attracted to chaos -- closed.

[Vivenne Cole]

There was an odd quiet sense in the way that Vivenne was thinking. She didn't have anywhere to be-- it was midnight. She didn't have anyone to be with-- all her friends were at some party. Oh, she could have gone with them, but the idea of screaming and falling over themselves drunks was not appealing in the least. Still, perhaps she could have done with a little atmosphere. Instead, she had a book. A muggle book, ridiculous, but still good. T.S. Eliot. He was a poet. His words held an insane amount of his charisma, Viv was slightly jealous. She was terrible at poetry. She was terrible at writing in general. Art was her thing. Sculpting, painting, drawing, you name it. Some she wasn't so good at, but others she was utterly amazing. She even knew that herself. She admitted that, there was a certain artistic ego that disallowed for false modesty. Not that she was the type to have false modesty.

Perhaps about vain things, her looks. She knew she was pretty. She was the daughter of a model for godsakes. Her long dark hair, with a slightly italian skin tone, high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, Viv was indeed pretty. As for her personality, she simply didn't care. She said what she thought, did what she wanted to, that sort of thing. The only control she exerted was of herself-- refusal to eat like a nasty pig, and control over her surroundings-- she refused to have any part of her room messy.

And she never allowed herself to be out of her own control. If she did something, she did it with a full mind. If she hooked up with someone, it wasn't stoned or drunken. It was fully her decision. She would never allow herself to drink, not a drop.

Glancing back into her book, she read the following words aloud, her full lips slowly forming each syllable, giving it meaning and complete understanding.

"'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
'I never know what you are thinking. Think.' "

Smiling to herself, she repeated the last bit of the stanza. "Stay with me...? How pathetic... and needy." Oh lord, no one wanted to stay with her. And that was just how she liked it. She didn't like people-- or so she tried to convince herself. In the end they disappoint, it was human nature.

Yes, she was indeed talking to herself. As strange as that might be, she felt completely comfortable in doing so. Even when she was potentially in earshot of someone.

[Jude Sinclair]

Though he'd begun to socialize a bit with Serena, in truth, Jude was still quite the loner. He had the respect of a prefect, the admiration a quiddich seeker possessed, and yet he just didn't tend to like people. The seventh year boy found trust and interest were fleeting things and so few people were up to par. In truth, he had no patience for idiocy, and even less for those he found undesirable.

The midnight hour was his favorite time of day. His secret family heritage assured he preferred the night most of all. During those hours, when the rest of his house slept or snuck out to party, he sat and read, or ventured into his arts and music. It was only on occasion that he found a private place to indulge in them, without annoying little first and second years running around. Or people nosing into his business. The one exception being Sarena, because he found he liked her company the couple of times he'd had it.

In any case, he ventured into the common room; his violin case shrunken and stuffed away in his pocket with intent to be used. A book with an old leather binding in hand, just in case he found someone in the room because he truly didn't want to draw attention to his talents. He was possessive of them, even here, out of habit. Because at home, his father would have cast the crucio on him for indulging in something so trivulous. That, yet another secret he kept.

But he found the room wasn't empty, and a breath left him. Though his head canted to the side at the bit of poetry the girl read. Then, after a moment, he began to seak out his favorite seat near a window where he could read in peace since the room was occupied and not even a silencio would have kept his activities private.

[Vivenne Cole]

For some reason, Viv felt a sudden feeling of loneliness. It was probably the poetry getting to her. Eliot like to use words that concentrated a great deal of emotion. You might thinkg hat her part veela heritage would make her close to everyone-- since many found her to be physically attractive. But honestly, it created even a bigger barrier than her purposeful rudeness and bluntness. She guessed it was a good thing. Kept people away, she told her self with a grim smile. At the sound of the common room porthole open, she frowned. Who would be coming in at such a late hour? She had no earthly idea, but was willing to find out. She was feeling far too strange to be alone. Viv ended up doing stupid things when she was by herself. For example, she had previously wandered into the forest by herself at around three in the morning. She had no idea what made her do such things, but it was good to prevent them.

Running a hand through her long brown hair, she eyed the boy that had just come in. He looked like a good antidote to her boredom. Afixing a tiny hint of a smile to her lips, she pushed herself to a sitting position that was more comfortable. "Care to join me over here? It's a bit too quiet." The first bit sounded seductive. The second... she sounded a bit like the weakness that she was feeling. To be sure that he didn't get the wrong idea about her, to think that she was weak, she lifted her lips to a more mysterious half smile, bright blue eyes partially lidded and looking towards him from under her thick black lashes.

