Breakdown! {{For Miz}}

[Ariadne North]

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You appear just like a dream to me.
Just like Kaleidoscope colors that cover me.

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Lights flicked by outside the window to her right, hues of light blues, whites and reds, a constant reminder that all other forms of traffic were moving, while she was parked still, handbrake on, halted by some sort of mechanical bloody malfunction with her junk-ass-piece-of-shit car; or rather the junk-ass-piece-of-shit car she stole from her mother. One arm was propped against the steering wheel, and her chin rested on an outstretched palm, head lolling to one side, the position of a young girl bored out of her mind. She was unsure how long she had been sat there, but she knew it had been too long. A low, drawn out sigh passed pursed lips, and her fringe lifted out of her face, before coming again to rest against her skin, just moments later, the strands now resting on her cheek rather than being stuck to her lips.

The sigh was followed by a yawn, the gentle drumming of rain on the roof of the car enough to sooth even those wired on caffeine to some sort of half-waking state. When combined with boredom and the gentle hum of the car's heater, it was enough to cause full blown sleep, snoring and all, and she was doing everything she could to avoid dozing off. Not that her attempts were all that successful. She could feel her eyelids lolling lazily, and no matter how many times she drummed the long, bony fingers of her free hand against her thigh, and no matter how many times she shuffled to try and find an uncomfortable position, she could feel herself slipping out of consciousness.

Moments later, she was in a familiar place; a small, ancient house in the middle of Kansas, tucked under a thick cover, sat in front of an aerial T.V with limited reception. It played numerous scenes of her childhood, flash backs of her life, smiles, tears and indifference playing out on the imaginary screen of her minds eye. She was paying little attention to what was happening about her, but instinctively knew that she wasn't alone. Yet no matter how much she wanted to look left and right, she couldn't. Her eyes were glued to the television, and she felt as though she was being forced to watch everything, to relive her entire past through the medium of film.

The more she watched, the more she felt the presence of another, lingering like an unwanted spirit, there yet invisible and unmoving. The scenes began to speed up, so fast she was a teen in minutes, flashing images of birthdays and of first days, of graduations and last days. A pattern began to emerge, something she hadn't noticed at first, but something that became more and more clear with each breath she took; she was never alone. At no time, from baby to teen, was she alone in the grained pictures. There was always another stood beside her, holding her, or a few steps away; her mother. Forever the same...not ageing like her, but always there.

And then she knew what the presence was. Her mother. Even when Ariadne was alone in her dreams, Jillian North was there, watching her. It was a reminder; she was looking for her daughter, the one that ran away, and no matter where Ariadne ran, she would get found by the all-powerful matriarch. There was no escape.

The lights of her dream-world flickered out, and the television hit white noise, an unbearable hissing and crackling emanating from its worn speakers. Ariadne's dream-self was terrified, but she still couldn't find it in herself to move. Something froze her where she was. Something kept her eyes glued to the screen; the screen that went blank, and with it, the buzz of nothingness went mute, and a small, whispered voice echoed around her. It was familiar, and it said but one word – 'Daughter.'

Ariadne bolted awake, the feel of her vibrating phone against her waist startling from her afternoon nap. She near shot out of her seat, and looked about her with wide eyes, as if she had no recollection of where she was. It took a moment for everything to sink in; she was still curbside, still in her car, still broken down. Cursing lightly, she reached into her pocket and fished out her cell, flicked it open, and saw she had a missed call. It was from the people who were meant to be fixing her ride, and clearly still weren't. They'd left a message at least. Pressing her phone to her ear, she dialled voice mail.

Moments later she hung up, cursing more, and then dropped the phone onto the passengers seat, following the action up by punching her steering wheel as hard as she could. A deafening honk sounded, the perfect sound to air her frustration and then she let herself collapse backward. The team would be a while because they'd got caught up fixing someone else's car, and it was a more urgent repair. Just...great. Why was it, since she'd run away from home, everything had gone wrong?




