Drugged [Will & Wisti]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Wistful Dream on 29-04-2010, 01:24:47</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>29-04-2010, 01:24:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Thank the heavens school was finally done for the day.<br><br>Isolde Bevan released a sigh of relief as she stood from her desk, collected her things and dumping them into her bag. Granted she was a touch orderly, closing the thick notebook full of physics notes and capping her pens, but once that was done they and the graphing calculator she had on loan from the school were shoved into the messenger bag that served as her 'backpack'. She was the last one in the classroom outside of Mr. Berger, not that he was paying much attention to her but she preferred to linger after the final bell rang rather then join the stampede for the door. Pointless really, they all got to the same place at the same time. And it was much more enjoyable to walk down the enter center row of the neat little lab stations where the class had been working and then past the plain gray desks to the front of the classroom then it would have been to jostle for position. <br><br>"Have a good evening Mr. Berger." she said with a slight smile, the middle aged man didn't even lift his head from his newspaper, just letting out a grunting sound. Isolde inwardly rolled her eyes but slipped out of the classroom with a sense of relief, small though it was. She was no physic major to be sure, the class was a struggle for her but she was taking it for better chances at college and she worked hard. Still Mr. Berger was the son of the superintendent for the district and the boys basketball coach, it was all sports for him, or popularity. Since she wasn't that much of a wiz at math, nor a athlete or popular she didn't rank any notice to him. <br><br>But then it was that way with a lot of people. <br><br>Johnstown Academy was suppose to be one of the best schools within four hours though, and the best high school meant more chances with classes, more chances to be picked up for a good college and to get away from everything her life had been. It had been a stroke of luck for her to get put in the district for this school, to get a placement with a family that wouldn't hear of sending their girl's to public school. Oh no, that was for heathens. Isolde found her lips quirking nearly with laughter as she started down the corridor toward where the stair case started that would lead her down to the first floor, to the music room. She would have it to herself for a precious half an hour before choir showed up, her footsteps picked up speed, hand reaching out to take the stone railing and hold it as she hurried down the steps, humming under her breath the melody of her newest song. <br><br>It hadn't really been a stroke of luck that she had ended up with the Adam's. She had known her current placement about a year and a half ago, the Tyson's, were moving to North Carolina to get away from the New England winter's; after all the Tyson's and Adam's both accepted placements through the Hope Foster Agency and that meant that the kids in their households had to attend monthly 'mixers'. She had heard of the Adam's, of how strict they were, of the nightmare of high expectations, how unhappy most placed there were. But they sent their kids to Johnstown Academy, getting a tax break for it of course, and help from a local church to afford the expense. But their 'standards' wouldn't settle for anything less. When her worker had asked her if she knew of any parents she had heard good things about when the move was about to happen for the Tyson's she supplied the Adam's name, much to Laura's surprise. But Laura was a good worker, and she realized that part of it was the school. So Isolde had been placed with the Adam's. <br><br>Was it any better, she wondered as she reached the bottom of the stairs and went to the left, to the music room, when one purposefully chose hell for a means to an end? <br><br>The blond shrugged to herself and reached the music room, slipping inside silently without anyone noticing her, thankfully. She really didn't like high school sometimes, even at the private school, though at least here everyone had to dress the same. No, she hated it because of the cliques, the popular chart and flow. She had never been popular. It wasn't that she was ugly, quiet to the contrary, Isolde had blond hair which was a mark in her favor already, a honey amber deeper perhaps them the 'popular' color, but still. Her skin was a warm tone, not ivory but not tan, her features neat and pretty nearly, clear skin too. And she wasn't overweight, though perhaps a touch more curvy then the 'ideal'. No, the problem lay within three facts. <br><br>One, she was odd. Odd in that she didn't overly care for fashion, dating, gossip or the like. No, her mind was focused on school, on her papers, on college and 'academia', labeling her neatly as a geek for the most part, a book worm and teacher's pet at