[Jude Sinclair]

His gaze flickered up from the book to focus on the girl that had just spoken to me. Intense, that gaze. An amber bright enough it borderlined on gold or honey held to sunlight, yet filled with the promise of shadows and darkness. And then the sardonic little twist he gave his lips whenever he spoke to anyone occured; a slow slide that hinted at none of what he thought. At least right off the bat.

"Your the one wanting a cure for the silence..." He drawled out; his voice carrying the elloquent twang of cajun and french that came from being born in New Orleans in a home that spoke primarily French. "Why don't you come over here, if your wanting company?" A dark sable brow rose, while his head tilted to the side absentmindedly, as if he were waiting to see if she'd come.

In truth, had she not said something, he would have sat in quiet. He didn't approach others, and he didn't come when called. So as enticing as an offer it was, if she wanted companionship, she'd have to come and get it. Jude wasn't ignorant of the fact, she merely sought a fix for her boredom. Otherwise, she probably wouldn't have spoken to him at all.

[Vivenne Cole]

"Your the one wanting a cure for the silence..." Mm, the boy had confidence to speak to her like that, and Viv certainly liked that. Her smile widened to accompany a bit of amusement at his terms. His accent was endearing, she could almost hear a hint of another language-- one that she spoke a little of. Why don't you come over here, if your wanting company?" She might have been obnoxious and insist that he come to her, but since she had wanted him in the first place to spend time with her. "You have a point, so I suppose i'll have to cede, charmeur." The address rolled off her tongue, lingering so that it contained a genuine French sound to it. Her accent wasn't quite as apparent as his, but she did indeed still have one from her stay in Paris as a child. Also, dear Mum usually spoke french Viv, just to try to teach her the language of her ancestors. Lynette didn't like that her daughter resembled more italian like Viv's father, than french like her mother.

Sauntering over, she swung her hips in her usual hypnotizing fashion, her gait completely even. The confident smirk that she usually applied was afixed to her lips, and she slowly lowered herself into an ajoining chair a few feet away from his. Crossing her legs in a distracting way, she tilted her head at him. Speaking again, traces of her accent leaked their way into her speech. "I feel as if I have met you before--" Smiling in an amused fashion, she bit her lip, and appraised him again. Truly, she did. "Wow, that sounds so cliche." Lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow, she smiled in a self deprecating manner. "Truly." Shrugging her thin shoulders, she gave up on trying to place his name to his face. "I'm Vivenne, since I don't quite think we've met, though I do recognize you.."

[Jude Sinclair]

She could have insisted he come to her, but would have been sorely disappointed. Jude wasn't anyone's call boy and had she been obnoxious enough to demand it, he very well would have laughed at her, then returned to reading. As it were, she didn't, so things were good and well. Especially since she was agreeing to come his way. There were quite a few similarities between them if they got down to it. His mother had been Italian, his father French. He was as much a loner as she was, and if he were to admit it, he might even say he was a bit bored. But he wouldn't say that, not out loud.

She sat near him, and unfortunately, he wasn't quite as easily distracted as other boys because he merely gave the way she sat no notice what so ever. Nor had he paid any mind to the sway of her hips, and the apparent seduction she was trying to cast. His disarming, near golden gaze slid toward her once more for a moment, "Its horribly cliche." He agreed, arching his brow at what she'd said. Most people used it for a cheap pickup line. But she seemed to know that and he didn't have the urge to point that out.

"I'm Jude." He answered, studying her. She was familar, but then, he'd always gone to school here. Even if he hadn't ever been close to anyone. "We've probably always been in class together..." How else would they know one another? He doubted she knew his father, most didn't personally, despite his family being something of a bunch of socialites. Thus they couldn't have met outside of school.

[Vivenne Cole]

"We've probably always been in class together..." That made more sense. Viv was imagining that she had met him, perhaps he was the son of someone acquainted with her mother-- or perhaps even with her father. "Probably." She nodded with a soft smile. Well, perhaps not with a soft smile. She didn't to anything that was soft. Not in the dirty sense, but she simply wasn't usually relaxed enough to feel comfortable with someone. And he was certainly no exception. But she was perfectly good at bringing up a facade of relaxation, of comfort. The girl was a very, very good actress.