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All I need, every breath that I breathe.[/i]
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Tag: Open
Outfit:Something like this...
Notes: Hope this is okay!
Credit: This template was made by hpphoenix2011 @ caution 2.0. The lyrics are from When I look at You by Miley Cyrus. DO NOT STEAL THIS OR RABID BUNNIES WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!!!![/center][/size]

[Aidan O'Riley]

Aidan winced at the sound of Lucy’s voice beside him, wishing he’d stay at mom and dad’s just a little longer. Since it was his day off and his mom had been saying he didn’t come over for lunch enough he’d gotten up early enough run his dog Mickey around the park before the crowd, stopped by his office and picked up some paper work, gone for a cup of coffee, and gotten over there in time for tuna fish on wheat. It made Ma’ real happy.
The little specter that haunted him didn’t say much around his parents, so the young detective savored the quiet moments…even when mother dear was nagging in his ear about how she’d like him to get a nice desk job instead of the one that forced him out on the dangerous streets.
That freaking job had ended up with the ghost in his ear to begin with.

The chase. The adrenaline. The blast of pain when the bullet had struck his chest and then the numb. And the black. Can’t forget about the blackness.

But he had a thick skull, which was probably why he was so damned good at his job. He couldn’t give it up. Not yet. Call it a hero syndrome but getting dirt off the street was his high. He lived for it. And…it kept him distracted from the sometimes ache in his chest where the foreign organ lived, and the sad little girl that mourned the loss of that organ.

Aidan sighed and forced a smile and nodded at the phantom princess, pretending like he was listening to her prattle on about how the rain made her hair ache. She swore to it.
He knew she didn’t feel her hair…or the hole in her chest that she manifested when she was mad at him and trying to make him feel terrible. He wondered if she really even felt sad. Did ghosts have real emotions? Could he even fathom what it must feel like be stolen away from the world, yet forced to stay in it? The little girl holding the snow globe, she would sigh and shake it and pretend to catch snowflakes on her translucent tongue.

After lunch with mom and a quick hello/good bye to the twins that had shown up a few hours later, Aidan left and went straight to the gym. He always kept his gym bag in the back seat of his silver BMW and Lucy mostly left him alone there too. After a while of talking to him uselessly when he had headphones in and blaring, she would get board and go off to frighten a muscle head by tossing around the free weights. Aidan would see her from the corner of his eye and it would make him smile.

Aidan ran in place on the treadmill until he was out of breath, his black gym shorts and the grey tee-shirt soaked with moisture and his head pounding with a pulse of its own. It happened when he kept the music on high, but then again, tuning the ghost out for a while was worth the minor cranial ache.
Swiping the towel over his arms and then hanging it around the back of his neck, Aiden went for the showers, praying to god for just a few more minutes of solitude; even if the shower was shared with a body builder with no neck who kept eyeing him like he knew him.

The young man climbed back into his vehicle twenty-minutes later, hair wet but smelling like the ocean and skin fresh like soap. He was headed back home to maybe take Mickey out for another quick walk before he vegged out in front of the television with a Guinness or two.

He laughed at something Lucy said, but winced against another shot of pain in his temple, this one followed by a series of unfamiliar voices invading his brain.

Why the hell had he taken this way home? The cemetery was always gonna’ be there. Wasn’t like the skeletons were gonna’ pick up their headstones and move some place warmer.

Aidan lifted his hand to rub his temple and his eyes slammed closed when he tried to block out all the pleas. Not this. Not on his day off…

When his pale azure eyes came open he was half on, half off the road. He swerved to miss a POS parked there and headlights nearly blinded him. Aidan cursed, swerved to miss the on coming truck and swerved back over, pulling the beamer to a stop a grassy patch of shoulder.

He was stunned for like half a second, regaining his wits swiftly like he was forced to do when looking at the dead body of a young kid. Pocketing his keys he climbed out, approached the window of the car, and gave the glass window a knock. “Every ‘bahdy’ okay in there?” Aidan asked, in his thick brogue.

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-wearing-

[Ariadne North]

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You appear just like a dream to me.
Just like Kaleidoscope colors that cover me.

[/color][/i]
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Ariadne North had been resting her eyes. Or at least, that is what she'd tell any that stumbled across her while in her dozing state. Since she'd been sat around doing very little, merely waiting for people to come and rescue her ride, she'd flopped back on her seat in frustration, closed her eyes, and promptly fallen to sleep again. Her anger at roadside repair men and her former daymare hadn't been enough to stop her falling back into her own personal dream land, this time free of angry mothers and the unnerving crackle of white noise. It was peaceful, lighter, yet something that would leave her completely and utterly disoriented on waking.