times. There was also her eyes, they unsettled almost anyone who took a good look at them. Plum on the outer most part, lightening to surround the pupil and then 'specks' of lavender playing out like flower petals, or lightening strikes really, from the pupil. <br><br>Two, she was a foster kid. Everyone knew that she was one of the Adam's girls and while Olivia, who was actually a cheerleader and popular senior, was also a Adam's girl that didn't mean Isolde was saved any teasing. Olivia worked hard to keep her place, aware of how precious it was, though she was also the darling of the Adam's eye for the most part, and part of keeping her place in the in crowd meant picking on her fellow housemates. Isolde included. Nothing like having no privacy, sometimes the blond felt like she lived in high school twenty four seven. It wasn't fun.<br><br>And three. She didn't care. <br><br>Isolde sank down to sit at the baby grand piano, a smile on her lips as she ran her fingers of the keys, tickling the ivory pieces before she reached into her satchel for the navy notebook that held her scores in it. She flipped it open and shifted on the piano seat, aware dimly of the plush cushion against her upper thighs were her dark grey and pale blue checkered skirt had ridden up. The blond sank into her playing easily, the melody soft and slightly haunting as she tried out the song she had come to her mind the night before while she had been studying some of the books that the Adam's would not have approved of. Or rather that Mark and Lily wouldn't have approved of, Mark's mother, the grandmother of the house who had her own little cottage on the 'estate' had been the one to give them to Isolde. Mark would have probably died if he knew his old mother was a practicing witch and teaching one of his foster daughter's.&nbsp; Poor narrow minded God fearing man. Lily probably would have tried to burn Madame out, but Marianne was wise to her daughter in law's temperament. <br><br>Her voice spilled into the empty air, a sweet, softly husky sound. <br><br><em>"You lived so long, so hard<br>I look and I can tell<br>Your eyes are like a poison twilight<br>You’ve been through hell<br><br>Let me steal you away<br>Replace the fear with dreams<br>Remember my love, my angel<br>There’s more to life then it seems<br><br>Everything you’ve lived<br>All the nightmares<br>All the tears<br>I’ll make your life worth while<br>I’ll erase the memories<br>The fears<br><br>Let me steal you away<br>Kiss you beyond thought<br>Show you the truth, of<br>All that you never sought...."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>07-05-2010, 00:12:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The noise in the hall was a dull roar of a hundred different conversations, as usual, punctuated by the popping and slamming of locker doors and laughter as students relaxed after the school day, gathering their things and leaving.&nbsp; The warmth of late spring had everyone eager to get outside, and the enthusiasm of summer nearing was palpable.&nbsp; Short shorts and thin shoulder straps had replaced fur-lined coats and boots some time ago, and that had only increased the excited tension in the halls.<br><br>A swell in the murmur of students seemed to follow Alastyre as he passed through the middle of the north main hall, bag slung over his broad shoulder.&nbsp; He could feel the other students looking at him, even hear some of what they were saying.&nbsp; He loved it.&nbsp; He was no ordinary student after all, not by a longshot.&nbsp; It wasn't just that he was a successful performing artist, not just that he was well known across more than just his high school.&nbsp; The people at the school stood no chance against him, he knew.&nbsp; He was sidhe, although they didn't know it, and they were only human.&nbsp; They couldn't help but adore him.&nbsp; <br><br>Alastyre was good looking by any standards, sidhe or human or otherwise.&nbsp; His features were a bit more mature than most seniors at Johnstown Academy, but that was to be expected.&nbsp; He was almost 200 years old.&nbsp; Still, he had retained a certain boyish charm over the decades; he thought it most likely the result of avoiding the stress of court life.&nbsp; Alastyre flashed a lopsided grin at a circle of girls talking amongst themselves as they eyed him knowingly, setting them abuzz with whatever rumors and idle thoughts they were exchanging.&nbsp; Life was good, he thought to himself, and not for the first time.<br><br>Walking out of the swung-open doors of the main steps, Alastyre breathed in the fresh air, and reveled in the sunlight.&nbsp; His deep-bronze skin almost seemed to glow darkly in the light, somehow.&nbsp; He wore a tight black t-shirt with ****** across the front in stylized lettering, and most of his well-developed arms were left uncovered.&nbsp; Long, pale blue jeans, torn and worn from hard wear on fast-paced tours, gathered at his ankles, where he wore a pair of sandals in similar condition.