KICKING YOUR CROSSES DOWN,

[ELLIS RICE]

OPEN TO ANYONE!

Negativa was like home to Rice. It felt great to the young man, like a piece of the dirty side of London that he'd grown up in, the dark and dreary days and nights all lumped into one pitch black strobe-lighted dance hall. And to think that such a place could crop up in a place filled with such beauty, such purity. It was Rice's own little hellhole on sanctified ground. Just what he needed.

At the moment, the young man was lounging, alone, in one of the many booths lining the walls, watching the people dance in the black lights, swimming in sound waves as he sipped on his drink- non alcoholic, surprisingly. Not for Rice; he wasn't a big drinker. When he drank, it was only for big parties, and when he did, he really did- but those occasions were few and far between. Right now, he was playing with the perspiration gathering up on the outside of his glass of coke- drawing circles on the foggy exterior, just waiting for something special to happen.

The beat pulsed through his ribcage, and he played self-consciously with his hair- as if anyone was going to notice. There was a fat chance anyone here was going to go out of their way to talk to someone when there was thousands of gyrating bodies sexing it up on the dance floor, where Rice could be but would never go. He couldn't dance, you see- he was terribly awkward in that physical dancer sense. He'd just stand there in the middle of the dancepool and feel the beat, he could feel the beat... but anything bast bouncing to it a bit, getting his knees into it... nothing. There was no such thing as an Ellisdance. Just an Ellisstand-and-look-awkward.

which was why he preferred to sit on the sidelines and wait. for someone to flirt with. For someone to talk to. Mostly someone to take home and share his bed with... Rice was terrible with loneliness. If he was being completely honest, he was terrified of the fact that he'd never had an actual relationship, scared that he never would... He didn't want to sleep alone anymore. It was a pathetic thing to say, but it was true, it was why Rice went to clubs almost every night he wasn't painting, why he watched people and fell in lust with them and took them home and fucked them and hoped to god that they stayed the night...

It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live, was the first thing that popped into Rice's mind, the soft guitar accompanying the lyrics to the Bright Eyes song shortly afterward. The boy had a soft spot for mellow acoustic stuff, one that he never usually showed to people unless they showed theirs to him first. Then came the soft spot for classical music and ballet, for kittens, for beaches, for stutters and shy smiles and light blue eyes and soft hair and watermelon shampoo... Rice sighed, more out of boredom than anything, drinking the rest of his pop and setting the empty glass at the edge of the table, warily watching it sit precariously close to its demise.

[WILLIAM MACMILLAN]

Lately Will had found himself gravitating towards dark corners and underground places-- basements, alleyways, backseats of cars and, fo course, Negativa. The place was, by all means, a horrible nasty hole in Will's eyes, but it proved very secretive and isolated: a perfect place to be evil and brilliant and cunning, three things Will excelled at most spectacularly. The fact that the club was teeming with the most vile type of street-urchins and wastes of sperm was an easy fact to overlook when you were silently judging them in your own little corner that they never seemed to penetrate. Because, as everybody knows, judging other people is the perfect way to feel better about yourself, and when you already feel like a million bucks, the result is practically euphoria.

However, if all good things must come to an end, so must all good feelings, and this case is no exception. Just as Will was starting to feel chipper and cheerful in the deep darkness of Negativa, he saw it. He saw him. Sitting in his booth, in his very special dark corner where he planned all his malicious little endeavors. Where he drank his rum and cokes, picking out prostitutes from the crowd he could buy and take home. Instantly his face fell and his eyes flased gold and red in the blackness and he even stopped dead in his tacks. This was not a good thing to do in a place like Negativa. Instantly there was much groping and fondling in places Will would like to have been touched, if it weren't despicable leeches that were touching him.

Will had every right to be surprised, though, this had never happened to him before. He always just assumed that everyone knew that that was his booth. He did sit in it every time he came in to the this god-forsaken hellhole. Still, he fought through his shock and moved onward, so as to avoid catching some random veneral disease from all the strangers pushing up against him. Forcing his way a little roughly, he finally made it to the table, standing before it as if waiting for an apology or something. Noticing that the man wasn't drinking any alcohol puzzled him even further; this person did this knowingly and under no influence of booze? It must be drugs. Yes, that's it. Smiling placidly he put the tips of his fingers on the table top and leaned over, his mouth right next to the boy's ear. If he hadn't noticed Will by this point, he certainly did now.

"Hello." He said, barely above a whisper. He always talked like that, even in such a noisy club as this one. It was a habit; when you talk softly, people tend to listen more carefully. It was menacing and cold, but still he had the smile on his face, and his eyes showed no traces of the anger that had so recently graced them. It was better to be calm when dealing with junkies, he's always said. "By what forces of fate did you happen to come across my table?" He asked, losing his calm slightly in his frustration. People were continuing to push up against him, this time from behind, forcing him to squeeze in next to his current arch nemesis, scowling and grumbling the whole time. He shouldered the kid lightly to the side for more room, thanking his lucky stars that the club was so dark that no one would notice his face flushing red. And, suprisingly enough, Will seemed to be at a loss for words. He was flabbergasted, to say the least, able only to stare blankly at the stranger that had caused him so many problems already.

