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Post by reilly halina blake gordon on Aug 18, 2015 14:24:59 GMT -5
Reilly didn't really know Marina. She was a familiar face in most of the clubs when Reilly went to them and she saw the tall blonde having a little too much of a good time most nights. Reilly never judged though. She had once been doing the exact same thing only it wasn't in a swanky New York club. It had been in some dark corner of San Francisco with a crowd who had dumped her in a heartbeat the moment things had started creeping up from her past and tormenting her mind. Reilly never interfered with other people and their lives because she hated it so much when people poked their noses in her business, but tonight there was something different about Marina. She was swaying a little too much and looked a little too unstable on those skyscraper heels – again Reilly had been there before, but a very long time ago. It was only on a few poignant occasions that the Russian blonde allowed herself to get messed up these days, and the rest of the year she was in good control of herself and her drinks. Reilly could drink most grown men under the table and walk away without so much as a stumble. She would joke it was her Russian blood, but in truth it was probably the binge drinking she had done in her teens. It had increased her tolerance and made it almost impossible for her to get drunk without deliberately trying to. Reilly was talking to a guy who had approached her from the dance floor, flirting over a vodka coke he had bought her moments before. That was when she saw the commotion out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't hear what was happening over the sound of the music, but she could see Marina had thrown a drink over one of the guys and the bouncers were moving in to remove her from the club. Reilly didn't know what possessed her to get involved, but she did. Without saying a word to the rather boring guy who was coming on a little too strong in his efforts to take her home, she crossed the club and pushed between the angry and sodden with cocktail college kid and the first bouncer to reach Marina. She lied expertly through her teeth, claiming the out of control blonde was her friend and made every promise to get her home. Reilly had no idea where that was exactly, but she would get the wrecked blonde somewhere that wasn't serving drinks.
Outside, in the cool almost-spring air, Reilly shouldered the taller woman and tried to get something out of her that made sense. After about ten minutes she pried an address from the now barely conscious Marina and dragged her towards a cab. It took about three minutes of hostile negotiations with the driver to convince him to take the scantily clad blonde anywhere, but Reilly could be persuasive when she turned nasty, and soon they were on their way with Reilly wondering why on earth she was doing any of this. She found a set of keys in Marina's clutch and assumed they were what she would need next. After paying the cab driver and hauling the weight of the drunken girl from the backseat, she looked up at the fancy building and proceeded to drag Marina inside. She figured it was the right place after night staff seemed to acknowledge the presence of her with less bemusement and more of a 'not again' series of looks. She used the elevator and had to remember the number she had pulled from Marina before she had slumped into a drunken sleep. It took five minutes of fumbling with the lock, the set of keys and Marina before she could get the door open and slip inside.
Reilly had no clue what was inside this apartment or what it looked like, so the moment she found a couch, she dropped Marina onto it, rolling the girl onto her side and sighing. That was the last time Reilly played Good Samaritan, she decided. Glancing down, she realised that she was covered in drink. Reilly hadn't even noticed another drink being spilt or thrown, but she could smell it now. Well, she had gone out of her way to bring this woman home so a thank you could come in the form of a cup of washing powder and maybe some coffee. It was close to 4am and Reilly was feeling exhausted now. Moving through the apartment, feeling for light switches as she went, she moved to the kitchen, stripping out of her top and jeans as she went, leaving her shoes in the doorway, too. Barefoot, and clad in just her underwear, Reilly fumbled with the cupboards looking for laundry supplies. She turned the coffee maker on along the way, too, setting it up while she rummaged through just about everything, finding everything she didn't need. How many places could there be to keep laundry products?!
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TAGGED! Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren WORDS! 840! OUTFIT! Home Invasion! LYRICS! Haven’t Had Enough - - - Marianas Trench NOTES! <3
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Post by Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren on Sept 4, 2015 10:41:21 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/AH6_zpsgmwic2wj.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/8515d4-Whats%20Your%20Name_zpsybaxfyqb.png) If it hadn’t been for Marina, Kam would probably have still been in Texas, flirting with the socialites his age who were still single and making dull small talk with his fellow businessmen, all whilst hiding the fact that he was definitely not the man they all thought he was. Kam wasn’t that perfect gentleman his parents raised him to be anymore. Not that it mattered. With both parents gone, there was only him, Marina and the half dozen business advisers; most of whom thought Kam was too young to run such a company. More than half though he would run the company into the ground during the first year of him taking over. It had never mattered that Kam had been groomed to take over long before at least four of them even chose a college to attend or that the framed degree on his wall said he’d graduated with honours in business studies. He knew what he was doing and now the family business, at least Kam’s half of it, was into all sorts of ventures. He wanted his fingers in all sorts of pies; and he’d made that happen.