&nbsp; He did like to be comfortable after all, and anyway, he still managed to look amazing.&nbsp; He knew he did; everyone told him so.&nbsp; Besides, if he'd wanted to get dressed up everyday, he would never have left the court.<br><br>This was a much better environment for him, Alastyre knew.&nbsp; The academy was bright and open, not like the sithern.&nbsp; And much more laid back.&nbsp; Considering the standards at Johnstown, that was saying something.&nbsp; Not that it affected him so much; any assignments that he couldn't weasel his way out of with his music schedule were easily handled by... those close to him.<br><br><em>Oh hell,</em> he thought suddenly, stopping in his tracks as he crossed the broad, verdant lawn of the school.&nbsp; He had forgotten the report that was due first thing in the morning, for politics.&nbsp; Alastyre grimaced at the thought.&nbsp; Nasty business, politics, and not the thing for him.&nbsp; Still, it had to be done.&nbsp; Only a handful of humans knew of him and his kind, and there was no need to be sloppy.&nbsp; That meant he had to at least <em>seem</em> to be doing the work, or else leave the school.&nbsp; He turned around and headed back inside.<br><br><hr><br>After grabbing the folder from his locker, Alastyre walked briskly down the hallway toward the doors once again.&nbsp; It was much quieter now, with most of the students already gone, and so a sound carried to him.&nbsp; Someone was in the music room, playing piano.&nbsp; And a woodwind?&nbsp; Alastyre slowed his step to listen surreptitiously, smiling.&nbsp; It was nice, truly.&nbsp; And no woodwind; it was a voice.&nbsp; He found himself drawn to it, curious to know who it was, and he walked to the doorway and leaned against the threshold, arms folded.<br><br>Watching her as her fingers danced along the keys, he smiled.&nbsp; His eyes were concentric rings of deep night blue, cobalt, and a silvery inner ring around the pupils, all seeming to melt into one another.&nbsp; They were fixed on her.&nbsp; He knew her, or knew of her.&nbsp; She kept mostly to herself, he had thought, but he couldn't believe he had never heard her play or sing.&nbsp; She was fantastic.&nbsp; But what grabbed him were the words; they flowed so perfectly, he could almost feel himself getting lost in their cadence and rhythm.&nbsp; It was a perfectly written song.&nbsp; Isolde, he thought she was.<br><br>She seemed to drift off, possibly coming to a stopping point, and Alastyre seized on the opportunity.&nbsp; "That was amazing, Isolde.&nbsp; Did you write that yourself?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>07-05-2010, 01:47:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her fingers suddenly hit a wrong key when a voice intruded on her solitude and her head whipped up to glare at the doorway. If it was Olivia to mock her over her music she was not going to be compliant, not now. Only it wasn't her foster sister. It wasn't a girl at all. Her head jerked back to look down at the keyboard cheeks flaming as she tried to understand why in the world Alastyre Byrd would be standing in the doorway of the music room and complimenting her. Her hands dropped from the keys to clench in her lap as she nodded to his question, trying to remember how to breath.<br><br>Alastyre was easily the school hottie, he had it all, wealth, social standing from what the rumors said, a charming personality and the fact that he was beyond handsome. Not to mention the fact that he had the thrill of a 'dangerous' side that seemed to enthrall almost all females on the school grounds. And not just students. Isolde bit her lower lip, glancing back at the male in the doorway before reaching for her music on the piano and gathering it up again to place it back in her folder for it. <br><br>"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was still here." <br><br>The blond pushed back from the piano and moved to the chair that held her discarded bag, attempting to push her folder into it but too flustered to do so. She gave up and just held it against her chest, her body language tense as she finally glanced back at him, biting her lower lip as she tried to think of how to just flee without talking much more. He would likely find her as odd as everyone else and mock her. And she really didn't need him of all people to do that. She got by well enough now, mostly ignored, if Alastyre chose to comment on anything about her at all to anyone in the in crowd she would find life a lot more uncomfortable. <br><br>"I'll leave you the music room if you like, really, usually no one else wants to use it at this time. Um..." she shifted nervously, still standing near that chair, hoping he would come into the room so she could leave or leave so she could have it to herself. She felt so awkward and it showed in the flicker of her unusual violet eyes. "Please...don't mention the music to anyone else. Its sort of...private."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>09-05-2010, 06:06:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alastyre did not move from the doorway.