Realistic or Modern Grunge Is Not Dead

[Trignome]

The mid-morning sun occasionally dragged itself above the thick blankets of clouds in the sky, giving a lethargic wave that did little to brighten the somber study room. Chernobog didn’t mind, however. He wouldn’t feel much like waving to such a depressing group of people, either. Glancing around the room, he sighed around the eraser tip that he was chewing. The caffeine crash is kicking in for them, he could tell by the stale coffee odor that permeated from the little styrofoam sippy cups. Though rather unhappy himself, Chernobog’s frustrations weren’t aimless, they were focused on one person in particular; a girl. No, this wasn’t a romantic interest; this was a student of his. Although, it was strange calling her a student, when she was actually a few years older than him. If asked to describe this particular student, Chernobog would be very hard-pressed to do so. She is…she is very…he thought for a moment. If the phrase “WHOOOOOOO, let’s fuckin’ PAR-TAYYYYYYY!” was a girl, this would be the girl. He snorted into his sleeve.


An irritated voice whined to him. “WHY aren’t you HELPING me?” said party girl as she squirmed in her seat, loosening her ridiculously thin cami strap. She leaned in, her brown hair streaked with bleached blond, giving her perm a greasy, stringy effect. “I KNOW I as late, ‘kay? But there was this PARTY I just HAD to go to. Yah know?” Chernobog put his pencil down and sighed, massaging his puffy eyes before blearily looking down at his watch. “Cindy, there is a distinct difference between ‘fashionably late’, and completely forgetting a tutoring session.” Not that you’re particularly chic. He gave the girl a derisive once-over, taking in her neon pink cami, her shredded puke-camouflage leggings and her flip-flops encrusted with plastic, orange rhinestones.


What Chernobog was most concerned about at that moment wasn’t Cindy’s color-blindness, though, but her chest, which was getting uncomfortably close to his shoulder. Seriously, get those meat-sacks away from me. “Stop breasting my shoulder.” She giggled, apparently finding his statement hilarious, while at the same time continuing to lean against his shoulder like she hadn’t heard him at all. Her psychology thesis, really the blank sheet of notebook paper that was supposed to be her psychology thesis, was being completely ignored. Chernobog leaned over with his right arm, tapped his finger on the paper, then firmly made eye contact with her. “Get to work, or I’m doubling my rates next time.” The girl immediately sat up, looking rather affronted. “You don’t understand AT ALL. I was late ‘cause of the PARTY. You can’t blame ME for that. It’s not my FAULT! You already charge $50 an HOUR. That’s one WHOLE dollar per MINUTE!” Obviously, not the brightest at math. Chernobog breathed in slowly, exhaling the pent-up frustration in his body before thinking of the best way to solve the issue at hand. Cindy nudged him in the ribs. “Hey, did yah HEAR me? I said it WASN’T my FAULT.”


“Whoa, do you see that?” Chernobog sat up quickly in feigned surprise, pointing his finger at the empty space behind the girl. She peeked over her shoulder in confusion, then turned back to him. “There’s nothing there,” Cindy whined, pushing her chest out and making a pouty face. Chernobog deadpanned, “Sorry, Miss Giggle-Tits. I was just pointing out the humongous shit I didn’t give.” He turned without waiting for the girl’s response and continued reading the Complete Poems of Emily Dickenson. An entire hour wasted, and I haven’t even finished the first assignment for the mail-service. He didn’t feel the consequent storm of expletives that the girl rained down upon him. He didn’t see the finger she flicked him as she shoved her chair back and grabbed her purse. He didn’t hear the slapping of her flip-flops on the floor as she marched off in a huff. Chernobog was regretful of one detail, though, as he lost himself in Diceknson’s words. Damn, she forgot to pay for this session.

 

[swampishpetrichor]

☪ Nuri Caesar ☪

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Nuri walked off quickly, and vanished in the crowd. She felt safe for now, she was still on parol for doing that whole swindling spiel that got her briefly on the news. But, alas, that was her only few seconds of fame-- infamy she was going to get in the big city of New York. Nuri sighed with relief, and then slowed her fast pace in the crowd, she wouldn't want any policemen or women nearby to get suspicious and stop her little runaway. She slipped her hands out of her pockets, and held out the Søl card, and the opened the wallet, pushing it into a small pocket. The gypsy looked around the crowd, and she figured it would be crowded if she went to Queens and pulled a tarot hustle, that nearly everyone would fall for. She felt eyes burning into her back, and it was too late when she was turned around, and someone' slips were close to her ear. She listened to the boy in front of her, and she smirked spitefully as she realized false victory.


"'Caress on the ass?'" She quoted with a partially sarcastic chuckle. "That's a new one, clever of you." Nuri told him, honestly not giving a sh*t if it was off topic. She held out the wallet in her hand, and pressed it to his stomach with her hand since he was still close to her. "Take all of it." She told him with a light laugh. "It's no fun stealing from someone when you can't see the look on their face when they go to do something with their money." Nuri said truthfully. It was bitter, and spiteful, but true. Her personality was endearing, but when it came to stealing, she was a coldhearted b*tch. Nuri waited for him to take his wallet, and she kept her hand steady. "I'll survive another day. It's only due next wee--" Nuri furrowed her brows, and then slipped the wallet to his back pocket again, and muttered a curse for slipping out something vital. "It's a shot in the dark that I'll see you around. Bon voyage." Nuri said, and walked off to the crowd.

•


Mentions: @Oasis
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[Coedy]

Byron


After getting out of work early, Byron had made a b-line for the cafe on the corner of the street. Her tones legs carried her swiftly through the mob of New-Yorkers who were all headed some where else. She paid no attention to the people who barked at her for running into them; it was New York. She pushed her hair from her eyes and opened the door to the cafe, and made her way into the warm room. Byron let out a deep, content sigh, and dove her hands into her pockets; surprised to find the money that she had received from Ryder. When it was her turn to order, she stepped up to the barista and began to speak. "Hi, I'll take a Caramel Frappuccino with a shot of espresso." She told the lady, handing her the five.