Imagine then her surprise when she was woken by the screech of metal on metal, the sound of horns blaring, and the sight of a car swerving narrowly around her own, dodging oncoming traffic and finally skidding to a halt on a narrow patch of grass a few meters ahead of her. It happened so fast that she had very little idea of what was going on, and merely let out a shrill shriek as she watched the other vehicle near crash into her and then another few cars. Having been woken with a jolt, her heart raced, and she could hear every beat echo in her ear drums, along with her scream of course, that lasted seconds longer than it should have while her brain processed what was happening about her.

When it finally cottoned onto the fact she was alive, that her car was undamaged, and amazingly, everyone about her was absolutely fine, the sound that passed her lips quietened, then dissipated completely, replaced by deep, laboured breaths. Her chest heaved, and she realized that it had been the first movement she'd made since the noise had woken her. Slowly, testing her limbs, she began to shuffle around, wiggling her fingers, clenching and unclenching her fists. Despite the fact nothing had touched her, her movements felt slow and sluggish, as if they met constant resistance. Sitting up a little, she scanned her immediate vicinity; traffic still moved, and there seemed to be no tell tale signs that the near crash had ever happened.

“Fudge,” she whispered, the word barely audible to even her. “Way too close.”

It was then that she finally looked down at herself, noticing how pale she was, and that her formerly impossible to move hands now met so little resistance they had taken on a life of their own, shaking erratically. Sitting up a little more she felt a light headed, but did her best to assert her active conscious, trying to calm her jitters. Progress was slow at first, as no matter how hard she concentrated, her fingers and palms would twitch uncontrollably, although as seconds became tens of seconds, and as they then became minutes, she managed to calm them somewhat, finally gripping the steering wheel when all else failed.

A sharp knock on her window startled her, and she spun towards it, long hair usually neat a complete mess, slight waves bunched together to form near birds nests, fringe hanging down in front of her face. Beyond the glass stood a tall, dark haired man, attractive in every sense of the word, looking in at her with a rather concerned expression on his face. Was he the repair man? No, he couldn't be. He didn't look like a roadside mechanic. Her mind raced, her shy demnour getting the better of her, causing her to tense up.

Large, sea green eyes flicked from the man to the space about her, as if there would be some clue as to his origin. Luckily for her, there was. The car that had caused near numerous near deaths sat abandoned. There was no driver, and she theorized that he had come to check on her. Looking back to him, frowning a little, she began to speak. “No. I am not okay! You nearly cr-” She caught herself when she realized the windows were still up, and that while she may have been ranting, it was most likely for her own benefit. She doubted he'd hear a thing she'd said.

Reaching over, she gripped the hand crank lever, still with slightly shaky hands, and rolled the window down as fast as she could. The chill air hit her face like a slap, and she instantly wished she hadn't exposed herself to the elements.

“Hey,” she began in a serious tone, ready to continue where she'd left off, “I'm not-” But again she stopped. Getting a good look at the other's face, his expression of geniune concern, his wide eyes, his fairly attractive face...she couldn't be angry at him, or she could, but she couldn't bring herself to voice it. It had been an accident, and he was clearly worried enough that he'd near totalled her car. He didn't need to know he'd rattled her beyond belief.

Raising a wobbling hand to her face, she brushed some hair from her lip, gulped, and then nodded slowly. “Yeah...yeah I'm fine.” Not that it was true. She was severely shaken, and couldn't seem to calm her nerves, which had gotten worse since she'd been approached by a stranger. “I..uhm...are you okay? It was some like...totally awesome stunt driving you pulled off just there.” As much as she wanted her line to sound like a light hearted joke, it didn't. It sounded like the words of a scared young girl, trying to cover up the fact she was terrified, voice wavering and uncertain.



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All I need, every breath that I breathe.[/i]
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Tag: Aidan ~
Outfit:Something like this...
Notes: Hope this is okay!
Credit: This template was made by hpphoenix2011 @ caution 2.0. The lyrics are from When I look at You by Miley Cyrus. DO NOT STEAL THIS OR RABID BUNNIES WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!!!![/center][/size]

[Aidan O'Riley]

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Aidan waited patiently as the driver within the vehicle seemed to start awake. Her pale jade eyes were wide and searching and her hair looked as if she’d just come from a nap or…
He peered in; specifically towards the passenger side to make sure he hadn’t just interrupted a nice afternoon round of road head…or road shoulder head as it were. Aidan’s brow pinched hesitantly and his cheeks warmed a little; a light tomato hue crawling up to the tips of his ears.

