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Post by JULIO VEGAS on Jan 1, 2014 11:37:07 GMT -6
vegas' mind would not rest at ease and it spelt trouble - nay, it spelt trauma - for the application of the survey. his heart and soul lay raging, treacherous emotions unable to be quelled, thoughts constantly amiss for there was a tell-tale heart thumping away in one of the rucksacks he'd discarded aside earlier, and for that reason vegas found himself unable to relax, even with the fairest natasha von crane for company.
for in a stunning twist in a noble quest to fetch the props from the storeroom for an upcoming production at drama club julio had discovered that most costumes are not designed for someone who is 6'5", lest the lady ones. predictably, he'd ripped something. curse his rippling muscles, the truest damnation with which he committed ultimate sin: a horrible tear in one that felt like a tear in fabric of reality itself.
albeit julio would admit it hadn't seen like an ultimate sin at the time! nay, the act of repairing had been at the back of his mind. instead, he and his companion had moved onto something entirely different because their sole interest had been, in less than heroic terms, dicking around in the storeroom for as long as humanely possible without drawing that much suspicion. and given olly and vegas' reputation in the very club meant they had possessed little time to spare in their debauchery.
yet now drama club was over and the longer julio attempted to stay focused on work, the longer the ripped dress haunted him. truthfully, work was a rarity when he was with natasha but he'd insisted on preserving to begin but he couldn't focus. pen tapping against a notepad impatiently, his mind was still predictably on the costume now shoved on his person when he'd left the storeroom - a second thought, a “justice should probably fix this”. but how did one even fix something like that, especially when he was sure it was one thing needed for the next production?
finally julio caved to what had been haunting him. having started off as boisterous as usual when it had come to the group work he'd slowly grown more distracted. and whilst he'd insisted on sitting on the floor to begin when he gave into his swirling guilt he threw the pad aside in a dramatic gesture, flopping back onto the floor with what felt like the the weight of his eternal guilt.
“may vegas confess to something?” came a meek voice from natasha's dorm room carpet.
@natasha
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Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2014 12:01:45 GMT -6
Natasha was dim but she was not dumb. She lived in a state of bright eyed obliviousness, much like a dog, where everything was dandy and well. So for the past ten minutes, she had, much like a dog might, noticed the growing agitation of Julio. At first, she had put it in the back of her mind. Julio did not get upset over things. He was not that sort of man and so she reasoned that maybe he was more upset over the survey than anything. It was rather droll, but she was doing her best to make the survey as exciting and life altering as a meager survey could be. She'd written down fifty two questions, all ranging from very related to the topic at hand to drastically different with no relation at all. She scribbled down another question, something among the lines of man eating plants and what would you do. Then she crossed a previous question out. Natasha's eyes crossed and she leaned back, growing more bored with the subject at hand. Her gaze shifted to focus on Julio, who was, if she did not know better, practically squirming in his spot. Natasha squinted, giving him a look sort of like a dog that finally suspected something was quite wrong but was working very hard to figure it out. She reached down, grabbing his hand (far larger than her own) and forcefully held it still so he could no longer tap-tap-tap the pen in it. Natasha laid stomach down on the bed, half hanging over it and she looked at Julio with narrowed eyes. He chose to speak then. "Um, yeah," Natasha stated, as if he were an idiot and this were the most obvious response in the world. She let go of his hand, grabbing the pen from it in the process. "What's got you so upset, Julio?"Natasha rolled around until she was upright on the bed, both legs crossed. Her elbows rested on her thighs and she propped her head in her hands, looking at him quite attentively. It was rare to see Julio upset over anything but Natasha imagined it wasn't that different than when Cadence got upset and she'd simply have to do the same things she did when her sister was. Which reminded her to ask the very important question she always asked Cadence, just to get things out of the way. "Do you need someone beat up?"JULIO VEGAS
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Post by JULIO VEGAS on Jan 4, 2014 6:18:47 GMT -6
vegas was momentarily blessed with understanding from the fairest natasha! however, that was a tiny victory in the grand scheme of his eternal sin; it didn't fix the ripped dress in his rucksack nor impending feeling he had doomed a fellow member of drama club. his nervous movements had already caused action from the other. compliant to the force she applied to his hand. he hadn't said a word and she already made a move - something julio put down to a true spiritual connection rather than his obvious discomfort. and while his hand was tense in hers for a few moments once he'd made his retreat onto her carpet julio was otherwise compliant.
“upset?” vegas echoed the word. was it a sufficient description for his feelings? technically. yet personally, he preferred plagued by eternal sorrow or tormented by eternal sin. definitely something with the eternal theme for the weight of his sordid actions felt everlasting, “maybe, maybe. for vegas says that he has committed a grave transgression against the sanctity of all things theatrical.” when was the performance the costume was for again? too soon, anyway, “he thanks that the heroine natasha is kind to him, kind despite his cruel actions against the world, but vegas must assure her little can be done to fix such debauchery.”
for while he was lying on the floor that didn't stop julio meandering around the crux of his distress. for even when he twisted his neck to look up at her on the bed even her expression seemed understanding. but when she asked her second question, he turned away.
“the harsh reality of that noble offer,” eyes focused above him, tone as grandiose as ever, “is that it would be vegas on the end of fairest natasha's wrath.” and once where he'd so blithely let the other handle his hand and confiscate his pen julio then reached out to her with one arm. it was a bit of a blind grasp considering his attention seemed focused on monologuing at the ceiling, “for it is he who has done wrong, for it is he who has to face the consequences of his foolish, ill-thought choice.”