As she made her way down to the waiting area, she began to think a party would be really nice tonight.. even though she had been at a party not 12 hours before. Byron shrugged her shoulders and pulled out her phone to begin her message. "Hey :: Party @ 311 Sherman Street starts at 8 till whenever.. see ya then -- Byron" she had managed to type with one hand, while the other had reached out, and took a hold of the drink that literally had her name on it. Byron drank the delicious drink while taking a seat by an outdoor table. Her body leaned back in the chair as she clicked every one of her party-friends and their friends as well.


There should be a good turn out, with all of my friends crowding the place ... and the grapevine of all gossip would come in handy as well. She thought to herself, taking another sip of her drink. With a sigh, Byron lifted herself out of the seat and on to her own two feet. She then began to make her way down the street, being careful not to spill her drink, loose her money, or her phone. It was only around 1, and there was still a lot to be done.


(Sorry if it's short.. I just came back from volleyball, and I have to work in a few minutes soo yeah!)
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[Rise]

Once Ryder got home, he laid on his mess of a bed and enjoyed the rest of his ice cream while flipping on the bulky television that sat on top of the dresser in front of his bed. "This place really needs to upgrade to a flat screen..." He thought as he turned on the television with the remote.


"And get some more channels..." He sighed at the selection of twenty, all as equally boring, channels. The only good thing about the place he was staying in was the price. "Like the best blow a guy can get for only a dollar..."


Ryder's phone vibrated on the nightstand, moving in a small circle as it did so. With a smile, he rolled across his bed, grabbing his phone. Turning it on, he saw that he had a text message.


"Party at 311 Sherman Street, yeah...?" He muttered to himself as he read the message. It was forwarded to him from one of the many sources he had. He had many party animal friends, and this was the only way to ensure he didn't miss a good time.


Ryder checked the time and saw that he had some hours to kill. He pondered to himself, "Do I really want to go to another party and risk a just as bad a hangover from not resting enough, then going off to work without a full day of rest?"


"... Fuck, yes. I think I've rested enough," he said and got out of bed to go through his suitcase to pick out an outfit for tonight.


"I never miss a party."

 

[Psychedelia]

Anastasia Vadoma

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Ana soon lost her smile after waiting outside the building for awhile. Most of the people around here were now just regulars who were in a hurry to get somewhere else. Shrugging slightly, Ana wandered into the cafe. Business had slowed only a smidgen at this point but the place was still buzzing with people. She could hear various conversations from just about every direction but she couldn't make out more than a few words here and there. Honestly, she hated this kind of place. The people in here were always so rude and pushy; she definitely preferred a bar to this. Though, anywhere without any people at all would top both places. Nonetheless, she usually spent most of her days here wasting time and trying various drinks and occasionally mingling with the more appealing customers.


After ordering herself a frappe, Ana wandered towards one of the smaller tables in the back and took a seat. She took a long sip of her frappe and gazing out the window. Suddenly feeling her phone begin to buzz, Ana pulled the device from her pocket and checked the message. Hm.. Another party, huh? Ana tried to think if she had been to a party at that address before and, though she probably had, she couldn't remember ever being there before. Thinking more about it, she smiled softly and took another sip of her frappe. She never passed up a chance to have some fun and meet some people more to her liking than the average business folk around here. Ana lived for the adventure and thrills in life... Besides, parties were the best place to practice her hobby and build up her skills. Most people she knew who were classified as gypsies had a much more impressive history than she did but it didn't hurt to build up her rep a little.

Preston Landry
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After hours of work had already passed, Preston managed to convince his boss to let him leave early. Well, something like that. His boss had to meet his wife at the hospital for their daughter so he caved quickly and let everyone leave earlier than usual. Of course, it wasn't much earlier but hey it was time off that they would all get paid for anyways. In all honesty Preston really did like his boss because of things like this. He was a decent guy who didn't mind giving out a little cash to those who worked hard below him. After all, he did own various other places similar to this one so he had enough money to go around.


Leaving work for the day, Preston made his way down the crowded street in no hurry at all. He liked the scenery of New York and he liked being around people so it didn't bother him much. What bothered him though was the amount of people who took it upon themselves to rob you blind or give you hell for no reason in public. Preston couldn't understand why so many people were such a**holes. Granted, he could be one himself, too, when he really wanted to but it still wasn't right.


Walking into the building where his apartment was, Preston waved at a neighbor and headed up the stairs. His apartment was on the second floor so it wasn't too high up but it was definitely not the best spot in the building. His neighbors directly above him were constantly fighting all hours of the night and occasionally being extra loud in the bedroom. Preston shook his head and, just as he reached his door, his flamboyant next door neighbor made his way over to him.





"Hey! Laundry!" he called, walking in a hurry towards Preston. "It's um, Landry.. Or, since you can't grasp that, you could call me Preston.. My first name?" he responded unlocking the door but pausing outside to listen. "What do you want, Nate?" Without hesitation, Nate quickly rambled on about Byron's party. Preston surely didn't know her by name but since Nate knew her the party probably wouldn't disappoint. "So, ya gonna go? I can drive us if you want since you don't drive and all..." Nate raised an eyebrow then smirked and headed back into his own apartment. "I know you're gonna go so just meet me in the garage before nine, okay?" And with that, he closed the door. Preston shook his head and walked into his own apartment thinking about the party still. Of course he was going to go. He needed his release and this was it. And since he didn't give up the address, Preston knew Nick really wanted him to go with him so he would.