welcome 2 the mad h o u s e ll de'wittbeacaters, ISO ;; OPEN THREAD

[Carmen De'Wittbeacater]

welcome to the
M A D H O U S E
well, I never heard it before, but it sounds uncommon nonsense

" Your wearing more leather than a French dominatrix whore " If it had been anyone else to come out and address that to the likes of Carmen De'Wittbeacater they would have been eating century old wood by now. They would have been face first to floor or head first into the nearest wall before they knew what happened and she like always would show no remorse for it. As if it would be their fault for having made the massive misjudgement in thinking they would get away with it. You didnt get away with things like that with her most people where smart enough to know this, they knew that they didnt get away with a smile they got a golden glass stare and nothing more and that was on a good day, what could she say? But you knew better than to speak your mind when it was in direct reference to her in some way. Anyone else would have been in pain right now. They would not have gotten away with such a blatant personal comment, let alone something that was as outrageous as that but then not alot of people had the articulate nature to throw out sentences such as that where they not her brother. Orion was outrageous and he like the social butt monkey he was loved it, ate it up. He was the original exhibitionist that could charm the pants of a crowd and did. Though thinking of it now she was sure there would be a small amount of trouble in the later since his shocking addition of a girlfriend to his life. It wasnt that Carmen didnt like Jax, very much so the opposite she took her as a refreshing breath of not so sickeningly social climbing air. It was nice to see something attatched to her brothers arm that deserved to be there, despite the chance of pain and hurt on either side, relationships something she was still very much so jaded on. No of the women, the blonde or brunette glossy haired upper east side princess's that had one goal, having the De'Witt name added somewhere to their own. Jacqueline De'Angelo was possibly the most perfect match for her brother, everyone had thought so for such a very long time, the shocking part however was her brother agreeing. Tilting her dark brown eyes towards him she let them draw in, her dark lashes hooding them perfectly as she glared at him. " Like you can talk boy george, i think your one glitter eye shadow away from stumbling out of a closet " She let slip right off her silver spiked tongue as she reached forward and patted at the chiseled side of his face. It was odd to think of him within a relationship. Not that she was going to say anything aloud, if it was something she was not it was a meddler. She didnt put her feet in others peoples buisness she had far enough dramas of her own on a daily basis to have to deal with other peoples divine maddness and idiocy. Running a hand through her dark locks as she surveryed her outfit. Granted he possibly had a point, but she like always had not really put a ton of thought into her outfit. She had pulled various articles of clothing off her floor and onto her slender body and left her dorm room. Praise for credit cards and the lack of caring. The credit card was essential for survival around this school, it allowed you to buy the labels that made it impossible to step foot fashion wrong and the lack of caring made you not give a fuck even if you did. The black skinny leg jeans where a staple for her, and something she had only now just managed to wrangle back from Orion now that he was taking to borrowing Jackies things. The black leather boots that she had on came mid thigh and where flat on the bottom thankfully, at her full height she already towered over most of the students, she didnt always need heels to point that out. To finish off the look she wore a simple black t-shirt and leather jacket made in a blazer style with suede lapels and lanvin necklace at her throat, again black. She wasnt sure what she was supposed to be moarning but it sure as hell looked like she should have been. And perhaps in an odd way thanks to the last few mental relapses when she had snuck out of a certain ex boyfriends room late at night or in the early hours of the morning only just dodging her brother, she was. She was moarning alright, her sanity was very much it seemed dead.