Looking at him again, she realized that his eyes were golden. Gazing into them for nearly a second to long, she offered a slight smile. Then came the attempt to start a conversation. She might expect him to come up with something witty, but to be quite honest, it was her that had invited herself over her. No need to assume. Biting her lip thoughtfully, she offered a question, propelled by genuine curiousity. "What brings you to the common room?" She looked down at the book in her lap, then gently placed it on the floor, it's worn cover making nearly no sound as it hit the marble floor. "I figured most of the students in the house would be getting trashed, perhaps making out with someone of whose name they can't remember." Chuckling, she offered a cynical smile at the thought. She didn't mind the making out part, she had partook of that previously. The drinking thing... Viv shuddered. Well, she simply didn't like the drinking thing.

[Jude Sinclair]

Jude didn't pretend or act. He saw little point in hiding how he felt about things, particularly about being around other people. The dark haired wizard relaxed because he wanted to, and there wasn't more to it than that. If there was a threat that came because he was relaxed, he could react very easily, and would. At the moment however, there wasn't anything to worry about.

"I'm in here because its quiet..." He shrugged, "And I don't have to put up with anything stupid..." Meaning a bunch of blathering little first years. Jude couldn't stand immaturity and idiocy. Long fingers ruffled through his dark hair gently, as he gave a long leisurely stretch. "What about you? Why are you down here and not off somewhere?" His own question was returned with an arch of his brows.

As for making out? Well that was neither here nor there. Perhaps he would and perhaps he wouldn't if someone took his interest; to be honest kissing was a bit to intimate and he'd rather play around without it.

[Vivenne Cole]

He spoke, and Viv listened, her eyes blinking shut for a moment, finding it difficult to look anywhere but his eyes. Was that weird? Probably. "And I don't have to put up with anything stupid..." She nodded, understanding completely. Last time she had been to a party, several people had passed out in her dorm room, since her roommate was the biggest partier in the house. Needless to say, she had no idea why she even allowed it. Perhaps it was for the sake of peace in the dorm, though she had never been such a great advocate for peace previously. That probably had to do with the fact that when she slept, she was completely and utterly defenseless. No need to start fights when put in a situation that could end badly for you when you were trying to sleep.

Viv watched him stretch, her blue eyes somewhat engaging, somewhat neutral. The movement was very catlike, and Viv found herself hiding a small smile behind a lithe hand. "What about you? Why are you down here and not off somewhere?" Good question. She had no idea what to answer it with. "I wanted the quiet. Didn't want to be part of that crazy scene for once." She wrinkled her brow, unsure as to how to explain herself clearly. "But I soon realized that it was a little bit.. too much quiet." Viv was perfectly fine with being alone, but for some reason, her mood didn't allow for solidarity.

"Which is why I am so very glad to see you," She offered a slight smile-- one that was almost genuine. (something that was rare for viv) "Because too much quiet is bad for a person, or so I've heard." She arched a brow, thought about her words, then reiterated. "Then again.. When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain. Or so the great muggle playwrite says." She wouldn't quite remember that quote unless she had read it recently. Shakespear, while quite articulate, was also very verbose, and his words could sometimes be repetitive. Her eyes looked unfocused as she struggled to remember the context of the quote.

[Jude Sinclair]

He could never tolerate stupidity in anyone. Nor for that matter, could he tolerate any mess what so over. Jude was more than a bit OCD and possessive of his belongings. Enough so that he bespelled everything that was his in the dorm so it couldn't be touched. Admittedly, he did go to parties. Had done that whole scene a countless number of times over, though generally where he went...other students either wouldn't or couldn't wander. And as it was, alcohol didn't generally effect him, so if he drunk it, it was for the taste rather than what people normally drunk for. It was something else that seemed to run in his family.

"I don't think there's such a thing as to much quiet..." He mused, and canted his head to the side. Another feline action; he might have taken it as a compliment had she mentioned he had cat like habits. He liked cats; had one even lurking around here somewhere that he'd named Bedlam. Bed, for short. "But to each there own..." Jude's shoulders slid into a leisurely shrugg, before he tugged his fingers through his wild hair, and habitually ran the ring in his mouth up against his teeth.

Her allusion to Shakespeare peaked his interest however. He loved literature, and he loved plays. This was no differant. It helped that he knew what she was talking about.
"When words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain. For they breath truth that breathe there words in pain. From Shakespear's play, Richard II, quote by John of Gaunt to Edmund of Langley in Act II." His head tilted back, and his eyes slid shut a moment, silence falling between them.

And then, it was broken, "Do you like Shakespeare?" He asked, curiosity touching his voice. "And other forms of art?"

