Lily Rose out in New York, September 17.

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@nicolettebeaumont
Lily Rose out in New York, September 17.
hugoraffertyâ:
He didnât want to be a downer, but sometimes he got stuck on a thought and played it over and over and over. It was a natural reaction derived from how little his parents seemed to care. He felt the need to overcompensate by caring so much about every little detail. Hugo tried to put on a brave face for Nicolette. He was worried heâd scare her away, and that was the last thing he ever wanted. Heâd gotten used to having her around, bringing a comforting presence to his life that he didnât want to lose. It was like she had x-ray eyes and could see right through him. It was hard for him to feel so exposed, but it felt freeing to know that she still wanted to be around him. âYeah, why not?â He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. âIâve hardly seen the world.â Turning towards her, a teasing smile curving his lips, he said, âcan we please go to France?â Already, he could feel himself starting to relax. He kicked his feet up and down, trying not to make large splashes. âLife. The usual. A change. I donât know.âÂ
aspects of hugo reminded her of a little boy with a toy boat, walking towards a broken lighthouse, but somewhere along the journey heâd lost the boat into the grass, where the wind carried it off the cliff, and it had now grown too late to find his way towards the broken lighthouse or home â now just dwindling around in the dark lost. these were the kinds of things she thought of often, introspective, despite an audacious side to her that kept others on their toes. âwe should jet set off. iâve always wanted to be someoneâs personal daddy warbucks, a real sugar daddy,â she swayed her shoulders and shimmied them, classic nicolette style, much like a child that put on a show for her mother when she was younger. âchange..â the word tasted like honey gold in her mouth, a guilty pleasure. escape, too. âwhen was the last time you had a good adventure?â her voice challenged, brown eyes glancing over towards his blue ones. âi feel like i just got here not too long and iâm itching for escape, you know?â her hands rubbed over her knees, feet paddling at the water, wading. âmaybe iâm just wild like that. my brother always told me i was the wolf of the family, partly because he thinks iâm a runt and another because iâm always on the run,â she confided, honestly, the mention of her brother making her question when the last time it was she properly talked to him over the phone. âyou think youâve got a spirit animal?â a starved dog aching for the touch of an owner?
hugoraffertyâ:
His pants were rolled up to his knees as he sat with his feet in the water. He leaned back on his hands with his face tilted towards the sun. It had been a long day. Heâd taken an exam in his microbiology class, and he felt like he failed. He said that after every test, but this time he had a sinking feeling it was true. Hugo wanted to put it out of his mind and think about something else. He tended to dwell on the little mistakes and play them over and over again his head, overanalyzing everything so he could be better in the future. It wasnât like he could go retake the test, so he had to wait and see. âTell me, Nic ( @nicolettebeaumont ), if you go back to France, will you take me with you?â He didnât look at her as he asked but a smile danced across his face.Â
nicoletteâs feet tapped as if dancing across the ground, like she was twirling to jazz music while sashaying in italy.. far, far away. she could feel an energy of stress in hugo, the look that sat atop his face and muddied his features, kind eyes and a reassuring smile had turned to blank stares off and a blank expression. like two stars, they frequented on different paces shooting through the sky, but they neared and orbited the same ideals and feelings. âyou feeling up for a vacation, rafferty?â her voice hummed, before noticing the slug in his shoulders and how they hung, defeated. she joined him and sat beside him, bare legs dipping into the cool blue of the water. âiâd take you anywhere if you asked nicely enough,â she teased, but the truth in the statement hung like a town announcement, obvious enough that she feared sometimes she wasnât good enough at hiding her own truths â but with hugo she felt like she didnât need to. âwhat are you thinking about?â
hugoraffertyâ:
He found her presence to be a comfort. She wouldnât push him too far or make him talk about anything he didnât want to. They could just exist in their sphere of mutual understanding. âNot even sober,â he repeated, looking her directly in the eye as he spoke. He smiled as she shook the flask. âIâm very proud.â He extended his hand out for a fist bump. âHow much longer do you think thatâs going to last?â He teased. He had gotten used to the lifestyle at Yates, and even if it wasnât one he necessarily indulged in, he didnât fault the others for engaging in it. Hugo pretended to consider Nicoletteâs offer. âThatâs a pretty compelling argument I must admit. Youâve clearly put some thought into this. Why donât you let me try to shoot an apple off your head, and if it goes well, you can do it to me?âÂ
there was an essence of peace that hung around hugoâs shoulders easily, one that nicolette liked to hang around, not taking up too much space but being close enough to admire it. she humored him, giving his larger hand a fist bump before shaking her head, laughing. âcanât say iâve seen enough stupid shit tonight thatâll drive me to drinking, but i did see a drunk girl try to square up with a poorly dressed cowboy and tell him thereâs only room for one sheriff in this town,â she explained casually, shoulders lifting before falling nonchalantly, grinning like a disco ball, âwhich i found highly entertaining actually. she deserves rights. iâve got to admire the confidence.â she felt like herself with hugo, no need to put on any act or try too hard, despite pieces of her that lived only for those reasons. âonly because i trust you, iâd say yes.â an exhale, a release ââ there was a small bit of comfortable silence between the pair. âi bet if we snuck off and left, no one would even notice. iâd be okay leaving, i think. in retrospect, you know?â
