Leopard coat draped over her shoulders, Marley raises a freshly poured cup of punch to her lips. Her third of the night. Maybe, fourth. To be honest, she’s lost count. All she knows is the magenta colored liquid is definitely the strongest, which is why that’s the one she went for again. Because stronger was always better in her opinion. She’d gone for quite a different look that night with thick black eyeliner painted around her eyes and a pair of obnoxiously large statement earrings in honor of Wahol’s underrated and tragic muse, Edie Sedgwick. Still, she’s stomping around in her favorite pair of old worn out combat boots and rolling her eyes anytime some Tarantino wannabe tries to shove a camera in her face. Nonetheless, she has to admit she’s enjoying the night. “As if that’s even a question,” she scoffs as she listens to Axel’s proposition. Her lips curling into a smirk as she eyes the competition in question. “Enticing offer. The walls in our room are kind of bare now that I think of it. Could be quite the addition. Are we sure we want to do this, though? Might bruise their fragile egos too much.”
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marley in herself, was a work of art. as she swept across the party, axel wouldn’t be surprised if she inspired a few pieces of art to be created, becoming the party’s very own personal muse. she grins something holy at the blonde’s words, the sunglasses dipping down slightly on the bridge of her nose, exposing pupils the size of golf balls as axel’s hands find marley’s prominent cheek bones, cratering them in her palms, “ altmeyer, i fuckin’ love you . ” she declares, and it’s clear that she has something other than a couple of vodka tonics floating in her system, “ genius. fuckin’ genius. let’s skip the game and go straight to making some art for our room. i offer up my tits on the left wall by the window. that spot right next to the door is all yours, what’re we getting from you in the name of art ? ”
“Makes me, uh… Makes me think of Italy, personally,” Jude reviewed the painting in front of him with Axel at his side, giving a limp jut of his beer bottle to single something out. “Leaning tower. Pisa. You, uh… You see those two boulders? Metaphorical interpretation… The fuckin’… weight of balancing something up, that’s trying to fall down. Crooked shape of that central rod… Pretty, uh… Dunno, I have to say… I’m moved. Bit of, uh… Bit of a lump in my throat. Whoever this piece is by… they fuckin’… knew how to evoke emotion.” The painting in question was just a crudely done penis in red paint, an early addition by students in the Jackson Pollock room with their brains in the gutter. Jude, eyes red-rimmed to the point that it was a borderline cause for concern, squinted as if attempting to calibrate further assessment. “What’s your interpretation? What are you, uh… feeling? Stirred? Fuckin’… overcome?” @axclfms
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they were practically a fragment of an imagination, two lanky figures standing side-by-side, the world spinning in chaos around them in what feels like a timelapse; bodies moving as quickly as axel can fathom while her and jude stay still in the eye of it all. she doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing in front of the painting, jude’s critique causing axel’s head to tilt - making a show to examine it in as great of detail as he was describing, the laugh that threatens to escape ghosting her lips. “ this -- ” she gestures theatrically towards it with an arm, the other digging into her back pocket and pulling out a chanel lipstick. “ this is a work of art. this deserves to replace moaning lisa in the louvre . ” she takes a step towards the canvas, blocking out jude from seeing what she writes in the corner, the lipstick moving easily against the canvas in cursive. “ judas, i don’t know what possessed me to do that, but i think the answer is written right here. ” she takes a step to the side, revealing the revised piece of art , using the lipstick canister to point to where she’d just written, “ look, j. christ. year 4 ad. this is the work of god's son ”
everything is an odd blur of color as he dances from room to room before settling near the makeshit bar — a blur of faces rush past him when he tries to think it all. the spearmint of someone’s lip gloss still stings slightly on his lips, despite the feeling of an eternity having past. he refills his glass, running a thumb along his bottom lip in an effort to smooth out the smears of color. “baby girl, i’m here on a bear pong scholarship and you look like you have wickedly good aim. there’s no doubt that we could beat those assholes.” he laughed, hands shaking slightly as he brought his drink to his lips. “let’s do it, i’m thinking maybe we replace your boobs with your wrist — as like a statement about how they should both be as socially acceptable to show in public.”