&nbsp; He would have been amused at her reaction, if it hadn't been so unusual.&nbsp; He wasn't used to people fleeing from his presence, or trying to at least, and he titled his head as he eyed her quizzically.&nbsp; Uncrossing his arms, he slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged.&nbsp; <br><br>"No worries.&nbsp; I'll keep it between us, I promise," he said, winking at her and smiling.&nbsp; "And you're totally right about the room, yeah?&nbsp; Everybody's ready to get outside, I'd say."<br><br>He briefly considered stepping inside, but decided against it.&nbsp; The girl was like a deer in headlights, ready to bolt as soon as she saw a chance.&nbsp; And she hadn't answered his question yet.&nbsp; "I don't care to use it, though.&nbsp; It's a little less than I'm used to... but you never told me, did you write that music yourself?&nbsp; I really have to know, it was amazing."<br><br>Alastyre allowed himself a brief appraisal of the girl standing there, so tense and anxious, waiting for an opening to run.&nbsp; She was very beautiful; it was a wonder she wasn't more social.&nbsp; People were fickle and strange in their ways, though.&nbsp; High school was only slightly less politically charged than the sidhe court, he had found to his disappointment.&nbsp; It was actually refreshing to speak to someone outside of the games the children played.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>09-05-2010, 06:16:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The blond glanced at him, wishing he would move out of the doorway, either in or out and just let her be. When he smiled at her though, for a moment she forgot to be cross, to be worried and found her lips twitching in a reply. Then she jerked her head down, away refusing to give into the popular bad boy's charm. If he wanted to flirt and wink at someone he should look for Olivia, not her. <br><br>"Yes, well, when its not winter, then no one wants to go outside." She replied curtly, half wishing he would go outside as well and leave her alone. Her hands felt clammy around her folder and she hugged it to her chest, feeling uncomfortable with his eyes on her. When he pushed her for the answer to his question she did lift her eyes to his face, the odd violet color seeming to flicker for a moment with annoyance, light actual lightning moving through her gaze. <br><br>"You really are pushy aren't you?" A sigh parted her lips as she shifted again, moving back toward the piano for a moment, one hand going down to touch softly at the keys, a touchstone to sooth her. "I did, I write...just for fun. But really, don't you have better things to do then give false compliments to unpopular girls?" There was so much cynical bitterness to her tone, someone old before&nbsp; her years and she didn't look at him now, just at the keys, thinking.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>09-05-2010, 06:30:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Prickly.&nbsp; She was definitely that.&nbsp; It made him want to frown at the idea that she couldn't believe a simple compliment from him, but Alastyre didn't think she wanted his pity.&nbsp; He only shrugged again and sighed.<br><br>"Yeah, that wouldn't be a good use of my time at all.&nbsp; You really think I'm so petty that I would go out of my way to patronize you?&nbsp; I came in here because I heard you singing, and I liked it.&nbsp; It was great, fantastic, amazing.&nbsp; I wanted to know if you wrote it because I'm <em>interested</em> in it.&nbsp; So forgive me for being pushy.&nbsp; It's not like you're being much more pleasant than me, now are you?"<br><br>Alastyre shook his head, upset at himself for getting short with her.&nbsp; He didn't often have to deal with people being so difficult.&nbsp; "I'm sorry.&nbsp; We should start over," he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets as he moved from the door, and walked straight towards her.&nbsp; "You can just leave if you want, or we can try and be nice.&nbsp; It's up to you."&nbsp; Giving her a winning smile, he offered his hand.&nbsp; "I'm Alastyre.&nbsp; It's good to meet you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>09-05-2010, 06:43:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When he spoke she nearly winced, she had been a little offensive and he hadn't given her much reason to be, yet. Isolde sighed inwardly, wondering why and how she had become so jaded about everything in her life. It was easy to see though, given her history, not at that poor guy knew anything about that, hopefully. Still she was surprised when he moved to stand near her, turning to look up at him&nbsp; as he apologized for something she should have been sorry over. But she couldn't blame herself, part of her was still very wary of the popular boy who had suddenly decided to speak to her, after all she has pretty happy with being for the large part ignored. She wasn't mocked or made fun of too much, she just didn't do anything to