[ELLIS RICE]

Rice was just about to get up to get another coke when he noticed a young man sauntering his way over to his table- Maybe he was interested? He didn't look it, judging by his rather frustrated expression. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone was grinding up on him... One doesn't cross through the dance floor unless they want to conceive children, the people dance so closely. That was the appeal of Negativa for most that walked through it's doors- there was no shortage of physical closeness.

The man was strange, strange indeed- when he first walked up to the table, he simply stood there as if he was waiting for something. Maybe he was in a gang or something, and had been told that the man in the money would be sitting in this exact spot... Wouldn't that be unfortunate. He was staring expectantly at him as Rice stared expectantly at him- how long could this go on? Not long, as determined by the other, as he leaned over with his mouth to Rice's ear, surely about to utter some sexual innuendo.

"Hello," was all that was said, unless it was something different- he had a strange, whispery way of saying things, which made him a little hard to understand in the loud bass of the Negativa. He was smiling, Rice could tell from the corners of his own eyes, the corners of the man's mouth, but what he couldn't tell was the menace in it. "By what forces of fate did you happen to come across my table?" Oh. His Table? Rice leaned back to see the man's face more clearly. He had an odd tone in his voice that suggested anger, slight anger...

"I'm sorry?" Rice answered, clearly not planning on moving. "I was under the impression that the VIP booths were on the other side of the club. This is as much my booth as it is yours. I wouldn't mind the company, though. Sit, sit." Whether it was in response to Ellis' invitation or the fact that the crowd was practically pushing the poor man on top of Rice, he reluctantly slid in next to Rice, Saying nothing but staring almost incredulously. I know I'm sexy... Rice joked to himself, smiling lightly at his own internal joke.

Not being able to stand being stared at silently, Rice decided to strike up a conversation. "I'm Rice, by the way." He offered, crossing his legs under the table and scooting over to give the man a bit more room, but staying at his side of the table, Probably making the poor man uncomfortable. Unless the powers that be were on Ellis' side tonight, given him a gift from above to bring home for the night? From the dark, he couldn't exactly make out the man's facial features, just the shadows thrown off by seemingly strange angles in his face. He didn't have anything against strange angles... Seeing as his own face was full of them.

[WILLIAM MACMILLAN]

Apparantly William was not as intimidating as he liked to think, which made him all the more angry. Ignoring the boy's sarcastic remarks about VIP tables, he instead took a deep breath, taking a sweeping glance over the club. Everyone was wrapped up in each other, quite literally, and while Will tried to focus on their obscene movements, he still couldn't shake the feeling of being uncomfortable, mostly because of the close proximity of the person next to him. Will, however, was not stupid, and if 'Rice', as he now called himself, hadn't moved by now, Will knew he wasn't going to. So he took another deep breath and turned back to face him, that smile once again transforming his usually harsh-looking mouth into something relatively kind.

"I'm sorry, Rice." He said, succeeding well at looking indeed apologetic and naturally good-humored, though he intentionally kept his voice from becoming too sweet or friendly. If it did, he might hurl or do something equally disgusting to purge himself of it. Will was a good liar, yes, but even he wasn't that good, and if he found himself to be too despicable then he'd give himself away. And where's the fun in being yourself? "I've been feeling kind of... on edge, all day. Didn't mean to take it out on you." He added, leaning back in his seat and making a casual sweeping motion of his arm, resting it on the back of the booth and, in turn, right behind Rice's own shoulders. It wasn't an overly flirty gesture, persay, Will just wanted to look comfortable. He had underestimated the fun of acting against a person who didn't know they were in a play; it was turning out that this night may not have been a total bust after all.

"I'm Mac." Will said, using his nickname to seem more personable. "It's nice to meet you. It's more often than not that a person will get molested in here before names are introduced, if they're ever even brought up at all." He said it nochalantly, though it was mostly true. Will had actually been a part of a few of those types of encounters, in his wilder days, when he was younger and not arrogant enough to pass up a good romp in some dirty bathroom. Life was exciting back then, though a lot less clean, and this encounter was giving him some of that excitement back. It was taking the edge off, actually, distracting him from plans of murder and betrayal, though he'd never admit to getting his head clouded up by a few hours of loosened morals.

[ooc: kinda short. lacking muse. sorry! >.< ]

[ELLIS RICE]

nah, it's not short, it's fine.

It was sort of a territorial thing, Rice's staying so close to Will. He was there first, and it didn't matter to Rice if this was 'his' booth, he was here first and he wasn't going to be pushed around. It was mostly a territorial thing, but there was that flirtatious side to it, the leg crossed hitting the other man's pant leg as he swung his foot habitually, leaning on his palm to face the other male as he spoke. He wasn't stupid- he knew that Will was probably not interested at all in the man breaching into what he had presumably marked his, so the syrupy smile he was soon given hadn't thrown him off at all. This was such a terrible facade of a facade of romance... It was worth it just to keep it going, see what flourished from it.