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“ is that so ? ” her head quirks to the side, taking a sip of her drink and eyeing him over the rim of her cup, “ i expect to see top notch fuckin’ tricks from you, then. -- heard brad over there can shoot it right out of his ass. are you gonna let him show you up like that ? ” she grins, as she pushes the sunglasses from the bridge of her nose, tousling dark locks with a strike of red. her thumb reaching forward to the corner of his lip, brushing against the pink gloss that sparkles under the lights, and swipes it down his chin. “ it’s cute, but totally not your color , ” she comments, and the mirth swims freely in newly revealed emerald hues before she lets a laugh sweep out of her, “ all for the sake of the free the nipple movement, hm ? i’ll sign off on letting you use my picasso-esque-tits-and-wrists picture during your next rally if you promise you won’t ever call me baby girl ever again . ” her tone is teasing before she’s lifting her cup again, letting her lips flirt against the rim as she takes another sip.
Having ventured through almost every room, Ande has retired back to the makeshift bar with rosy flushed cheeks from not only pre-gaming, but the copious amounts of beer they’ve been consuming throughout the night as well. Watching the undergrad students and disgusting frat boys and sorority sisters that’ve seemed to take over from the more artistic crowd that’d been more present when things first began. With a judgmental presence toward the chaos ensuing, they finally turn to face the woman at their side, brow quirked. “Oh, we could crush them. There’s no doubt in that.” Ande slurs a bit. ”Oh, sweetheart… I’d love nothing more than to have the honor…”
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she swirls her drink, mixing the concoction into something poisonous as a smirk flits onto her lips, looking over at her newest partner, “ that’s the fuckin spirit ! ” she muses, taking a sip of her drink - the way their words slur together, she can tell they’re both near the same level - which truth be told, even with an eye closed and her fingers crossed - she doesn’t know how good her aim is gonna be. the bottle of vodka she’d used to make her drink is still in her hands and without warning she pours a little into their cup, before knocking hers against theirs in a sudden cheers, “ ideas for team names ? preferably something that’ll bring out alpha dick omega’s roid rage out ? ”
she’s inherited a pair of bright red sunglasses from whoever left them for her in the bathroom, the blue streak of paint across one of the lens’ is her personal touch. it matches the blue that resides in her hair from when her entire figure had been outlined on one of the canvases in the pollock room. she’s a blur of golden chaos as she makes her way through room-to-room, polishing a drink and leaving a bright red kiss on her chosen masterpiece before drifting into the next room. she’s refilling a red cup at a makeshift bar, behind her a group of frat-like boys have taken campbell soup cans and have turned them into a game of beer pong. she takes a sip of her drink, turning to the person beside her, “ what do you say - ” she tosses a look over her shoulder, before she looks back at them with a smile , “ think we can beat chad, brad and their dad in a game ? if we win, i’ll let you replace my tits with any body part you want in the picasso photobooth . ” @radopens
Stretched across a beanbag - Ducky hadn’t been sure how long ago it’d been since he’d first joined the room, eyes glazing past the sunflowers that surrounded him and sticking to the painting overhead, instead. Someone had thought to mimic Starry Night on the ceiling - the stars pulsated, colors swirled - he thought he could name constellations in the painting, like there’d been any to begin with. “That one’s, fucking … Cassiopeia,” he pointed up, towards nothing, head half-hanging off the beanbag and body sunken in - his perception skewed, “She uh - was a queen, once. Got strung up with the stars as punishment, though - fucking … pissed Poseidon off, or whatever. Big fucking ego.”
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there’s a joint perched between her lips, sparking the room cherry red as she waits for the joint to catch. a thin veil of grey starts to dance away from her as she inhales, green orbs darting towards the painting - she doesn’t see what he sees - not yet, anyways but she goes along with it anyway. “ never really got why that was punishment , ” she murmurs pausing to take another hit, “ think i’d rather be immortalised to the stars, than have to deal with poseidon and zeus. ” she holds out the joint in offering, “ --- ‘sides, i’d rather rule the stars than heaven or the waters or hell. all mortals admire the stars but they fear the others. - it’s why they envy us. the gods. we’ve got things to fear and lose. ” the words tumble out without much of a thought, her eyes drifting to the male for a few beats before it’s back onto the art piece, “ you think this painting’s overrated ? ”
philly hung from the mouth of the dinosaur model like she’d been crushed beneath its’ teeth, limbs sticking out from between tooth gaps like the bars of a cage - that’s what the mouth had felt like; a cage. it hadn’t been a particularly large exhibit - only eight feet tall - but she still had managed to find herself stuck between jaw. hardly minded it, though - felt natural, almost, like every time she’d gotten stuck on a tree’s branches. “hello,” she greeted a passerby, bent upside down - secure in the dinosaur’s mouth and narrowly avoiding tooth against spine, “it seems i’ve gotten very stuck. do you have a drink on you? i’m quite parched.”