Finding no one in there save the girl, the young detective forced an easy smile and lifted his palm to wave a little; then let it fall into the pocket of his worn blue jeans.
The whispered smile fell from its place on his lips when she proceeded to mouth something at him as the look on her face was pure aggravation. Once again Aidan, ever the detective, wondered if she had been drinking and had pulled over on the shoulder to sleep it off. In his opinion she looked younger than legal drinking age, but he had never really been a good judge of that kind of thing. Girls looked younger and younger these days. His mom, well into her …middle age, looked no older than 25 to him.

Seeming to contain the tiny tornado that had blown through the car, Aidan chuckled quietly as she wrenched the window down; all serious expression despite her frazzled appearance. In the moments it took for her to pause and observe him, the detective had done the same; only his transitory scrutiny had granted him a whole lot more than just a brief impression. As with most people he came in contact with, he committed her fragile face to memory; storing it away in one of the many file cabinets that cramped up the young man’s mind.
He noted the shaking porcelain hand that lifted to her face to move a stray wisp of hair and the furrow in her alabaster brow. Her wide eyes were still darting nervously, unable to connect with his serene ones for more than half a second. She was startled far more than her airy words let on, confirming to the detective that she hadn’t been sleeping when he’d played Evel Knievel just now, or if she had been, the whine of his BMW had roused her.

At her statement Aidan lifted his shoulders and then let them fall in a shrug; shifting from one foot to another in absent awkwardness. “I ah…well; it’s an unmarked police cah so I know how it handles. I’ve had to chase down some daredevils bef….” He stopped, realizing that the young woman really didn’t need the play-by-play and shook his head as a careless chuckle escaped from his throat.


“What are you doing here, ma’am?” Aidan inquired, going all police officer on her. “This isn’t a real good place to take a nap or…have you been drinking?”

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-wearing-

[Ariadne North]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You appear just like a dream to me.
Just like Kaleidoscope colors that cover me.

[/color][/i]
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Ariadne grimaced. It wasn't the continued interest of the stranger that caused her to frown as she did, and nor was it the fact she was as red as he was underneath her make up, blushing furiously. It certainly wasn't because he had revealed himself, somewhat inadvertently, to be a cop. Rather, in winding down her window, in coming out of the small, sleepy world she had been in, where it had just been her, her imagination and the hum of the heater, she had caught sight of herself in her wing mirror. She looked, to put it simply, a mess. Her eye-liner was smudged, her lip gloss was smeared half way across her cheek, and her foundation was 'blotchy', having come off in some places and not others. Her hair looked as though she had tried to back comb it, becoming a contemporary of Wednesday Adams. She stared at herself for a moment, eyes wide, paying very little attention to the man talking to her. “Oh...my...god...”

Her words were no more than a whisper, breathed between slightly parted lips. If she hadn't been embarrassed before, she certainly was now. She was awkward enough around people she didn't know, especially if they were older, attractive men. She would stand to be even more awkward if she was talking to said older, attractive man looking like some kind of 'Thriller' video reject. Her long, bony fingers found her face, and she stroked her cheeks and lips quickly, wiping away residue, trying to make herself somewhat presentable. She couldn't believe she didn't at least check first, give herself a once over before winding down the window to talk to Mr. H.B.I. (Hot-bodied investigator.) Well done, Ari. Now he thinks you are some kind of freak. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

However, her self-absorbed reverie was quickly broken. While he'd been chuckling to himself about something or other, she'd been trying to flatten her hair down. The moment he'd criticized her parking place and had asked her if she'd been drinking, she froze, eyes snapping back to him, wide and more than a little shocked; as if she were some kind of young fawn caught in the headlights of an oncoming bus. Drinking?! Her?! How could anyone think she was...Oh god. It was because she looked such a mess! The smudged make up and the crazy hair...in the mind of the analytical cop it made her some kind of waster, parked at the roadside to sleep off the alcohol intake. All she could do at first was stare, unblinking, into his face. Her lower lip quivered a little, and she had to bite it to keep it still. The forefingers on both her hands started scratching furiously at the skin beside her thumb-nail, a natural reaction when she was nervous.
“M-me? N-no. No! I...I haven't been drinking anything. I'm only nineteen! Her voice wavered, faltering at random points, and she quickly realized that it would probably do her no good. She quickly realized she probably looked the guiltiest person in the world if she couldn't even answer without looking terrified.