attract attention. <br><br>And now she had. <br><br>She tucked loose strands of her honey hair behind her ear and lifted the hand from the piano to return the gesture of his offer, shaking hands with him lightly, cheeks burning at the compliment he repeated with more force and expansion. "I'm sorry, I'm rather use to being ignored and liking it." She offered a wry smile in return to his charming one, purposefully ignoring the butterflies that sounded within her at the focus of that dazzling grin. <br><br>"I'm Isolde, but then you know that and of course everyone knows your name." Her sense of dry humor surfaced a bit then, she was never one to play the games of others and she frowned slightly up at him before looking down at the keyboard again, dropping her hand from his and speaking her eyes down, her body language uneasy but curious. "What would being nice entail?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 04:15:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His smile only widened as she tucked her hair behind her ear.&nbsp; She had cute ears.&nbsp; Her hair wasn't bad either; the way it shone in the afternoon light streaming in through the windows was lovely.&nbsp; Her beauty was even more pronounced in contrast to her words, and Alastyre titled his head at her curiously before nodding.&nbsp; "Yes, I do know.&nbsp; It's a very unusual name, and very pretty.&nbsp; Not easy to forget.&nbsp; And yes, people do know me.&nbsp; It comes with the territory."<br><br>"I just want to talk, just a little conversation.&nbsp; That's all," he assured her.&nbsp; She seemed to be implying more, but regardless of anything said behind his back, he hadn't bedded a single human in his considerable lifetime, much less at this school.&nbsp; And he wasn't about to start now.&nbsp; "I'm not playing with you, I promise."&nbsp; Hopefully that would put her more at ease.<br><br>"The song you were singing... it's fantastic, Isolde.&nbsp; I've been looking for something like that."&nbsp; He glanced over toward the old piano, twisting his lips thoughtfully.&nbsp; "I would love to hear more... if you're okay with it."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 04:28:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Isolde really couldn't understand why he was smiling at her, why he was even talking to her let alone in the music room with her after hours when most people had already left the campus. Each minute that ticked by made her more sure that this was a dream somehow conjured up, she must have fallen asleep in Physics, only plausible explanation. His compliment to her name had a slight pink touch her cheeks but she didn't respond to it, after all her name was just the result of a drugged out mother most likely. Nothing special. <br><br>But then people like Alastyre Byrd wouldn't know anything about that. <br><br>"Conversation..." she echoed him, glancing up at him with wariness still in her gaze before shrugging mentally and giving in. After all it was a free country and rather he talk to her here then outside the music room. Outside the music room would draw too much attention and no doubt jealously by others and she had no wish to court anything like that. She rather enjoyed being ignored thank you very much. When he tried to reassure her with the comment about not playing with her she looked at him, really looked at him for a moment and then laughed slightly.<br><br>"So you do realize how this looks then? You, Mr. Popular talking to Miss Nobody? Oh good then, I'll share more of my music if you promise to ignore me outside of this room."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 04:44:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Alastyre's smile faltered just a touch, and he sighed inwardly.&nbsp; She really had built up quite a wall.&nbsp; He only shrugged again as he answered her.&nbsp; "If that's what you want.&nbsp; I sure won't force myself on you, socially or otherwise."&nbsp; He felt honest compassion for the girl.<br><br>"You really do like being ignored, don't you?"&nbsp; It was a foreign concept to him... Alastyre would have withered away in her position.&nbsp; Of course, with an endless number of fans, it wasn't anything he needed to worry about, but he did.&nbsp; There were times that he disliked the inherent vanity of his kind, but it was that kind of thinking that had brought him here.&nbsp; Exchanging one kind of vanity for another.&nbsp; He really did understand these things far too well, much more so than he wanted.&nbsp; "I promise, no one will be breathing down your neck because of me.&nbsp; I think we're probably the only ones still here.&nbsp; Half the teachers are probably gone, even."