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the warehouse and it’s different rooms reminded her of the coney island fun house she’d visited all those years ago. different rooms inspired different reactions, minds being captured and enthralled by different objects, while others were completely disregarded and ignored for more eye-catching points in the room. the dinosaur model hadn’t particularly piqued the girl’s interest, her eyes stopping on the scales for only a few beats before she continues walking, eyes darting away. a voice, airy and effervescent causes her head to tilt up, standing right below the dinosaur, she spots the tiny girl perched between teeth. “ you look like you’re part of the display. ” she comments as she starts lifting the infamous solo cup towards her, “ i’ll get you another one if you guess what the secret ingredient is. ”
He’s a bit disappointed at the lack of an Andy Warhol themed room at the party, as he was fully expecting to drunkenly stomp around it with Clark chanting SOUP! SOUP! SOUP! So, of course, they’d opted for the Kusami room instead, and ended up tiring themselves out pretty quickly. He’s graduated to the corner and is now taking an incredibly long sip of his drink, and he only notices someone else’s eyes on him when the contents of the cup begin dribbling down his chin, because he’s at that point in the evening. “…I meant to do that.” (@radopens·)
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she can practically feel the bass pulsating through her veins, drumming to the beat of whatever gaudy song spins around the room. she feels like she’s in the dead-set centre of the room, the world spinning around her as her hands lift to the crystal and disco ball encrusted ceiling, reaching for them but like many things, they’re so incredibly out of her grasp. pupils practically the size of saucers, swivel away and dance across the room, admiring the shiny objects that cut across the room, forming shadows and lights across people’s faces. she pauses on the male in front of her, words echoing from his lips and spinning in her direction, eyebrows knitting together before she lets a laugh teeter out. “ on purpose. on purpose. ” the words repeat themselves as she steps closer to him, “ nothing in this whole place is totally on purpose. that’s art, isn’t it ? ” there’s a toothy grin that takes over her features, “ you - my dribbling lightweight - should own the art that you just committed. ” a finger pokes lightly on the color that now decorates his shirt, “ add to this with some paint, or something. make it look like it was on purpose . ”
It was a completely typical scene ― Brady sitting at the corner table in the cafe with his second (or third, maybe fourth) coffee, hunched over his open laptop with terrible posture. He was never quite as serious as he was about his videos. It was all too easy for him to lose track of time and end up spending an entire day in the same spot, perfecting his work. Except this time in particular, he just couldn’t seem to get it right. He’d been revising and editing the same section of the video for so long it was starting to make his eyes hurt. He felt like he needed a second opinion before he just deleted the whole thing and restarted. He looked up to the nearest occupied table and nodded in their direction. “Hey, would you maybe wanna come look at this?” He gestured toward his laptop screen. “Trying to edit somethin’ for my class and I need to know if it sucks as much as I think it does.” @radopens
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he was zoned in , tucked himself into his own little world of - she knew the look . it was the one where the rest of the world blurred into background noise , the minutes and hours ticked by without realising , the day escaping as the art you can’t step away from aches to be perfected . she was about to interject herself into his world , iced coffee in hand but just as steps away from her the counter with her drink , she hears him call out to someone else . there’s a teasing roll of her eyes as she moves to stand between the tables , blocking the other from answering , “ what the fuck , brady . i’m LITERALLY right here and you’re going to ask someone who probably has a NAKED eye and can’t see your vision ? ” as each passing syllable teeters out , her lips flare into a grin, pausing to take sip of her drink , “ give me a SUMMARY of the video in THREE words and i’ll tell you whether it sucks or not, WITHOUT even having to watch it . ”
at the other’s critique he looked over himself, noting that maybe he didn’t look like the most fun. it’s not his fault he thought that a business casual look was appropriate for this evening, he was trying to look fun and professional, like a cool game show host. he guessed that it wasn’t received as well as he’d hoped. “i’d like to say i’m more fun than i look, just so you know.” he defended, now suddenly a lot more self conscious than other people rejecting him over and over could ever make him. “uh, well there id this poetry night at this lounge and i am trying to get others interested.” wow, who knew one small criticism and suddenly his whole life is in question., and here he went, thinking he was so secure in himself and his abilities. “uh, no flash photography though!” he jokes, noticing the piece of equipment around her neck. “you’re super welcome to come though. we are hoping to foster an environment of acceptance and understanding, as well as cheap alcohol. if that’s your type of thing?”