As a light laugh filled the air black painted nails came up and lightly smacked at her hand dismissing it and pushing it away playfully. Rolling his eyes he ignored her jab at him. Oh like that wasnt one he hadnt heard before. Granted he would always give her credit for being far more humerous with the way she phrased things than the rest it was still a typical and easy target. Something really that he should have pulled her up on but she was, he could see, not quite herself, not full anyway. This thought probably would have scared other people, that this, the black clad dragon girl infront of them with the forked tongue and glass stare wasnt quite as bad as she normally was but it was Carmen and if there was one person beside her " bumchums " that could handle her it was him." Keep your claws to yourself ice cow " He would not force her, they didnt do that. She didnt question him on why he and jax where together now, she hadnt pushed him before that to get to this stage, she hadnt probed for questions ever it wasnt their style. This was their style. The type that to outsiders would for all intensive purposes look like they where fighting and about to tear the others throat out, you know your ever loving sibling comraderie. He would blame their twisted family for this, their use of throwing barbs and insults at each other across tables and cell phones, this however was like an adapted form of making fun of where they had come from, for the two of them this was their version of family time. He didnt want to admit he hadnt seen her much lately. He didnt want to think about it because of what that normally meant. It meant she was drinking, and partying it meant that she was avoiding him because he read her well, it meant that she was avoiding something that she was stuck and a little tormented ... well more than they normally where. And yet again he didnt push her on it. They where just not like that, they were not your normally push until break people. They where the type of people the more you pushed them the closer they closed up or turned away from you. And while things had changed for him slightly as of late, they hadnt changed immensly and for that he was grateful. Maybe if they had been this drastic change then it would have scared him more. Would have given him something to fear, but it wasnt like that. When things had changed between him and Jackie it had just become, easier. More comfortable, and an introduction back to what they had been before things had gotten hard. And he wasnt about to admit that he didnt look at girls any more. That he hadnt noticed when the blonde with the skirt that was three inches to short had walked in, he had. What he could admit was however that while he appreciated the view, he didnt care about it. Jackie had become his type, and if there was one thing he had known for a long time there where not alot of girls out there like her. Maybe it was a bad thing maybe it was a wierd thing but he had picked someone that was so unique, so different, that he couldnt have found her in anyone else, and that was something he liked. And that was enough mush for his mental thoughts today." Its Queen bitch to you relationship boy and i love you too mmmmm wah " To that he turned his face to her and watched as she pouted her lips and make kissy noises at him, to which he could do nothing else but laugh.

" Dont be jealous just because i have someone to share my bed with and you block of cement is still cold " He laughed at the last comment because he was supposed to be acting like he didnt know. Like he didnt have ears and didnt see and hear all the shit that was going down. That he hadnt seen her walking down the hall when he had been sneaking in. Something that was actually alot more comfortable to do now that he had a girlfriend he had to admit. But he had seen her, as had some of his friends only to deliver the information back to him. Yet again however and for this he hated he couldnt push her on. If she wanted to sleep around then she was free to it, he off all people could not cast judgement on that one. Teasing her now that he was in a relationship was rich though and he knew it was a touchy spot. It was tricky because he could end up having it turned around on him and like always he should have known better. " ........Share? after all your fucking notches im amazed you still have a bed to offer jax " He had been asking for it, really he had. Granted she as of late was having a few more notches to her own bed but it didnt matter how much he played the part of a perfect little emo boy toy he had been CCA's resident manwhore for a very long time and he had been stupid to try and turn it around on her and claim that she was the ice queen with the cold bed. Yes her bed was cold ..... but only because it was easier to leave when she stayed in theirs. She let out a grin and a laugh only to be returned by his as she let her eyes roam over the room. Watching as students filed into the hall all fevered with gossip and rumours and noise, moving to tables around their own almost all of them glancing a quick sideways glance as the two black clad De'Wittbeacaters seated at a twelve person table. Typical of them. Glancing up one end of the large wooden bench style pew he was seated at and then down to the other end he raised a brow and finally let his eyes rest on her, where she sat ass on the table feet in the spot right next to were he sat. " Is there any particular reason we had to have such a h u g e table or do you just get a kick out of not letting people sit here " The minute that these words left his mouth he knew better. Ofcourse she would get a kick out of something like that, who was he kidding. She was the type of girl who got her kicks out of verbally castrating the male population of Cedar Creek Academy, sitting at the largest tabke in the lunch hall was a piece of cake for her. Sugar entertainment. A throaty laugh slightly surprised sounding broke through his train of thought and he looked up to where she was perhced on her seat, Fucking volture she was. " Do you really have to ask that? Come on Ri, your in love not incompetant lets not start acting like a dim witt, looking like one works for you but acting like it could get on peoples nerves " She said with a slight upturn of the corners of her lips. She had a snake smile, beware and have fun all at the same time maybe she was the ice queen that people said she was, maybe that was what he loved about her, maybe it was what made them different perhaps it was what was sad and wonderful all at the same time who knew. They where freaks it was just them. They had been uncool before being uncool had become cool. " ............. Oh come here i think you have something ...... oh never mind its just the stick up your ass"

[Jacqueline De'Angelo]