neveramseyâ:
âI tried to give a shot to this guy. Completely missed, ending up getting him in the eye. He should have known better than to trust my aim. Bet he has the same issue with cumshots,â she joked lewdly, knocking her thigh against the girlâs, slight British lilt slipping out of her voice as she continued to drink. Pointing the pistol towards her mouth, she squeezed the trigger, liquid sliding down her throat easily as Nic took a drink herself. âAnd I would completely understand. Iâd risk it all for a chance to get laid down in a pile of hay and absolutely railed by a specter of James,â she reassured the girl, feet still kicking back and forth. âYou think any of these people have even seen the cinematic classic Holes starring Shia Labeouf and Sigourney Weaver? I think Sigourney clawing a manâs face off with her nails formed my sexuality,â she stated, holding out a red-painted fingernail, dragging it along the other girlâs cheek to demonstrate. âSomething so intimate about disfiguring someone,â she joked, flashing a smile that showed her canines, letting out a soft laugh. She reached behind her ear, withdrawing a cotton-candy pink colored cigarette. âYou have a lighter? I always end up losing mine. Iâm too generous. Some girl absconded into the night with mine after lighting her Marlboro Gold. Thinking of putting up missing posters.â
it was comforting, tapping thighs together amongst a crowd of people she didnât necessarily know well, far too many she didnât speak to, but having someone that you could share a moment with. âis that the trevor i keep hearing about around campus?â she played along, giddy, the bitter taste of vodka lingering in the sides of her cheek, her tongue poking out to lap in the taste, holding out her hand in a finger gun before pretending to shoot herself down dead at the mention of being railed by james dean. âjesus, neve, was there some kind of american psycho viewing i missed that has you all hot and bothered over being mutilated?â manicured nails held out before nicolette fanned at the blonde dramatically, draping a leg over the other as it hung from the fence. at the mention of a lighter, she fished for her own that was tucked into her white cowboy boot, hidden where she knew even if she had gotten far too drunk, it was a reliable spot. âif you let me share your pink cigarette, itâs a fair deal. the night is still young, my lighter is far too enticing, look-â she pointed out the botticelli angel that detailed the lighter, âso carpe diem.â
harrisonhadleeâ:
          He was leaned against the fence, watching, and it appeared there was actually a few horses dwelling the grounds. Either that or they were brought in and being circled for show, and while he pitied them in a way he couldnât seem to help but watch. They were truly majestic, and heâd only seen them in action once or twice, but it was when he was a boy and memory had never been exactly favorable. Suddenly pulled from his speculating he felt the fence gentle rattle beneath his hands, and he turned his head to see that someone had sat atop it beside him. A girl. New? He hadnât seen her face before, but she wore it with a smile, and as he stood up, taking a step back he looked up at it. He blinked, trying to discern any sarcasm that may have made itself to her lips. Hypothetically. Well, hypothetically, no, he would never, but he didnât have the heart to outwardly âshootâ her down himself, so he merely smiled, lightly laughing and shaking his head, âWith what?â He inquired, stepping back up to the fence, growing comfortable, âAre we talking a gun, or are we thinking more William Tell,â A corner of his mouth tugged up, and he thought of the time heâd handled one himself not too long ago, ââlike with a crossbow.â
nicoletteâs eyes scanned over the taller boy, brunette and not too offensively dressed, unlike one of the drunkards that had run past her with just a mini cowboy hat over his dick. âi was thinking bb gun, but if youâre feeling zombie apocalypse inspired, i could resort to traditional things such as a crossbow,â she reassured him, eyes complicit in an act of boredom before she pointed towards the bullseye that sat beyond them and the fence. âi watched the hunger games on a red eye to france one time, so if it came down to it, i think i could manage,â she teased, a hint of a tongue peaking out between porcelain teeth, a lighthearted gleam to her tone of voice. everyone congregated in separate groups mostly drunk or on something, herself and the stranger included, so their conversation felt comfortable enough to discuss nonsense. âwhoâs to say i wonât be the next katniss everdeen?â
holbrooktmâ:
adam was loving everything about this trip. it reminded him of home, minus all the shit he hated about home. he could be more himself, less pretending to be some stuffy richy rich asshole, and it just looked like he was blending in like a champ here. he was drinking a bottle of corona and had grabbed a spare out of the cooler so he didnât have to come back for a refill right away. he glanced at the empty in his hand as nicolete spoke, a toothy grin forming on his face.  âuh, let me think.â he did something heâd always wanted to try â using his belt buckle to open his beer bottle â and watched the cap hit the earth.  âlemme finish this. wait. how good are you at a bow and arrow?â still, he tipped the bottle up and took a swig.