[Vivenne Cole]

"I don't think there's such a thing as to much quiet..." Viv quite disagreed, but didn't feel the need to voice her opposition. Too much quiet was running off, getting lost, when you were seven because your mother is too much of an idiotic drunk and chewed you out for looking younger than her. It was pathetic and completely ridiculous on Lynette's part, stupid and pathetic. And Viv loathed her for it, completely hated her for being so petty. But she wouldn't bother telling anyone about that-- no one would care. It wasn't a horrible interesting topic that people were horrified, but completely curious. And if she did have a past like that-- she would never, ever tell anyone about it. The boy's voice.. Jude, was his name, startled her out of her reverie. "But to each there own..." Again she nodded, this time she agreed. People could believe whatever the hell they wanted to. And she believed that vanity was a terrible, terrible thing. But then again, she used to be, years ago, inordinately obsessed with her mother's opinion of her looks-- as if it might gain her acceptance.

"When words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain. For they breath truth that breathe there words in pain. From Shakespeare's play, Richard II, quote by John of Gaunt to Edmund of Langley in Act II." At this, her lips curved up into a smile. A real one. She loved old literature. Dante's journey to hell, Hamlet's insanity, even the character of the merchant of venice. It was all so interesting, how a character could be written about long ago, and people today could still have similar characteristics. It just showed how human nature and instinct still guided how people acted. "He that no more must say is listened more. Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose." That was all she knew of the quote. "Yes indeed," there was pleasure at the recognition of her quote, and an actual smile had slipped onto her lips. Wow, that was rare.

"Shakespeare? Yes. Very much so. Literature is so incredibly interesting... I just wish people still talked like that." She blinked contently, and relaxed her shoulders, so that she was leaning on the back of the chair a bit more. "Art..." She seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then focused her bright blue eyes on him, with a bit of an odd curve of her lips. "Yes, art. I sculpt, I paint, I draw." She laughed without humor, mentally reflecting on her obsessions. "I love to paint the human form," she smiled wickedly at him. Her eyes alit with amusement, she returned the question. "How about you?"

[Jude Sinclair]

He liked quiet, for a very simple reason. When there was quiet, his father wasn't hovering over him. It came without condescending sneers and snapped out curses. There wasn't a cruel biting tongue there to point out his inadequecies or the fact that, other than his eyes, he resembled his mother a great deal. No, he liked quiet, because it meant he was left alone. Jude hated his father, in more ways than anyone could ever possibly understand.

The fact that he knew the quote pleased her. It said so in the beautiful smile her features lit up in; one, that he found privately far more pleasing than the expression she bore previously. And the fact that she relaxed, perhaps helped him to do so as well. Enough, that he became willing, even, to discuss further on there current topic. And if it wasn't obvious that he was interested in what they were speaking of, a smile curved his mouth; a slow unconcious tug that even brought a dimple chasing into his cheek. Endearing in its quality, and far to handsome for its own good. It was an exceptionally rare expression, very few got to see.

"It would be nice if they did..." He agreed, thinking about how it might be if everyone talked as they did in shakespeare. If everyone possessed that age old elloquence that had died out with all the modern slang floating around. A real pity, that. Jude shifted now, his book settled more off to the side so that he faced her further. The question was returned, and for once, he didn't mind speaking about himself.

"I paint and draw..." He admitted, and by the flicker of his gaze, it was obviously a secret he held dear. "And I'm into music...I play....." His art was how he expressed himself, even if he generally had to hide it. Not because he worried about anyone here, it just wasn't looked at favorably at home. And while, the rebellious side of him wanted to sneer and go about it anyway, the other part of him enjoyed having his secrets.

[Vivenne Cole]

Viv watched his features when she told him about her artistic exploits. Well, at least he didn't ask about her mention of the human form. Most people would ask. But she felt slightly happier at not having to explain herself. Slowly she watched as the other boy's lips curved into a handsome smile. And a dimple also appeared on his cheek lagging behind the smile. Viv's eyes immediately fell to the book on the floor, she felt as if his smile was too personal for someone like her to see. Seconds later, she realized that she was being ridiculous, and drew her blue eyed gaze back up. They lingered on his eyes, seeing as that was the appropriate thing to do. People who lacked eye contact made Viv uncomfortable. It made them seem almost... shifty.

"I paint and draw..." Viv arched a brow. This was interesting. She didn't know anyone-- other than herself-- that engaged in painting or drawing. As for sculpting... She knew no one who did that. As for herself, the only reason why she did do it was for an outlet. Her inherited obsession with the perfect human form was more healthy when it was placed upon clay-- instead of herself.