It was a strange yet welcomed feeling, the feeling that only occurred when life took a break from taking a heaping dump on everything only to remind you of why you even bothered to wake up for another painstaking day of it. This pessimistic form of thinking usually wasn't experienced by the likes of a particular young woman. In fact, it was more likely that her boyfriend would say something along those lines, except more cryptic or twisted. No, for a girl like Jacqueline De'Angelo, life was just a series of experiences that were all intended with reason. An optimist to the core, she liked to believe that the bad was necessary in order to have the good. However, even she had to admit that life recently was just simpler than it had been for a long time, and she was the happiest she had been for a long time. Cliche as it sounded, a man was the primary source of her current state of elation; she couldn't deny it if she tried. She smiled more, laughed more -- it was more than obvious that she was getting laid, but that's another story -- she was genuinely happy. Now, she'd be the last person to say that her beau had morphed into a completely different person to be with her. On the contrary, he was still the same Orion De'Wittbeacater that all the ladies swooned over and tried to figure out. The only difference now was his ability to accept that what existed between them was/is very real, and he was willing to do something about it. That fact alone wasn't going to stop his flirtatious nature or those observant eyes that probably spotted that leggy blonde to one side of the room. Still, Jax knew that in the end of the day, Ri came to her room at night; he was hers. That's what mattered most to her. Besides, brunettes had more fun in her opinion.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to conclude that Jax had ventured to the dining hall for her daily health fix, the one venue where she frequented for a meal whenever she was too lazy to cook for herself, which was often. She hadn't come here to feed herself, however, she came because she learned via text message that her boyfriend was here with his sister. An amusing combination at best, Jax couldn't remain distant from the scene of the De'Wittbeacater siblings in the same setting; it didn't happen often enough for her liking. So, the spirited young woman prepared a meal for herself and for Ri--any excuse to cook for him was fine in her book--and she found herself in the hall with a nicely packed boxed lunch. It was probably the most domestic thing she's done for him, but nothing done by a De'Angelo was classified as normal, and her meal was no exception. As she approached the table, she took her time, overhearing the playful banter that was so uniquely theirs. She tried to join in on occasion, joining forces with Carmen to tease RI, but in the end of the day, she couldn't keep up with such sharp tongues. She usually ended up the observer to such events; it was better than any match-up she'd ever seen. As she watched them, she often wondered if they ever harbored the same thought at the same time. Then, she quickly dismissed the thought as silly; they weren't twins afterall. Just as Ri suggested that his sister had a stick up her ass, Jax took that as her cue to announce her arrival to the table and hence the conversation. She smiled and set the prepared lunch on the table before inviting herself to a seat. "Ri, be nice, or your bed might be just as cold tonight."

She attempted a look, that threatening look that said 'I mean it', but her stare failed miserably. Honestly, the amount of effort it took on her part to get him to crawl into bed with her, she wasn't about to deny him such permission and punish herself in the process. Life in that aspect was far too good to give up, and the ludicrousness of the idea made her laugh. She flashed him a smile and kissed his cheek before turning her attention to Carmen. "Hey! I haven't seen much of you since vacation. How's things? Is the monkey still clinging to your back like some desperate leech? Oh, I made lunch for us by the way. Ri told me you were here, but if you don't want any that's fine. It's Japanese bento, but I made you sushi, since I wasn't sure how adventurous your palette wants to be today." Jax was always so full of smiles. It was an interesting contrast to see her seated beside two figures clad only in black, especially since the only black on her person were her shoes and belt. She'd chosen a cream-colored vintage long skirt, which she wore as a short dress and belted at the waist. With her short stature and petite figure, she pulled off strange fashion choices like this. For security, she put on a pair of mustard-colored leggings; last thing she needed was her ass to be all over the place--that was Ri's property now. "Ri, on the other hand, is open to try anything, right babe?" At this suggestion, she placed her hand on his knee and subtly inched it up his thigh. It was just one of many things she enjoyed doing simply because she could.

[Charlotte Bronte]

The sky had opened up and swallowed Charlotte, and didn’t even spit out her tastier alter ego Charlie B. In reality, it wasn’t the sky that had opened up and eaten her, it was her nightmares. The female had dreamt of a vicious monster, the product of some sci-fi channel original movie, and even though the ludicrous plotline was nothing to fear, she had reincarnated the foe in her subconscious and it ate her. It was one thing to wake up after an hour of sleep completely frightened that life had ceased under the product of a half mechanical, half alien but all disgusting sort of monster, but it was another to wake up under those conditions too afraid to even leave her bed. Her heart, at once healthy but wearing from the strain of the cocktailed prescripted medication and also from the brutal attack she had on her immune system as well as the heart by booze and cigarettes. It thundered a fiery storm dangerously close to some sort of heart attack, almost threatening with an early onset of stroke, and ached to break through the ribcage that contained it so neatly in her body. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t your heart have acted similar under the situation, if you were as the young Bronte and suffered from night terrors? If it wasn’t for the racing of her heart, she would have been able to recover her breath, but screaming silently has a funny way of taking that away. What was worse to deal with: the night terror or the effect? That was always open to a relative debate, but few even knew that Bronte suffered of such things.