nicoletteâs eyes peered in on the way he opened up his corona ââhorrible drinks really, but they got the job doneââ and took a swig of it, looking something out of a movie with his longer hair and his classic western gear. âneat party trick, woody,â she complimented, half charming, half sarcastic, before pretending to tap at her chin as if seriously inquiring her skills with a bow and arrow. âmy skills usually rely on my oppositeâs trust skills. so i guess the real question is how much would you blindly put your faith in me?â most would say no, herself included, but there were few that would surprise her with their answers. her lips formed a small âoâ before pulling her own flask from her bra and taking a swig. âbut if it were you asking me, iâd say no. not sure i trust those who willingly drink corona. tastes like a watered down corn juice to me.â
joshua-buckleyâ:
Joshuaâs head shot up at the mention of a gun, almost as if the very real threat of death was enough to knock him out of his drunken stupor. âA gun!? I thought you were talking about a plastic arrow or something! Shit.â He held his hands up in mock surrender, staring at her incredulously as she mentioned something about orbs. âUh no. Not sure I have the right equipment for catching swirly ghost balls, sadly.â Her grin had him relaxing a little, letting his arms drop to his sides as he cleared his throat.âI was trying to take a photo of the lights. But my exposure was all wrong and itâs too dark for that kind of shot really anyway, so you just saved me from wasting like a dollars worth of film, cheers.â He squinted a little, trying to work out where he recognised her from. âIâm Joshua, by the way. I figure if youâre planning on making me an undead cowboy, youâre going to need a name for the body bag?â
there was a giggly reaction that incited from within her, whether it be that she was reaching a state of tipsiness or that his dramatic reaction took her by surprise. âbb gun,â she promised him, hands lifting to grab at his hands, pulling them down to his sides to reassure him while laughing. her eyes peaked curiously at the camera, nodding as he spoke of equipment and the shots he was taking. âfilm photography? do you develop them yourself?â she inquired curiously, the process reminding her of when she did the same a year or so back in the summer in paris. âi used to work with a gentleman who owned a dark room and heâd let me come and develop my prints.. it was a nice process. i hated how dark it was, even with the red light in there, but iâd just listen to music and.. think. for once.â he had a gentle face, seemed friendly enough, and she was certain now he wasnât in her society. ânicolette,â she outstretched her flask to him, fetched from the lace of her bra, tipping her cowboy hat alongside with it. âvery considerate of you. any special requests for the bag? velvet? silk? any bedazzling needs done to the exterior? i figure if iâm going to be in charge of it, might as well make it worth your while.â
holdvnsâ:
Eyes heavy from lack of sleep, yet somehow still wired from whatever substances heâd managed to ingest that night, Holden made his way back to to his cabin near dawn after engaging in what turned into an all-night poker tournament in somebody elseâs room. Heâd left defeated and owing some finance major thousands of dollars, but that was something to worry about tomorrow. Maybe next week. The more pressing issue at the moment was getting himself into bed and avoiding trouble for a few hours if he could manage. But as his life usually went, it didnât seem like that was going to be in the cards for him. Like a vision of a certain night in Paris in June, there she was somehow still awake. A night that still made its way into his dreams despite his best efforts of forgetting. He had to blink a few times to make sure it was real. âAm I dreaming? I must be dreaming.â Or tripping. He whispered, in an effort not to wake anyone else up as he rubbed at his eyes. Expecting to see someone else when he removed his hands or perhaps no one there at all. But she was still there, a steady spot in his otherwise blurry vision. A reminder of lost things, of what could have been. âNo, you are real. And Iâm delirious.â He nodded to himself before getting an idea. Of course, not thinking it through before ultimately blurting it out. âHey, I think the sunâs gonna rise soon. Wanna go watch it with me?â @nicolettebeaumontâ