Raising her hands, she held them towards him, palms revealed. It was an attempt to allay what she assumed was the inevitable. She had to do something...do something before the guy went all 'cop' on her. The last thing she wanted was for him to call her mother and tell her that her runaway, wayward daughter had been breathalysed. No doubt the conversation would finish with Mr Lawman giving her mother her exact location. It would end her adventures somewhat prematurely, and just plain suck. She was in no mood to see her mother again, especially not after the dream she'd just had that portrayed her mother as an angry demon-bitch.

“Really! I..I promise! Like...my car broke down. It...stopped working so I pulled it over to wait for the repair guys. They haven't arrived yet and they...I'm like stuck here. I just wanted to rest my eyes and then...you totally skidded past me!” She got more and more desperate as she continued, desperately trying to convince the guy that she was telling the truth. “I promise!” she whined. Her day had gone from bad to worse- first it'd had been a failing car. Then a daymare. Then a near crash. And no she had been reduced to a babbling idiot in front of an attractive guy; who, coincidently, was interrogating her as to her level of sobriety. Just...great.



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All I need, every breath that I breathe.[/i]
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Tag: Open
Outfit:Something like this...
Notes: I'm sorry this isn't as good as normal! My brain is still mushified <3
Credit: This template was made by hpphoenix2011 @ caution 2.0. The lyrics are from When I look at You by Miley Cyrus. DO NOT STEAL THIS OR RABID BUNNIES WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!!!![/center][/size]

[Aidan O'Riley]

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Aidan thought he was wearing a casual, non-threatening smile, but the girl’s crystalline orbs widened as if she were stood right in front of the devil; pitch fork to her throat and warning to drag her to hell. So, yeah he probably shouldn’t have gone all serious officer on her; especially when it was clear she was flustered something serious, but it was in his nature to be concerned, and after all it was likely his stunt driving had had something to do with the agitation.

A quiet chuckle escaped from his nose at the sight of her dainty digits smoothing her face and hair back into place; though the upturned lips quickly righted themselves when the young officer realized he was watching her with too much pleasure. So what if she was an attractive young woman with a face that would make any man look upon her smeared make-up and tousled hair and think of an afternoon romp. He cleared his throat and shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans, rocking back and forth absently on the balls of his heels.
Cue some serious inward choking when she revealed her age to be only nineteen; Aidan suddenly felt like he should be thrown in jail for the mental image he had just made of her. He gave her his palms in surrender much like she had done him; hoping to salvage the situation and actually do his job instead of jerking off on the side of the road.

“Hey…calm down. I believe you.” Aidan tried to offer a reassuring smile but it probably appeared more uncomfortable than encouraging, and lifted one hand through his windswept brown hair. “Just…gotta’ ask you know.” He added as an after thought, subtly reminding her he was one of the good guys and only there to help.
The detective let his head drop against his neck a little, squinting against the sun peeking through some thick clouds, and his brow creased with a bad feeling.

“Looks like the sky is going to break open again, I’d hate for you to be stuck here waiting…in case it takes them a while longer. I can wait with you or…take you some place dry to wait? Should be able to call them in route to let them know…yeah?”
Aidan was in no way being unprofessional. Truth be told it wasn’t the safest part of town for anyone, let a lone a doe-eyed slip of a girl like her. “I’m Aidan…O’Riley. Detective O’Riley…or…just…Aidan.” He dipped his head sheepishly, wishing his mouth would quit moving already. He was really trying to make her feel more at ease but there he went again, acting like a man with badge flash syndrome (which most of the older detectives had a case of-- not him). The hand shifted to his back pocket, where the heavy emblem was practically burning a hole through the denim, and let another snort out through his nose.

And there was Lucy floating above the whole scene, laughing like a little girl would do at such gracelessness. ‘Could take her to the jail Aidy…’ She taunted in a voice that could cut through glass. ‘Throw her in the slam…that would REALLY be funny…”[/color]

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-wearing-
-- i sorry for the delaaaay-