Kam liked New York well enough, it was a great city but if Marina hadn’t decided to move there, he wouldn’t have even considered it. But someone needed to be there for her and he was the only one she seemed to listen to. It was the only way this was going to go and Kam had known it, so he’d also found an apartment in the city; close enough that he could get to his sister’s place within fifteen minutes of bad traffic but far enough away that she felt like she had some freedom. And reality was, she ran wild. Kam was really just there to make sure she didn’t have another breakdown. It was all he could do these days; watch out for her and make sure she had someone to call when the bouncers threw her out of yet another club for the night. He honestly didn’t know how she did it. He’d gone to his fair share of clubs when he’d been in university, gotten into a few scraps and some down right nasty brawls but he’d never been walked out a club before. Marina just knew all the wrong button’s to push that led to Kam’s phone going off in the middle of the night, demanding he do something about his sister.
Since he hadn’t heard from her by the usual hour, Kam went to bed and his dreams came instantly and vividly. He never really remembered them once his eyes were open but whilst closed, they were fascinating. The ringing phone however was the invading culprit ruining a rather adventurous dream. But it hadn’t really woken him up. When he hadn’t gotten a call by three, he’d figured it was safe to go to bed. He’d rather stupidly assumed his sister had found her way home and was sleeping off her night in her own bed. No, the sound of the cupboards clanging shut was what really woke Kam up. The fog of sleep cleared pretty damn quickly and he figured the phone call was the front desk warning him of his incoming visitor. It hadn’t been that long but they’d grown accustomed to seeing his little sister in a state pretty damn quickly; much to his dismay. With a sigh, Kam threw back the covers, padded barefoot to pull a shirt from his top dresser drawer and started down the hall to the noise. He was pulling the shirt over his head when he reached the main area. “Wha-” He started, pausing just after getting the shirt over his head. “You’re definitely not Marina.” He said confused as he slowly pulled his shirt down. “Who are you?”
Tag || reilly halina blake gordon Words || 691 Clothes || Sleepy CEO Music || What's Your Name --Chase Rice Notes || <3
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Post by reilly halina blake gordon on Sept 8, 2015 12:40:17 GMT -5
Reilly had never wanted to stay in San Francisco. She needed to get away from there and give herself a break from all the memories. The city had almost broken her, along with what had turned out to be a late manifestation of PTSD that she was still reluctant to admit to. New York gave her plenty of things to keep her busy, school and work being the main two. She was fairly certain that if she stayed at Planet Hollywood for too long she would turn Penny’s hair grey, but thankfully Reilly’s plan was to hand in her notice when she donned her graduation gown in another two years. She figured her boss and friend might be able to hold out that long, the customers were another question entirely. Reilly lacked the polite etiquette of most restaurant staff, and she certainly didn’t have the patience for their complaints or rudeness. More often than not she put them in their place and added her tip to their bills. Blunt, not Blake, ought to have been in her middle names.
Still, she supposed there must have been a shred of decency somewhere inside her cold Russian exterior or else she wouldn’t have helped a near stranger home tonight. Then again, she had dumped the unconscious drunk on a couch, stripped off her own outfit and was now rummaging through everything to find detergent to wash her clothes. It was probably a little more than invasive, but then Reilly had done much worse in her lifetime. She didn’t expect to be disturbed. Marina was definitely out until lunchtime Reilly would estimate, and she would be long gone and back to her usual sour ways by then, hopefully with clean clothes to boot. She heard the noise and at first wondered if the passed out drunk maybe had curious pets who were waking from slumber to see what was happening. No, the footsteps were too heavy and spaced out to be that of a dog or cat. Then Reilly heard the voice of what was definitely a man. A pretty good looking man, she thought, though she wasn’t the type to say anything out loud. At least not unless there was a drink in her hand or music playing. “I’m definitely not.” Reilly confirmed, looking him up and down. She didn’t move to cover herself or even appear embarrassed by being caught in lingerie in a stranger’s kitchen at what had to be 4am now. “Well, Bats, I’m not Catwoman if that’s what you’re worried about.” She smirked, bending back over to continue her search.