so many bodies had came in and out of the cabin that nicolette had stopped lifting her head to greet each one, most out of their mind under the influence of something, most stumbling back outside while trying to maintain some sort of hushed tone to their voice. it wasnât until a familiar voice, a voice so familiar it bit at the exposed skin of her ankle that hung off the bed, beckoning her like a dog. she heard him before she saw him. but then she saw him. it was like a swift punch to the gut ââ the way a face can make you come undone. of all places, here.. of all times, now. but why? âholden,â the name tumbled out like defenses falling down, like a mouth full of honey that was dripping past her lips and down her chin. âi-â her eyes averted to look out the window, the light of the sky was peaking through the cracks of the curtains, all the voices sheâd heard throughout the night now awfully quiet. the blonde didnât question it, despite all the running thoughts in her head, as she followed him out the cabin doors and walked beside him. even next to him, a part of her didnât feel real, like some kind of sleepwalking dream. âwhat are the odds that this is a dream?â her voice asked softly, eyes floating past the horizon as she now let her feet, still adorned in white cowboy boots, lead the way towards the desert. there was a difference in them, the atmosphere, it felt so unknown ââ and she supposed it all made sense. they were two strangers, ultimately. it took a lot in her to not ask more questions, wondering how it all played out like this, how it came down to them being reunited in the strangest way. âdid you ride the bull?â the question was her way of avoiding it, biting back any questions, telling herself it didnât matter much now. she felt light on her feet, maybe from lack of sleep, as she continued to carry herself.
joshua-buckleyâ:
As much as JJ was enjoying his evening, the endless stream of people talking over each other, mixed with loud music, was all becoming a tad much. He just wasnât built to be on all of the time. Eventually heâd managed to sneak away from the majority of the crowds to take some photographs of the grounds. Working with film when heâd had too much to drink almost always resulted in blurred, out of focus images, but he was determined to get a few decent shots tonight. Somehow, heâd ended up precariously balancing on one knee, with his upper body contorting at an angle, as he tried to get a shot of the bright lights surrounding the ranch. He knew that he probably looked ridiculous, with an eye squeezed shut, and his tongue sticking out of his mouth a little as he attempted to focus, completely unaware of how he was swaying, far too merry from the booze. As he was about to press the shutter, he heard the girls question, almost falling over as he turned towards the direction of her voice. âHm, are you asking how many drinks youâd have to get me as payment? Or just how drunk Iâd have to be to agree?â He was being pedantic, but there was nothing new there, a lazy smile etched on his face as he tried to think.Â
nicoletteâs body herself tensed up slightly in reaction to taking the stranger off guard, resulting in a honeyed laugh to fall from her lips. âjesus, sorry,â she offered before she was making herself comfortable, crossing a leg over the other as she sat on the wooden fence. âi was going with the latter, but i suppose itâs only polite to buy you a drink before i possibly take out your eye with a gun,â she considered, pretending to weigh in all consequences of the proposition now, before reaching to adjust the white cowboy hat that adorned her blonde curls. âwhat were you taking a photo of?â she inquired, intrigued partially, perhaps an excuse as to why she struck up a conversation with someone she only vaguely recognized. âcatch any crazy orbs from the undead cowboys?â she asked, a charming smile stitched across her cheeks.