"I'm sorry, Rice." he apologized, and it was a pretty decent one at that- if it wasn't for the sudden transformation from beast to beauty, Rice would have fallen for it. It was just too fake. "I've been feeling kind of... on edge, all day. Didn't mean to take it out on you." And with a rather suave lean back, he rested his arm on the back of the seat, just above Rice's shoulders. If this wasn't a come on, Rice had never seen one in his life, because this was just oozing of mockable flirt. Rice gave the man a smile with a certain shine in his eyes, as if to say you sure you want to play this game with me? Because oh, Rice did. He just had to keep the image of the naive little boy who had stumbled across something bigger, maybe. He'll see where this took them.

"Oh, That's fine, I know the feeling myself." He forgave, giving the man a gentle, laughing smile, that look in his eyes never wavering- he was always staring at him, never looked away. He did that sometimes, whenever he needed to make people feel nervous. It creeped people out. "My day wasn't the best either, I'll have you know. It's why I came here, to..." The millimeter of distance he spaced with a hardly noticeable scoot toward William seemed to have been just short of sitting himself in his lap- there was still quite a bit of space between them, but once Rice got going with his flirting, there really was nothing to stop him from going all the way- Will was mocking him, He was mocking Will, but you know... If the day ended with them in the same bed, Rice was perfectly okay with that. Because why else would you go to Negativa?

"...unwind." He gave the man a small smile, feeling his lips hurt from all the excercise those poor muscles were getting. "I'm Mac. It's nice to meet you. It's more often than not that a person will get molested in here before names are introduced, if they're ever even brought up at all." Rice nodded in comprehension- he'd had those days, too. More often than not, really... Sometimes the boy was too drunk to remember his own name, stumbling over himself as Rice held him up... Ellis had no problem with taking advantage of someone under the influence when he was lonely enough. It all depended on how cold he felt that night. Some days he just needed some one, and if they were willing in their current state... They could deal with their problems in the morning. "Ah, yes. But It's much less..." he placed a finger to his lips, thinking of the word. "Intimate, that way, I suppose. Some people like the distance of a nameless dance."

[WILLIAM MACMILLAN]

Will was tapping his fingers lightly on the back of the booth, just behind Rice's ear. It was an involuntary movement that William often did when his mind was off somewhere else. This was one of those times. He was staring off into the crowd, letting his mind wander while he kept one ear open to Rice and the conversation he had accidentally stepped into. Some girl on the floor was whispering something into her dance partner's ear, but he couldn't hear her properly, obviously, because Will could see him mouthing the word 'What?' about twenty times in a row. Eventually the girl just gave up trying, making Will chuckle slightly to himself. It was an ordinary thing that somehow got his attention and kept it for a moment. Kind of like this kid, Rice, Will realized, turning back to his company and sighing slightly.


What Rice said next made Will raise his eyebrows, looking skeptical. "Oh, That's fine, I know the feeling myself. My day wasn't the best either, I'll have you know. It's why I came here, to... unwind." As Will eyed the edge of the boy's body warily, as it scooted closer to him, he had to laugh again to himself. "You are just too funny." He said aloud, though not very loudly. It was more of an inner commentary to himself, but he didn't mind if Rice heard it. Will couldn't help but to be amused; Rice was either just as sly and weird as Will was, or he was desperate for something that Will would certainly not give him. At the moment, Will was guessing desperation, because he does not enjoy comparing other people to himself, it makes him feel ordinary. "Unwind, huh?" He said, smiling genuinely for once. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Unabashadly throwing out the overused saying with no hesitation.

Will could certainly identify with the feeling of needing to unwind, and, similar to Rice, he often used sex to do so. More often than not, though, he would just pick up a whore from his favorite brothel; less talking and effort and absolutely no cuddling afterwards. The perfect relationship. "Ah, yes. But It's much less... intimate, that way, I suppose. Some people like the distance of a nameless dance." Will shook his head slightly, still amused. To reply he leaned forward, his face very near to Rice's. "And others..." He said, catching eye-contact and holding on to it. "...prefer not to dance..." Will emphasized the last word with another raise of his eyebrows, then drew away from Rice, swooping his arm away from the back of the booth and beginning to search for something in his coat, while continuing to talk. "...at all. Take me for example. I'd rather... ah, there they are." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from one of his inner pockets. "I'd rather just smoke a cigarette." He finished, taking one out of the pack and sticking it in the corner of his mouth before offering one to Rice.

Even if it was just a diversion, the statement was true. Cigarettes were one of Will's biggest addictions. The way the burned the throat was somehow theraputic to him, and he loved to watch the wisps of smoke as they floated upwards in elegant curves and eventually disappeared. But besides that, they were also a useful tool in conversation. Will felt that he could tell a lot about a person by the way they smoked a cigarette, if they even smoked at all. And it was for that reason that Will tried to smoke cigarettes without telling anything about himself, but it's easier said than done. It was obvious when Will smoked that he thought he was rather dapper and good-looking, like one of those rough-and-tumble bad asses from the fifties, with the cigarettes in the corners of their mouths and a girl by their sides. That was basically Will right then, without the girl, looking expectantly at Rice, waiting for him to accept or refuse, and hoping that he would accept.