Nothing about this bothered Reilly. She wasn’t ashamed by her lack of clothing, and she didn’t feel awkward in this moment. When this cupboard only offered up some cloths, and a bucket she suspected Marina might need, she pulled it out and moved immediately by the strange man. “Nice ink by the way. It’s hot on you.” She ran a curious finger down his arm, studying the detail before breezing on by to dump the bucket on the floor next to the couch. Reilly returned to the kitchen, again squeezing past the stranger and glanced around to see where she hadn’t looked yet. “Where in God’s name is the laundry detergent? Softener? Washing powder? Dryer sheets?” She asked in exasperation, turning back to the guy and speaking to him like she knew him, or at least like she did this often, which she didn’t. This was a first for Reilly, it just didn’t show.
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TAGGED! Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren WORDS! 594! OUTFIT! Home Invasion! LYRICS! Haven’t Had Enough - - - Marianas Trench NOTES! <3
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Post by Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren on Jul 17, 2016 16:20:41 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/AH6_zpsgmwic2wj.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/8515d4-Whats%20Your%20Name_zpsybaxfyqb.png) In the last few years Kam had seen plenty that should have shocked him but none of it did ithe slightest. Between what he'd gotten up to whilst at school and then everything Marina got up to, it would be a wonder if anything ever surprised him again. Maybe when he was older and the next generation was involved but until that happy day, there would be nothing that made him genuinely raise his brows in shock. They'd been raised to be the perfect high society clones and in front of those society stepfords, they were but when they were on their own it was a totally different story. There were only a couple people in those circles that knew about Kam's real life and he'd made damn sure Marina's issues were kept secret. It had been hard work making sure no one found out about Marina beyond the stunt she'd pulled at the wedding. That had been easy enough to explain, which he did even if it was all utter bullshit.
He had know nothing would get better in New York but Kam had also known that Marina had needed to be away from the group of people that damn near destroyed her. He could do his work from just abut anywhere and hardly ever took real vacations. Even when he ran off to the Bahamas, he worked at least a few hours here and there throughout the day. It wasn't just so he could write it off, he had the funds to go travel without adding it to the company tab, it was literally because he had so much to do that he just didn't feel right spending days on end on a white sand beach with a turquoise ocean lapping waves at his feet and one of those fruity rum filled drinks in his hand. And lately he hadn't run off anywhere because his little sister seemed to be on another one of her binges. He didn't want to be away when she found herself on his couch; again. He had assumed it was her when he heard the noise in the other room. He hadn't even considered someone had come along with her so the blonde was a surprise but not one that warranted genuine shock. "That's the wrong outfit for Catwoman." He pointed out though that had hardly been the point.
Kam watched as she continued to rummage through his cupboards looking for something. He figured it was the bucket he kept there for Marina when she pulled it free and started towards him. "Thanks. I'll be sure to tell my buddy his work's appreciated." He had worked with the artist he'd picked back in Texas and he hadn't gone anywhere else for the rest of them. It wasn't that he hadn't found places that were fantastic and artists that could rival his friend, it was just that it was his friend he kept going back to and not some stranger. Obviously though the bucket was not what she was after, even if Kam wanted to believe that was all and then she'd be on her way. She was standing in his home, wearing lingerie. He knew dress codes at New York nightclubs varied and were by far more lenient than some, he still thought lingerie was probably over the very thin line. "Cupboard above the washer and dryer. It's all there." He told her pointing up to the cupboard he was directing her to. He hated sensing his clothes out and never remembering where he was when he did it and freaking out running bus favourite short was there in the house or at a drycleaner in New York when in fact it was waiting in his wardrobe in Texas! He'd done that a couple times before he gave up and just bought the front loading blue grey set.