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 04:50:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She flashed him a wry smile even as she moved to sit on the piano bench, letting her bag thump to the ground as she put her folder back on the reading stand and looked up at him. "That's very reassuring, I guess the age of chivalry isn't dead after all." Isolde looked back at her folder and flipped it open to pull out another score, since he seemed so bent on listening to her stuff she might as well let him hear one of the darker pieces she had written. It was very primal, sexual and something that she had built up in her mind to an extent she guessed in replacement for male interest in her.<br><br>His question earned another quick glance up at him before she looked away again and she shrugged even as her fingers tickled the keys with the deftness of a lover's touch. "I do. I come and go as I please, I don't have to fit in with anyone or talk to people I have no patience for. And its not like being a charity case I could fit with the in crowd unless I was nearly a saint. My foster sister Olivia does that just fine, she's the red headed cheerleader who 'dropped' her books in front of you in the hall three days ago."<br><br>Isolde looked at him again, that same self depreciating smile on her lips. "I bet you thought it was an accident and that you didn't even notice me with her there. Being ignored means I get to be myself with no need to answer to bs, the only way you do that is to be ignored or to be so popular and cool that everyone bows to your whim. Like you. And I have more freedom, no one cares what I do or don't do as long as I show up to class on time and get good grades."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 05:03:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The girl was astute, he had to admit.&nbsp; He wanted to feel sad for her, to offer her sympathy, but she really did seem comfortable with the way things were.&nbsp; She was right, after all; any attention paid to her would ensure resentment and jealousy.&nbsp; And the cheerleader she mentioned, her sister... Alastyre did remember her, and the "accident," such as it had seemed.&nbsp; He knew better, of course, but there was no need to set Isolde straight.&nbsp; Things seemed to be going well enough.<br><br>Alastyre scratched the scruff along his jawline as he listened to her play.&nbsp; It was a deeply sensual melody, both rhythmic and delicate.&nbsp; He had heard many songs in his lifetime, many rough drafts of songs, met and worked with many writers, but there was a quality to the music that Isolde played.&nbsp; It was as if she felt it in her deepest being, and pulled it from there.&nbsp; He nodded faintly, not speaking, eager to hear more and hanging on every note and measure.<br><br>Finally he whispered softly, his brow furrowed as his ice- and night-blue eyes focused squarely on her fingers.&nbsp; "That's... lovely, Isolde.&nbsp; Really lovely," he said, louder, clearing his throat as his eyes traveled back up along her arm to her shoulder.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>12-05-2010, 05:54:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was so easy to loose herself in her music, to just let go of everything else and let the melody pour forth from her and so she just let it, letting it catch her up within it and take her along for the ride as it were. She always felt so bonded to the music, as if it were a living part of her and she let her eyes shut as well, shutting out the classroom, the man standing so close and watching her. None of that mattered, just the music and even without words it spoke, it teased and slipped beneath the skin.<br><br>When he spoke she jerked slightly, coming out of the daze like a druggie coming down off a high, blinking up at him for a moment as he gazed at her. Isolde found her lips twitching in a smile even as she glanced at her music pages and then back at him, a sass in her bright eyes. "You haven't heard anything yet..."<br><br>And then she started to sing, low, husky, yet still so sensually sweet.<br><br><em>"I could be cruel<br>If it would earn your love<br>Damn you, fallen angel<br>You aren’t from above<br><br>The color of your skin<br>The taste of your breath<br>You make me tremble and sweat<br>Strip away till nothing is left<br><br>I drink in your sweet whispers<br>I’ve survived on your lies<br>You are so much more<br>Then a man in my eyes<br><br>Your hands play me<br>All to your whim<br>When you touch me<br>I’d commit any sin<br><br>The first time you saw me you knew<br>You looked and you laughed<br>I cried out to live<br>Daring to deny you the path<br><br>I crave your sweet sorrow<br>A divine sort of bliss<br>Let me show you tomorrow<br>And all you’ll always miss<br><br>Revenge would be mine<br>Sweet as the pain<br>Yet you smiled so sure<br>Offering a haunting refrain...."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 20:02:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her snappy reply made his lips quirk in an amused smile.&nbsp; The last reaction Alastyre had been expecting was smug confidence, not out of her.&nbsp; Maybe a blush, and a choked murmur of thanks or something... she was an interesting girl.&nbsp; Very surprising.<br><br>Crossing his arms, Alastyre settled back against a table and listened.