRIS on Mar 9, 2011 20:18:18 GMT -5
the wings that you burn
turn to ashes, my dear
turn to ashes, my dear
Ainsley was justifiably surprised when the bouncer hardly even looked at her ID and the bouncer's action had made all of Ainsley's efforts to get that ID seem over exaggerated, naive even. She could have shown him a piece of hot pink construction paper with only a smiley face sticker and a wad of gum attached to it and he probably would have let her pass. Or at least, that was the impression that Ainsley got from his more-than-slightly bored look and lazy stance. He was large, of course, and probably could have been threatening if it weren't for the rose tattooed on his inner wrist, as if the man had thought it would make him look tough. To Ainsley's slightly burnt out brain, it just looked pathetic. It was hilariously reminiscent of Frank's tattoo from Rocky Horror, but the fact of the matter was that it still fell short of the owner's original intentions for it. Unless his intentions were to look like a pussy. But of course, Ainsley couldn't judge people and she didn't. She merely observed, though she rarely drew any kind of specific conclusion. Besides, the man had let her into the club, despite the fact that her face still hadn't quite lost the chubbiness of childhood and twenty-one year olds rarely dyed their hair blue. When she thought about it, Rose Tattoo was doing her quite a favour, risking his own job--presumably--for it. With a shake of her bright blue curls, Ainsley flounced--that was truly the only word for it--past the bouncer and into the club. She wasn't even going to pretend that the techno music tearing a hole in the atmosphere wasn't even her style of music. Anything was her kind of music, especially if she could get lost in it because that was what Ainsley was really good at, wasn't it? Getting lost. Literally, she couldn't follow a GPS to save her life and directions always fell on deaf ears. Abstractly? Ainsley loved getting lost. In the music, in the riots of so many of the peace protests she visited, in the drugs--or more specifically the Adderall she had just bought from a girl in her English class. Everyone knew that Ainsley was a first class addict, but that didn't stop them from helping her get lost and Ainsley relished that fact. Anyone who could guide her further into decadence was a hero by her standards.
Ainsley didn't even stop by the bar for a shot; she just headed straight for the writhing, twisting mass in the immediate center of the dance floor. Ainsley was not an outskirts-of-the-chaos kind of girl. She was either the cause of it, in the middle of it or unaware of it. Always and without exception. And just like she always did, once she reached the very center, Ainsley threw her head back, eyes closed and let the music and amphetamines lift her into a sort of daze, even though she was aware of every movement around her and every beat of the music as if it all belonged to her. Every time she opened her eyes, the world was a whirling mass around her, blurry and slightly dizzy, but it didn't matter. It seemed that that made her just so much more aware of, well, everything. Her contacts felt gummy and old in her eyes, but with a twist of her thoughts, she was thinking about the music again. This was a place she could get lost in, and the thing was, no one would care. She was just another result of society, another big oopsie-daisy! that could be gotten rid of with a shrug of one's shoulders. And how better to get lost than to have no one else care? She dug into her pocket for a few more capsules of Adderall and came up with the last of it. Only three. But, God, how she wanted it. She wanted everything, come to think of it. It had been hours since she'd last slammed heroin, but she could forget that for just a second, despite the fact that just the vague memory of it had reminded her body that it was sick without the substance. She shook, thought not violently. Yet. Soon, though, but how soon was the question. That was always the question, though, wasn't it?
TAG - josephine&&gabby
WORDS - 721
LYRICS - only ashes something coporate
MUSE - fine
NOTES - enjoyy~
CREDITS - cazi made everything. i have ligers. seriously. i. have. ligers.