Tag || reilly halina blake gordon Words || 646 Clothes || Sleepy CEO Music || What's Your Name --Chase Rice Notes || <3
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Post by reilly halina blake gordon on Jul 25, 2016 17:42:32 GMT -5
Reilly was used to people being shocked by her. Be it her attitude, the way she spoke, or the general life she chose to live, the Russian was done being surprised when people reacted to her. She knew why she was the way she was and it wasn’t anyone else’s business but her own. She didn’t go around sharing tales of her life, just like she didn’t go around asking people for the gory details of theirs. Sometimes she just didn’t care about those other people, and other times she simply knew better than to pry. If she had been through things she didn’t want to talk about, then it was a safe bet that other people were the same. It might not be as traumatic, or involve a stint in psych, but people had different ideas of rough and Reilly wasn’t going to stamp her feet and compare horse sizes. She was tough, but someone else might be a different kind of tough. She could stare all kinds of danger in the face, would never shy away from a fight, but fireworks made her a scared little kitten because of how triggering they were to her. If she didn’t want people to laugh at that, she sure as hell wasn’t going to make fun of someone else’s fears or worries. No, it was just easier not to share at all.
Bottling things up worked fairly well for Reilly. Sure, there were times when she drank a few too many bottles, and there were bad days she liked to pretend didn’t happen, but she handled herself better alone. She didn’t take advice well, and hearing someone trying to sympathise with her problems only ever made her blood boil. She would rather come across as a blonde with a bad attitude than open up and let anyone in. It was just much easier that way. “How do you know what Catwoman wore under her catsuit?” Reilly asked with a raised eyebrow and a dark smile. She was wicked when she wanted to be, and it didn’t matter to her that the man in front of her was a complete stranger. He was hot, and Reilly wasn’t ashamed to tumble into bed with someone she barely knew if the mood struck her. She was only young once, and she had done far worse things in her time. Of course, she hadn’t brought Marina here with any intention of stumbling upon a guy to have her wicked way with, and even now Reilly was just teasing. She liked having some fun, and at this hour in the morning she needed to be asleep or having fun; else what was the point?
Reilly’s tattoos were on show; a rare moment for the blonde whose few pieces of ink were spread across her body. They were nothing like this man’s, although each of hers had a personal meaning to her that she hadn’t shared the full details with. “You’re somewhat responsible, too. The art only looks good on the right canvas.” Reilly personally could not stand skinny men covered in tattoos. They always looked like they were compensating for something. She knew some men wouldn’t like her ink, but those men were the ones who could go and flush themselves for all she cared. Personal taste was something of an offensive companion, but Reilly was often more offensive than she was ever polite. Tonight was a rare moment of kindness that had eventually led to her being scantily clad in a stranger’s kitchen. She huffed as she found the washing necessities after he pointed them out to her. Reilly set about tossing her clothes into the machine and filling the drawer with powder, adjusting the setting and then turning the darn thing on. Laundry was not one of her favourite things to do. “You going to keep a girl company through the spin cycle?” She asked in a mockingly teasing tone as she crossed back over to the new man in her life who she honestly expected to never see again after her clothes were washed and dry.
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TAGGED! Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren WORDS! 689! OUTFIT! Home Invasion! LYRICS! Haven’t Had Enough - - - Marianas Trench NOTES! <3
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Post by Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren on Jul 14, 2017 20:15:16 GMT -5
![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/AH6_zpsgmwic2wj.png) ![](http://i564.photobucket.com/albums/ss81/Robina-Luv/OLB/Lyrics%20Graphics/8515d4-Whats%20Your%20Name_zpsybaxfyqb.png) Grinning, Kam crossed his arms over his chest to settle in for this interesting turn to his night. "Well, there was this one particularly steamy scene in one of the movies or episodes, I can't recall offhand that included a bit where our dear feline bad girl seduced the emotionally distraught superhero." He explained though whether or not it was the truth was irrelevant as was if he'd been the man or the legend. It also didn't ask the important question; did she know they were one and the same or had she been after something specific? Kam didn't care either way, it was just to have the last word really. And the hour wasn't one for philosophy or psychology. It was for crawling into bed after a night out with a woman to unwrap like a gift. Or in his case that night, after switching between fretting over his sister's whereabouts and calls back in Texas. A few people he knew would have been up when he'd been making those calls, the late night workers who believed the couch in their offices was actually a bed.