hugoraffertyâ:
He was physically there, but mentally he was thinking about his room back at Yates. It was comfortable and homey. He felt out of his element here, but he was trying to power through. He found a place off to the side. He wanted to think his father wouldnât approve of him being there, but he doubted his father would have an opinion about it at all. He leaned back against the fence, silently resigned to this trip. He hadnât even noticed Nicolette come up, but he turned towards her when she spoke. He raised an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face. âNone. Thereâs nothing that would ever get me to do that. I donât trust your aim.âÂ
nicolette could feel hugoâs thoughts from what seemed like fifteen feet away, before the pair had even come close ââ something about them being in tune, orbiting around each otherâs thoughts like stars. ânot even sober?â she rebuked incredulously, fingers slipping into the lace of her bra to reveal a hidden silver flask she had tucked there earlier. she shook the flask towards his face, emphasizing on the contents inside. âhardly made a dent in my flask, also. are you proud?â she teased, eyes shifting around like an animal that seemed unstable, mentally pacing. âworse comes to worst and i either barely scathe you or i seriously maim you and you get some sort of excuse to leave and avoid socializing. donât say i never did anything for you.â
neveramseyâ:
Shedding glitter with every step she took through the ranch grounds, Neve was already drunk. Although if you were to ask her, prosecco didnât count as really drinking. Hell, her aunt let her little cousin drink it at family functions. didnât count, in her mind. Her vintage cow print skirt had been plucked from a thrift shop the last time she was home in New York, knowing it would come in handy one day. Whenever her cousin visited, more like a sister to her, Cordelia scoffed at the state of Neveâs room, piled high with vintage finds that seemed to burst out of every drawer. She hoisted herself up onto the fence next to Nicolette, blue eyes blinking widely, trying to determine if she was joking or not. âOnly if itâs a water gun,â she said, drawing the fake pistol out of her hip where it was holstered. âYou like it? Found it in a box of free stuff on the street. It was just, calling out to me,â she informed her, beaming wildly, shooting a stream of liquid into the dark night. âItâs full of vodka. Much more fun than a flask,â she said, hopping down, walking over towards the shooting range. âHey, you think anyone ever actually died here? Iâve always wanted to commune with a dead cowboy. Ask him how he died. Maybe even get him to fall in love with me a bit and pledge his loyalty to me.â
there was a scent of alcohol and perfumed sweetness that lifted towards her nose as neve hoisted herself up onto the fence besides her. âwhereâs the fun in that?â she teased, eyes fluttering down to focus on the silver pistol that looked straight out of a halloween costume store, the types that would randomly appear out of nowhere in early september and then disappear just as quickly before christmas rolled around. âshot anybody dead yet with that thing?â her leg lifted to jut against the opposite blondeâs thigh gently, insisting, âif itâs full, iâll be disappointed. iâve hardly got my yeehaw on tonight and this water gun looks like the talk of the town.â her eyes scanned over the party, bodies huddled near each other in congregating groups, few scattered in desolate areas of privacy much like the two blondes. âiâd believe it. this place has an abandoned carnival kind of energy, you know? seems rotten, like a place where dreams die,â she piped up, reaching for her own flask that was tucked into her bra, taking a swig. âbut iâd say if a ghost that looked like james dean in a cowboy hat came and sat next to us, iâd abandon any budding loyalty we have here and go ride into the sunset with him.â
the blonde was more sober than sheâd of liked to of been, but the night was still young and there was a magnetic glow that sat atop her shoulders like a perched bird. she was adorned in classic leviâs, a vintage pair she had found in paris while scouring a secondhand store, a givenchy white button down, and matching cow print boots and cowboy hat. she had taken liberty in exploring the desert grounds herself, finding leather chaps and a saddle hung over a wooden fence that was nearly giving in on one side further down. she made herself comfortable, hoisting up her petite body on the fence that was sturdy enough, clicking her heels together as her legs dangled. âsay, hypothetically, how many drinks would it take for you to let me try shooting an apple off your head?â she asked out to the nearest person, brown eyes already fixating towards the shooting range bullseyeâs that stood past the fence.Â
   NICOLETTE BEAUMONT ... at SILVER SPUR RANCH !
rolls in... hey guys whatâs up my name is fiona iâm from the pst timezone and i have a brand new muse here for u so.. cracks knuckles... letâs wing it!!!!
(LILY ROSE DEPP, CISFEMALE) - Have you seen NICOLETTE BEAUMONT? NIC is in JUNIOR year. The FASHION PRODUCTION MAJOR is 20 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say SHE is LIVELY, ALLURING, FLIGHTY and RESTLESS. Rumors say theyâre a member of CALLOWAY SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE LEFT STUDYING IN FRANCE TO ATTEND YATES IN A LAST (FAILED) ATTEMPT TO IMPRESS HER MOM.Â