&nbsp; The emphasis of the words seemed to pulse in time with the beat, all drenched in such strong sexual tones.&nbsp; He couldn't have imagined anything more perfect... much less written it himself, he was forced to admit.&nbsp; He could see it, though - punched up a bit, drums backing, it would be perfect.&nbsp; Absolutely <em>perfect.</em>&nbsp; It would be fun, and audiences would eat it up.&nbsp; Smiling, he let his thoughts fall away as he tapped his foot and just listened, and watched.<br><br>She trailed off again, and this time it took Alastyre a bit longer to act.&nbsp; The melody still looped in his mind, the rhythm clung to his thoughts, and he knew what he wanted.&nbsp; "I would like to buy your songs, Isolde.&nbsp; Or hire you.&nbsp; Do you think you could write those consistently?&nbsp; I really need some new material, and I can't tell you how perfect this is."<br><br>Standing from the table, he moved to stand next to her again as she sat at the piano.&nbsp; "No one will have to know anything.&nbsp; I won't even talk to you here anymore, if you're serious about that."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>13-05-2010, 20:51:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He didn't speak when she finished singing, but she didn't let that bother her, perhaps he was shocked at the lyrics or simply didn't like them. After all men sometimes didn't like it when women challenged sexuality and her lyrics had done just that. She knew the song would have shocked her foster parent's to the bone, and well, perhaps that was part of what had fueled its creation, that and pent up sexual longing for something she feared she would never have. Could she even handle someone touching her really? So she poured it into her lyrics. And created something quiet unusual, turning the classical piano into an instrument to produce a melody primal and yet sweet. The perfect combo for a female. <br><br>When Alastyre spoke finally her fingers hit a wrong key and she froze, gazing up at him with wide eyes. What the hell was he talking about? Oh, of course, Mr. Popular was mocking her, to say something like that. <br><br>Her hands reached up and jerked down her music, shoving it back into its folder and standing up with a laugh. "New material? You mean to mock the charity case? Really, I thought you meant it when you said you were interested." She yanked up her bag and tried to move around him, though he seemed a bit surprised at her reaction. "What would someone like you want with my music? You don't even sing with the school's performance club."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>17-06-2010, 19:55:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He raised an eyebrow at the girl, his mouth opening as he thought of what to say.&nbsp; "Erm, no," he replied.&nbsp; "I don't.&nbsp; You... you don't get out much, do you?&nbsp; Nevermind that.&nbsp; I'm a professional musician, Isolde.&nbsp; And I know good material when I hear it."<br><br>Alastyre stepped back a bit, giving her a bit of space.&nbsp; There was no need to spook her now, and that seemed like it might be all too easy to do.&nbsp; Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieved his wallet and thumbed out a folded piece of paper, opening it up and offering it to her.&nbsp; It was a flier, very professional-looking, the paper black and glossy except where the folds had worn it down.&nbsp; A stylized white Asian dragon coiled in a figure eight from top to bottom on the page, surrounding the words.&nbsp; The flier was promoting a band named Serpantis, at a place called Red Rocks amphitheater.&nbsp; The date had long passed.<br><br>"That's me.&nbsp; And my band," he said.&nbsp; "I could show you pictures of the place on my phone, if you want.&nbsp; The view was incredible."<br><br>Alastyre let it sink in on her.&nbsp; She really hadn't known?&nbsp; She truly was a surprising girl.&nbsp; "I assure you, I am very serious.&nbsp; Now what do you say?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>17-06-2010, 20:27:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His complete shocked had caught her off guard, after all if he had just been playing with her wouldn't he have laughed at her by now? And then he handed her a flier, a very nice looking professional one. For a long moment Isolde simply held the glossy piece of paper in her hands, staring at it as if she couldn't believe it before her eyes lifted from the paper to him and then back down again, as if she couldn't believe it. She had heard of the Serpantis, after all a lot of the girls in the school had huge things for the band members and the guys seemed to love the music just as well. Edgy, sexual rock from what she understood. <br><br>But she had never connected it to Mr. Popular, Alastyre. <br><br>Her throat worked as the blond realized just how stupid she looked and she bit her lower lip, her eyes staying on the flier for a long moment because she knew her cheeks were burning and she wasn't sure she could meet his gaze. "I...I'm sorry. I don't get out much, foster parent's wouldn't allow it."