“ is that so ? ” her head tilts to the side slightly , green hues dancing around the boy’s features , mirth coating her tone; she can tell her words or maybe her sudden presence has affected him , knocked him off balance . “ you’re giving me some young pastor vibes . . . but PROVE IT - tell me what kind of FUN you got yourself into last weekend ? ” shaped brows lift in question , offering her attention. “ you should have STARTED with cheap alcohol . you’re on a college campus , that’s practically the universal PASSWORD for getting everyone to come out . ” there’s a light breeze that sweeps by them and axel steadies her camera around her neck , “ are YOU getting up to read something ? ” she hardly pauses to let him answer , before her next question comes spinning out , “ ---- if i recited the INFAMOUS jesus died for our cyn-thi-as slam poetry reading , on a scale of one to ten , how WELL would it be received ? ”
kymani had been bothering people for the last hour. well, bothering was harsh, but probably correct. he had promised the owner of a local cafe he’d bring some people to a poetry slam, an honorable thought, no doubt, people weren’t really responding as nicely as he had hoped though. what, were they too good to listen to young adults complain about the world? what could be a better way to spend a saturday night? he mustered what felt like the last bit of positivity he had as he approached yet another innocent student just trying to walk on campus. “you look like you know about a good time! what are you doing tonight?” he asked, in all fairness, probably getting a little too close to the other student before they slipped away from him. damn, another one bites the dust. @radopens·
in a world that spun and spun and spun far too fast for axel to find her footing, it seemed to slow down just a fraction when she was looking at it through the tiny viewfinder of a minolta x-370. standing on a wrought iron bench, eyes hidden from the world - one shut tight and the other focused on finding what others would normally overlook . the shutter is quick , barely making a sound but it captures the perfect moment of rejection , annoyance and maybe a touch of defeat as she lets a smile overtake her features , amusement being verified by the sound that tumbles out of her lips . she hops down from the bench , walking up to the male , the camera slings from her neck and moves with fluidity with her with every step she takes , “ you look the complete OPPOSITE of a good time , more like . . . . those guys who try to HUSTLE you into buying shitty hair products in the middle of the mall . ” her head crooks to the side slightly , taking the male in , “ i’ll PLAY a little , though -- tell me , what am i doing TONIGHT ? ”
A Strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.
Francoise Sagan, from Bonjour Tristesse (via watchoutforintellect)
hllo demons n space cowboys !! i’m sage comin 2 u live frm the est tz with a v red dash icon tht i can’t be bothered to change atm . anyways , shimmies shoulders im v v excited to be here with my child axel so let me just diiiiive right into her ! pls hit me up or spank tht lil heart if you’d like to plot and i’ll come runnin.
「charlotte d’alessio & cisfemale」⇾ medici , axel, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a scorpio and 20 years old. she is studying fine arts & photography, living in noland and can be passionate, magnetic, heedless & addictive. when i see her i am reminded of catfishing passport photos, shoplifting out of pure boredom & empty film canisters used as pill holders . ⇽
alrite first things first HERE is her pinterest , feel free to skip all the junk below & just vibe check her
BACKGROUND
born & raised in southlake, tx to oliver & pearl medici
they were high school sweethearts who were voted most likely to get married and have a dozen kids running around
they stopped at 2 bc they just .. their kids were a handful . . . but axel will tell you they stopped after her bc they hit perfection :~)
the medici’s come from a long line of politicians & are all associated with the political world in one form or another
her father dreamt of becoming president & honestly was beginning to climb his way there
started off by getting elected as mayor & then from mayor went onto join the state’s senate & was working on his campaign for governor of tx
axel & her older brother adored their father & played their part , knowing that even the smallest mistake cld wreck their dad’s way to the top... even if it didn’t matter now, if he were to run his presidential campaign they would surely be digging for anything to take him down . aside frm some partying & drinking , they never did anything too too wild
her brother ended up going to yale for college, not wanting to be too far from him but wanting a break from her parents & texas , axel applied to radcliffe bc she knew the ivy life wasn’t for her
and something about radcliffe’s history drew her in
last year right before midterms , axel got a phone call tht turned her world upside down . her dad had gotten into a car accident. after getting rushed to the ER, he ended up dying from complications in surgery. he was in the early stages of his campaign for governor & was on his way to meet his team.