“so perhaps natasha could - nay, should. it would righteous thing to do,“ stopping his pawing at her to push himself up off the dorm room carpet, julio finally lifted himself. crawling towards one of the rucksacks he'd tossed aside so carelessly earlier - oh, how ignorant he'd been - he pulled one over and announced, “behold!” zipping it open, its revelations were only… books.
“wrong one,” a little less dramatic with his clarification he dropped the bag and let its contents spill out before, zipping out its contents it a hurry before repeating, regaining his intensity, “behold!”
and there it was, the ticking heart. it was dress, period style, crumpled from being shoved away haphazardly and with a rather disastrous rip on the seam of one side.
@natasha
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Post by Deleted on Jan 5, 2014 16:07:25 GMT -6
She did not really understand Julio, but then, who did? She adored him and he was probably her secondary soul mate (her sister was and would always be first) but the boy had a few screws loose and sometimes he used very large words together. Not just separately, but together, in one long string of very large and descriptive words that had the effect of making Natasha's eyes cross and her face pinch together as she attempted to make sense of them. Her arms hung limp over the side of the bed and she stared at him, a bit blankly but still relatively concerned. It was a moment until she became aware of him grabbing at her (for her, towards her, at the air in her general direction?) and she comforted him by grabbing his hand with her own. She wrapped her fingers around his palm and held it gingerly, even swaying it through the air. She watched him move. Natasha brought her hands up, tugging the bear themed hoodie she always wore up and over her head. Then her hands hit the floor and she observed him, expecting something very serious and very tragic to be thrown out. He grabbed the rucksack, and perhaps because Julio's dramatics were infectious or because Natasha was arguably just as much of an idiot (depending on who you talk to), Natasha hitched her breath. Her bright eyes went wide and she moved her sleeved hands up to cover her mouth. And he presented books at her. Books. Natasha's expression dropped, as did her head and arms. Thankfully, Julio was not one to disappoint. Except he was. He totally was. For he presented a dress at her and for a moment, Natasha's face lit up. "Oh. My. God."Then it seemed to occur to the girl that he was presenting a dress, a thing made of fabric and cloth and nothing of particular interest, and any astonishment she had was gone. Snap. Like that. Natasha scratched the side of her face and then propped her face up in her hands. "You have a... secret... hobby you wanna talk about...? Like... that's totally cool. I mean, I'm not surprised. It's totally cool so don't feel ashamed!" she said, ignoring two things. The first was the giant rip, which also wasn't a surprise since Natasha was not much of a dress connoisseur. The second was that Julio was part of the drama club and that dress was most likely from there. She stood and moved to him, crouching down to pat his head. "I totally support you and whatever hobbies you have, mmkay?" Natasha smiled brightly, resting her hand on the top of his head. JULIO VEGAS
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Post by JULIO VEGAS on Jan 6, 2014 16:38:55 GMT -6
natasha's initial reaction had been somewhat befitting but only for a few moments; the one following his fake-out, of course, which vegas assured was entirely planned for the purpose of suspense - definitely. her lack of continued shock was a little mystifying to him. when natasha started speaking - seeming hesitant and apparently not for dramatic effect - he found himself a reflection of her earlier befuddlement.
“secret hobby?” once again echoing the other's words now it was filled with genuine confusion rather than needless theatrics. yet julio was not caught off-guard for too long! his recovery made sure to recover to optimum levels of drama, “nay, such participation in vile debauchery could be scarcely referred to as a 'secret hobby'! ‘totally cool’ is never how this mortal blunder could be described.” the slang sounded bizarre in his grandiose tone, let alone with the amount of emphasis he heaved on it, “truly, does natasha candidly think this hero of justice as one who would divulge in mindless destruction so blithely?”
was julio's fall from glory predicted already? she asked him not to feel shame but how could he not when he had doomed the fate of drama club? as expected, he had done wrong and was even unable to get comfort in the hands of his blessed companion; though, admittedly he was taken aback by her own blitheness. all he got was seeming boredom and tacit endorsement of dress vandalism. and her cryptic words were unhelpful, vegas the self-proclaimed hero of justice thought bitterly.
vegas barely noticed her walking over. he'd already returned his attention to the dress in his hands, taking the time to inspect the ripped seams. that seemed not the final extent of its injuries. a careful examination - or julio looking at it with vague despondency - was maybe revealing further problems. caught up in it his concentration meant he was definitely surprised when he felt a hand nestled in his hair. looking back at natasha, he seemed a little affronted at her petting. she gave him support but oh, at what cost, and what was she even supporting? it took a bit for her implications to finally click.
“nay, the fairest natasha is gravely mistaken! vegas assures her that whatever she assumes has little to do with the quandary on justice's hands,” trying to brush off natasha's hand, as well as her assumption, julio lifted himself up off the floor. frankly, the weight of that eternal sin he had going on tended to pull him downwards - as inevitable as the forces of gravity!! - but dare he risk lying on the carpet if further head pats were to happen? not a sacrifice julio was willing to make, especially if his priority was to make further clarification.
and with the dress still in his hands vegas saw little reason not to make his further clarification a practical. thankfully, his arm was one that could fit in the dress with little issue. in through the neck and out at the rip in the side he proclaimed, “for this injury, this fearsome wound it suffers, is a tragic blow struck by vegas himself. an accident, he claims, but that makes no difference in the end.” a regretful sigh. “the woeful laceration along the side is the origin of his guilt. for soon the dress is meant to answer the calls of fate - a performance where it holds center stage - and vegas has desecrated it.” julio removed his arm immediately after, withdrawing it like he'd touched something that burned him, “and he continues to desecrate with his actions! see? there is little hope for the dress and he.”
“vegas may as well turn himself in as a sham.”
@natasha
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