played by mitzi
with 40 for
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on May 13, 2015 1:23:30 GMT
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the sun is near setting, angel's tall and skinny figure stretched grotesquely moreso in the shadow following at his feet; he walks against the sun, and a bruise peeks out from under his oversized sunglasses. he walks a shaky line down the sidewalks, cocking his head as he pauses in front of an apartment building. he stares at the building a few seconds, hands on hips, snapping his gum, counting the stories, before shoving open the front door.
he's a few weeks fresh from rehab, and he's tired of sobriety. he's just a little drunk, and he's been feeling nauseous but not quite high enough. angel had never really wanted to get clean (he thinks about his therapist, he'd probably be disappointed, just as much as he'd be thrilled to see angel helplessly fucked up)
"hey, what you got?" he raps loudly at the door he remembers to be mila's.
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played by TEA
with 24 for
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& PLOT
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Post by MILA MARVEL on May 13, 2015 5:53:04 GMT
only way to justify my childish despair It's a little past 7 in the evening when Mila finally finds it in herself to roll out of bed. It's cold in her apartment despite having the heater on all night, and the setting sun is blocked out by the dark curtain over the only window in her bedroom. It's quiet. The remnants of last night's endeavours are simply the scattered remains of Mila's clothes on the floor, and a haphazardly scribbled note from last night's companion on her night stand. Stretching with a slight grunt, the small woman peals herself out from underneath her covers and pulls on a clean sweater from her closet, and fresh underwear from her drawer. Distantly, she can hear her work phone vibrating from underneath a pile of clothes, but apathy is enough to make her ignore it. By the time she reaches the kitchen and picks up a pack of discarded cigarettes, there's already a loud rapping on her apartment door. With a sigh, Mila slides a cigarette into her mouth, grabs a lighter, and moves to open the door. Flicking the dull lighter to life, she brings the sizzling flame to the stick and takes a drag before opening the door. Glancing upwards, Mila's met with the site of a very lanky, very tired-looking Angel. Whistling out an appreciative sigh of smoke, the woman grins and props the door open with the heel of her foot. "Well look what the cat dragged in." The drug dealer smiles, as she moves to push the door open even further, inviting the model in. "Haven't seen you in a while, love." A pause, a drag from the cigarette, a gentle exhale. "You look like shit." She snickered. ANGEL ALESSI // edit: accidentally changed tenses wHOOPS |
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played by mitzi
with 40 for
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on May 15, 2015 3:25:23 GMT
[googlefont="PT Serif"]
at least he has the right place - he can smell it like a bloodhound - the only sense it seems he can trust now. his sunglasses dim mila to nothing but a shadow and his balance is as precarious as his entire goddamn life, he's sliding right off the wagon and into the gutters - i'ts been, what, a week since he finished twelve-step?
"hey, i'm clean." he says, stepping inside and already seeking scent - the strongest smell is cigarette smoke, and he'll start there. "i'm a good boy." angel grins slightly, pointing at the pack on the table as if to ask, and slipping one out without caring about an answer.
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played by TEA
with 24 for
// APP
& PLOT
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Post by MILA MARVEL on May 18, 2015 2:48:47 GMT
only way to justify my childish despair The smoke curls around Mila's fingertips as she takes another drag, exhales, and flicks her lighter to life. She holds up the flame to Angel as an offering to light the stolen cigarette. She's always had a soft spot for the kid -- hell, she has a soft spot for anyone she talks to, but Angel is different. Something about the way he always seems to drag himself back up from the depths of hell and into a normal functioning state (or something close to it) within a blink of an eye absolutely amazes the girl. Shaking her head with a small smile, Mila lifts her head to stare back at her own reflection in Angel's shades. "That you are, darling." She takes a final drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out in an ashtray on the counter and immediately moving to light another. As soon as the small stick sits smouldering in between her lips, Mila saunters past the entrance and towards her living room. Plopping down on the couch, the woman pulls a large wooden case sitting on the table towards herself and flicks it open. "What's your poison for today?" She mutters past the cigarette perched in her mouth. ANGEL ALESSI |
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played by mitzi
with 40 for
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on May 23, 2015 5:40:37 GMT
[googlefont="PT Serif"]
he bats his lashes - his adoring, sparkling eyes full of thank you's when she lights his cigarette, but of course she can't tell.
angel doesn't pay much mind to the surroundings. he takes a drag and follows her to the couch, curling up beside her, his stilettos digging into the couch cushions. he's tensed, even in his drunkeness,. angel pushes his sunglasses to rest on his head - his hair billows like a halo about his head, the side of his face is bruised.
"you got downers?" his eyes flicker over the contents. "waaaay downers."
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played by TEA
with 24 for
// APP
& PLOT
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May 25, 2015 18:16:38 GMT
Post by MILA MARVEL on May 25, 2015 18:16:38 GMT
only way to justify my childish despair Her fingers skitter along the tens of tiny plastic bags packed into the wooden box, only stopping to pull the odd one out. When she leans back, there's a small bundle of plastic bags on the table, piled as if it's a mountain waiting to be conquered. Mila takes another drag and turns to talk to the young boy next to her and almost backpedals when she sees the dark blotches tainting Angel's skin. She bites her tongue, knowing nothing good ever comes from sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and begins rattling off the drugs he can take his pick of. "That one's china white dope, it's fucked." She snorts, pointing her finger at the bag before moving to list off the rest of them. "Xanax, Oxy, I've got a little fentanyl left, some Dilaudid..." She leans back in the couch and scratches the back of her head, taking another drag. "I might have some designer dope I can dig up, but it's pretty fucking heavy." She pauses and moves to fiddle with the matted neon locks twisted into buns at the top of her head. ANGEL ALESSI |
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