In the end, her body was wearing the signs of her night time battle with surreal and reality. Firstly, let’s count the hours that she had been awake: sixty four and counting. No sooner was she to finally sleeping, than she was of getting a sex change operation. Though at this point, she might have welcomed the extra equipment in the event of the operation just to have something to play with as she passed the slow moving minutes of her insomnia. The average human couldn’t handle being awake for that long, much less Charlotte who had already began to deteriorate, and it was showing. Think of it as a zombie, they don’t smell of death first, but they don’t show the signs of life either. First was her hair, normally wavy and full of a mind of its own, lay flat and deflated as if the effort to naturally curl was too much. Second was her skin tone, already paled like used paper it had successfully managed to match a sickly tone and fade the pink in her cheeks and lips. To counteract, she had applied lipsticks and yet the color didn’t take. All the lipsticks had done was create a faded waxy crust on the outlines of the contours to the fleshy lips as she had sucked and bit off the substance as a nervous twitch. Combine these appearance flaws with her usual outfit of wrinkled, faded or inside-out t-shirt, a pair of ripped, stained or burrowed jeans, and a pair of black converse shoes that were never tied, and she looked too much of a slob to function. Not that she could really tell you what she was wearing, she barely knew. She was vaguely aware that her color scheme as monochromatic, and not in a way as the two little post-goth borderline emo heterosexualites were a few chairs away from her at the dining room table who were decked out in more black than Marilyn Manson, but in a faded TV sitcom from the 50s sort of way: charcoal gray sweatshirt with a white t-shift something underneath and faded blue jeans. In fact, the pair contrasted emensly the third party to their group who had decided that the more color the better when dressing possibly already preparing to offset the doom and gloom of the other two.

She hadn’t seen them before in her life, which wasn’t saying so much since she was currently on downers which had an annoying affect of making her memory short term and rather absent. This left decision making skills to be unfocused and wavering. She knew she had a decision to make but couldn’t remember the choices. It was her decision making skills, which other than her inability to hold food down due to the drugs and her insomnia, was why she had been sitting at the table vacantly staring out the window and not repeatedly shifting her hand between her food and mouth. That is, if she had gotten food in the first place. The female had wandered around the dining hall, standing in line for food for a few minutes only to get to the head of it and feel the weight of the decision buckling under pressure and she would exit. She had done this twice before giving up and picking an empty spot at random, which as she was now was three or so seats away from the two depressing and angry people and the bright and shiny girl. The decision, as it comes to be the center of her attention, was to scoot over and join the threesome, possibly introduce herself and meet new people, or as she had overheard a few snide remarks avoid the threesome and not give strangers a reason talk about her later on. In fact, it was their fault, as far as she was concerned, as they had taken up an entire twelve seat table for only a quarter of the possible occupancy to in fact be occupied, but mostly it was her fault for not being half as fun as she normally was. Charlotte looked over at the threesome again, assessing that at least all of them were something to drool over, minus the boy with man-liner as that always creeped her out, and figuring that if all else failed she wouldn’t have the mental capacity to remember an embarrassing situation anyways.

The female leaned forward, extended out her right hand and knocked twice on the wood separating the group from herself. “I’m sorry, but that smells good,” she said inclining her head to the side indicating the box. She didn’t want any, nor was she asking for some, but rather the smell had awakened some sort of memory of Brooklyn, where she was from, and that she had to acknowledge it. She retreated and ran a hand through her hair, hoping that her eyes were not rimmed with angry red capillaries while biting her lip and looking thoughtful. It had the sort of smell that would have made her hungry but she couldn’t pin it. It was something Asian and mysterious. It was definitely a mix of Brooklyn and Chinatown in her memories. After a few seconds, Charlie looked up from the table fixing a glance to all three and looked away, “Sorry, again, I just wanted to share that, uh, thought,” she spoke closing her eyes as she concentrated on her thought, even though she lost it mid way. Pathetically, the female flashed shy smile and reflectively took out her cell phone to scan through the contacts list to bail her out of her social awkwardness.