it was ruled as an accident & that seemed to be that on that. & everyone went ahead and moved on with their lives
axel still wants to believe that there was foul play in her father’s death mainly bc she wants to blame someone
frm her eyes her mom n brother have healed without any trouble. her brother had gone back to school, graduated from yale and jetted off to south africa with his new gf where they were working for a non profit . her mom had started dating someone new within six months.
PERSONALITY
the whole thing has taken an impact on her n she’s just ... a lot more darker or wilder nw. think bradley martin frm bates motel or marissa cooper frm the oc
was probably head of social committee and heavily involved in the school. was also a cheerleader but went to practice high as balls one too many times , and eventually got kicked off the team.
lost a bet & graffiti’d the school building , got ratted out and spent a month of her summer doing community service and picking up trash.
if you knew her during freshman year and half of sophomore year , she is probably a completely different person nw.
pops xanax like they’re vitamins , is constantly day drunk , always has a flask hidden in a designer purse. has low key developed a little bit of a coke habit
rly good at putting on a facade of perfection when she needs to but truly feels like she has nothing left to lose so she says whatever pops into her mind, likes to stir up trouble when she’s bored n has rly just turned into a firecracker n is jus kinda.. ruthless nw
wld hit on someone’s dad out of pure boredom
uses sex as an outlet to feel in control, to feel good , to feel wanted
only thing that she’s still passionate about is art and photography .
photography inspo is probably sarahbahbah , where she likes to shoot things in series with a film vibe to it.
catch her walking around with hints of paint on her hands , not sleeping bc she’s trying to perfect her latest piece
always sketching or doodling , probably has a film camera slung around her neck or dangling frm her wrist
human embodiment of the cherry & wilted rose emoji
big on skin care and doing face masks and only says ‘self love’ ironically. usually after she spins herself into chaos
big aesthetic would b phoebe tonkin lookin sad and depressed at the farmer’s market carrying around flowers
ok that is all i got .... ty for prowling thru this if u did. also she is a fairly new muse of mine so if ... she ends up changing once she hits the dash MIND UR BUSINESS alskslks jkkk
WANTED CONNECTIONS
we love angst & fictional toxicity over here! hit me w any & all of ur toxic wcs
a good influence for her
someone who she used to be bff’s with but shut them out when everything went down and now it’s just ... awkward between them
someone who she didn’t get along with before but now they’re pals
unlikely friends!
a ride or die friendship
a confidant .. hit me with those 12 am late night heart to hearts with no filter NO CAP!
someone who ratted her out for vandalizing
hook ups wld be fun ! tinder matches, one night stands etc.
someone who axel just completely fucked over in some way (romantic or platonic)
truly anything i am dwn for ! thnk u and good night
fucked a boy because i wanted to write a poem about him. drove my car into a tree because i wanted to see if i could taste god. threw up in the toilet because i wanted to get the dead feeling out of me. i’m doing things i’m not proud of, i know, i had people tell me this as they pressed their lips to my skin, dragged me out of fires, held my hair out of my face. do i like ruining myself? no (that’s a lie) yes (that’s also a lie) maybe i just do things for the sake of doings; maybe i’m the car crash and i wasn’t meant to be saved. i’m not trying to sound melodramatic here, do not listen to the doctor. she thinks i need help. i take a lollipop from her desk. i put my fist through a wall. my knuckles have bruises for a week and two days, i remember that because the boy i slept with says i look like i’ve been in a fight and i tell him, yeah with myself. we’re sitting on the floor of his bedroom. boys never shut their blinds properly so there’s a sliver of the moonlight coming through and i want to grab onto it. i kiss him instead, hard enough to make my lip bleed. jane is getting tired of me and says why can’t you help yourself. i don’t know mum i don’t know but tell me when you find out.