"Acrylics?" She smiled unconsciously again, reminded of the new paint set that she had received a few days ago from her father. He was certainly trying to bribe her-- since she had refused to talk to Lyne-- no, Viv wouldn't even think that woman's name. It bothered her too much. No one like that was fit to be a mother. "Charcoal is what I prefer for drawing." For some reason she felt the need to actually speak to this boy-- have an engaging conversation. And usually she didn't feel that need around anyone. Not even friends.

"And I'm into music...I play....." Waiting patiently for him to finish speaking, she vaguely wondered what that flicker in his eyes meant. That he was lying? That he was secretly a musical genius? That had had never told anyone this before? (She doubted that, Viv knew that she wasn't the 'tell all secrets to' type.) Maybe he wasn't going to finish his thought. She offered an arched brow. "Let me guess... drums?" She laughed, a genuine laugh. "No, you don't seem the type... Nor do you seem like the guitar type, the sitting-on-a-rock-and-singing-campfire-songs-at-school-gatherings type.." Flute wasn't quite masculine enough to be his instrument of choice. "Maybe piano?" Her eyes flickered a little bit, piano was her mother's instrument of choice. Lynette often entertained at her father's fancy parties by sitting down and playing some spectacular piece that she had spent the last month learning and trying to play it off like it was a spontaneous thing. "No, I don't quite think so." A long look at the boy, taking in his expression, his posture, and she couldn't quote figure it out. "So am I even close?" Another smile. Wow, this was so strange for her. She never smiled so much.

[Jude Sinclair]

"I enjoy using acryllics.." He agreed, though they weren't the only ones he chose to dally with. He'd even used watercolors at one point, when he hadn't had anything else nearby. It'd been an interesting experiment, and one he'd enjoyed. Art was a good topic; a safe topic. One that was comfortable and allowed him to relax because it was as far from anything stressful as he could possibly get. That and, he just liked art. Plain and simple, really. "And I enjoy using charcoals. They can convey alot of depth....if you use them right..." Jude didn't even mind the fact that they were terribly messy to play around with.

He was quiet as she continued to try and guess which musical instrument he preferred. It entertained him, and he was curious about what conclusion she'd come up with. "I play piano." He confirmed, with a shrug. Jude enjoyed it to, at least to an extent. "But I prefer the violin." That was his favorite instrument. It wasn't one as easily mastered as the piano, though the classics were rather beautiful on both instruments. To him, it wasn't about entertainment but something more personal. Emotion was much easier expressed through music than it was in speech.

"Its hard to find a place to play at school...where there aren't alot of people." That was why he liked this time of the day. When there usually wasn't anyone around. Odd, that he was at ease right now, speaking of something that for him was very personal. But she didn't know that, and wouldn't. Because he just wasn't the type to point it out.

Jude wasn't normally this talkative. He tended to remain a mystery to his classmates, who took any mind to him at all. Quiddich earned him attention, though he was usually suspiciously absent for any celebration parties that were had. And he was prefect. A responsibility he took well, and did well, even if he tended to be a bit on the anti social side of things.

[Vivenne Cole]

"I play piano." Viv's smile faded. It wasn't the boy's fault, nor the instrument. It was purely Lynette. God, she kept being reminded of her mother today. It was pretty much hell. Slowly, Viv crossed her arms across her chest, feeling suddenly cold. She needed a distraction from this conversation that was supposed to be a distraction from the silence. When he spoke again, she listened, her eyes faraway gazing at the t.s. eliot book that was lying on the floor. "But I prefer the violin." She felt her shoulders relax a little again. That was neat. That was a good distraction. (How weird was she?) Violin was a peaceful instrument, one that fit his personality perfectly. She could picture him playing softly in some alcove near the towers on the top floor. He spoke again, and she looked at him fully this time. "Its hard to find a place to play at school...where there aren't alot of people."

Looking at him curiously, she wondered where he had been. She had found far too many secluded places. But then again, she had been using them for reasons far less appropriate than playing violin. "I think you've been looking in the wrong places..." She spoke with no rudeness, no smile, nothing. "I've found that if you're looking hard enough, you can find somewhere to hide." The last bit just popped out of her mouth before she realized it. "Not hide, actually. Um, get privacy." God, hiding was for the weak. Getting privacy was normal. She had hid in some of those places before, when everything got a little too much. But mostly she used to for secret 'meetings' with attractive boys whose names she didn't recall anymore. "There's this really good place... it's the astronomy tower... no one goes up there at night unless there is a class." Wide blue eyes glanced at him, and she thought of an excellent idea. "Want me to show you the secret entrance?" Mm, she had the luck to have caught the eye of one of the Dissemblance pranksters at school who knew all the secret routs. They had put the tower to good use, but now it seemed like a good spot for quiet musical practice.