<br><br>The words came halting but they came, her pride gone and her wariness momentarily lacking because of her shock. She nearly wanted to cringe when she thought of how rude she had been.&nbsp; The girl handed him back the flier and then fidgeted with her bag nervously for a long moment before finally looking at him again. "If you'll forgive my rudeness I'd say that you could have the song. Its not like anyone else wants it or would hear it." It was as much of a peace offering as she could think of to offer, a wan smile on her lips, rueful. "I promise I'm not normally so jumpy, I'm just use to fading into the background here, with friends its different."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Will</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 23:59:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He let out a laugh in spite of himself, briefly, leaning against the back of a chair and crossing his arms.&nbsp; She had changed her tune quickly.&nbsp; He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed; it might have been refreshing to have someone that didn't fawn over him endlessly... Someone to have an intelligent conversation with.&nbsp; But, Alastyre knew he couldn't really have that.&nbsp; He had given up on that long ago.&nbsp; "Oh no, I can't just take it like that.&nbsp; Legal reasons and all.&nbsp; It's too big a risk.&nbsp; And besides... if you're willing to just hand it over to me, it can't be that special to you.&nbsp; And if that's the case, I can't imagine what you <em>would</em> consider special.&nbsp; No, I want you to write for me."<br><br>Alastyre uncrossed his arms and shrugged, sighing.&nbsp; "This really is a big opportunity.&nbsp; You could make a lot of money; I run pretty much the whole business end of it, so I can make sure you get what you deserve.&nbsp; And a portion of the rights to every song, of course."&nbsp; He fished a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, checking the time and frowning.<br><br>"Well, I really need to get going.&nbsp; Your music was amazing, Isolde.&nbsp; Whether you take me up on my offer or not, I would love to hear you again sometime.&nbsp; I'll be in touch," he said as he stood and stretched, giving her a lopsided smile.&nbsp; "Oh, and I'll be discreet about it, so don't worry, okay?&nbsp; I don't want to stress you out."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Drugged [Will &amp; Wisti]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Wistful Dream</strong> on <strong>20-07-2010, 04:43:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				So much for a peace offering. It wasn't like the music was legally copy righted to her and no one else had ever heard or read the lyrics; she didn't want to deal with copy rights and lawyers and the like, didn't want to draw attention to herself doing something that would not be approved of by her foster parents. It would risk too much. She slipped the sheets of music back into the folder with a sigh and shake of her head at him, he didn't seem to understand anything. The lyrics were special to her, likely the best she had written so far, the most channeling of the depths of her desires to be sure. "It is special but I can't..I can't draw attention to myself or my music, then I couldn't write anything."<br><br>She tried to explain but he was always pulling out his phone, already getting ready to leave and likely forget her. The promise of opportunity and money made her clench her hands, thinking of what she could do if he really would pay for her music. Probably not much but a little here and there could add up and it could make college a reality for her. <br><br>Isolde glanced up at him, a slight furrow to her brow. "Its not stress Alastyre, its more the fact that I don't want to loose everything. But then I guess someone like you wouldn't understand what it is to be perched on a knife's edge were one wrong step could see everything you dream of shattered. I offered the music to be nice, to make up for being hostile. If you don't want it fine but I'm not going to a lawyer, its not like I have the money for anything like that."<br><br>She stood herself, glancing at the clock on the wall and sighing, realizing that all their talking had used up the little free time she got each day. The blond stuffed her folder back into her bag and then headed for the door, this time storming right past him with agitation in the line of her body. She didn't want to think about his smooth deep voice, about that lopsided smile, about talking music; it was too good to be true and she was too close to her goal to risk loosing everything. Still the flier....She shoved the thoughts out of her head and hurried down the stairwell and then out into the courtyard just in time as the van her foster mother pulled up. Mr. Popular would remain just a stolen moment and she had to return to her reality. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>