He couldn't understand how those men and the handful of women who pulled the stunt could consciously decide to stay home. If he had someone waiting for him in his bed, he would have been running out the door the second the clock struck five. It wouldn't have mattered if there was no food on the table, they could have cooked together or ordered in and settled onto the couch for a night of bad television and each other's company or maybe even an impromptu night out with dinner and drinks and dancing afterwards. It wouldn't have mattered really but he knew for certain if he had someone at home, he would not have been pushing his overtime hours unless it was absolutely necessary. "Flattery will get your everywhere." He told her with a wolfish grin that showed off his pearly white teeth.
Kam grinned down at the scantily clad blonde. "That depends on the activity, Kitty." He tossed the new nickname in there more to gauge her reaction to it than anything else. He was a shit disturber when he allowed himself to be; which was any time he wasn't wearing that noose around his neck. God, how he hated ties and the designer suits that went with them. If he could run his business in jeans and t-shirts, he would absolutely do it in the blink of an eye. As it was, he wore them because they covered the ink he wasn't supposed to have as a smart business man from the wealthy family that he was. He was the "good" kid, the one people looked to for answers. Marina was the "mess", she was the one that needed to be looked after. It didn't matter that a very small part of Kam looked at her with admiration for tossing what everyone else thought out the window.
Tag || reilly halina blake gordon Words || 496 Clothes || Sleepy CEO Music || What's Your Name --Chase Rice Notes || <3
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Post by reilly halina blake gordon on Jul 15, 2017 10:35:26 GMT -5
Throughout her life Reilly had been told that her tongue would get her in trouble. She had an answer for everything and enjoyed having the last word in an argument. Answering back had landed her in trouble during her high school years, and despite her intelligence, Reilly didn’t know when it was best to stay quiet. She wanted to fight back, to argue and kick up a fuss. If she could win a silly battle over nothing then she was happy, and if she could make a point and force someone to back down she was even happier. ”So,” she purred, taking a slight step closer to close the distance between them. “Are you an emotionally distraught superhero?” She asked, looking up at him through her thick eyelashes. Reilly didn’t even know this man, but she had done worse with worse. Plus, it was the middle of the night and she was practically naked in what she was now assuming was his apartment. If she couldn’t have a little bit of fun while her clothes were being washed then it was going to turn into the longest time that was also one of the most awkward memories of Reilly’s recent years – and she didn’t make a habit of having awkward memories. She wasn’t that type of girl.
“It’s a rare moment. Make the most of it.” She mumbled, reaching out to run her fingers over one of the designs on his arm before moving away again, probably over-exaggerating the sway of her hips as she did. Reilly searched through the cupboards again until she found a glass, and then moved to the sink to get some water for herself. Her lips left a rouge stain on the rim, and Reilly leaned back against the counter top. She was far too relaxed for any normal person in a stranger’s home at this hour of the night, but then she prided herself on being that little bit peculiar. She wasn’t a woman who sucked up to people. She did as she pleased, and often that meant going her own way and causing something of a scene over a tiny thing. Reilly was volatile, and her happy moods were short lived, just because there was always something that got under her skin and pissed her off. She was used to it, and despite the horrors that her life had offered her, and the scarring on her hand to remind her of it, Reilly liked who she was. Her temper was something she enjoyed, and she didn’t see anything wrong with her healthy libido. She was safe, confident, and comfortable.
A mischievous twinkle appeared in Reilly’s eyes, and she put her glass down on the counter before moving back over to the man whose sleep she had disturbed. “Careful. This ‘Kitty’ can scratch.” She lightly dragged her nails down his chest, and let out a pleased hum before chuckilng and stepping away. “You’re playing with fire, Bats.” She warned, reaching back for her water, and looking over her shoulder at this new stranger in her life. Washing her clothes was turning out to be more fun than she had anticipated.
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TAGGED! Kameryn Timothy Van Beuren WORDS! 535! OUTFIT! Home Invasion! LYRICS! Haven’t Had Enough - - - Marianas Trench NOTES! <3
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