InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Bake 'im away, toys!"

Ariana (Maguire) Veilleux || Maman Brigitte (madamdeath) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-10-15 23:57:00

Entry tags:

baron samedi, maman brigitte

there's a bend in the wind
Who: Ariana and Julian
What: She moved out of their home in an attempt to put the past behind her, but it looks like ~ fate ~ has other plans.
Where: Hallway of the fourth floor at Pax
When: Backdated to October 13th, say around 8PMish?
Warnings: Drama no doubt will ensue... probably cursing? Maybe. >.>
Notes: Can a girl just eat her ice cream in peace?

Moving here was a good thing, it was what she needed: a fresh start, and a new home that would be filled with memories that didn't reek so much of the recent past. She'd stayed too long in their old apartment, even after kicking him to the curb. Had her initial reluctance to leave been an underlying aversion to change? How funny if she were to equate it to something as ridiculous as that; things had long since changed drastically between the two of them, their earlier days--young, happy, excited to begin their lives together--nothing now but memories tainted with rust around the edges.

No, the sad truth of the matter was that she'd held out, hoping he'd notice things had gone awry, that CASKET's growing success was having the exact opposite effect on their marriage. She'd eventually avoided him outside of the club as much as he avoided her. Ariana knew she wasn't blameless when it came to their marriage falling apart, and yet Julian's final, vulgar offer to buy her shares in CASKET still left a bad taste in her mouth, made her place more blame on him than perhaps was rightfully deserved. But she refused to forget how she'd felt when his lawyer uttered those damnable words, and no amount of moving into a new apartment would ever change that fact.

However, it was nice, in a way, having a place completely to herself minus the extra baggage--literal and otherwise. Julian preferred to buy extra things that served little to no purpose other than to clutter up their living room, or even the bedroom. In stark contrast at her new home, Ariana had decorated sparingly in the main rooms, putting aside in a closet the few boxes left to unpack. Those last boxes contained items which triggered far too many happier memories, and she was not about to upset herself this evening by looking through old photo albums and the such.

Her footsteps were light along the carpeted walkway as she approached her front door, the only other sound being the rustling of the plastic bags she held. Tonight she'd picked up a few edible essentials, although she would have to do more extensive grocery shopping in the morning. (One of these 'essentials' was an infrequent splurge that'd be enjoyable nonetheless: a pint of strawberry ice cream to thoroughly enjoy while watching a good flick.) Ariana set down all four of her grocery bags, freeing her hands so she could dig through her purse for the apartment key.

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baronsamedi
2011-10-17 02:48 am UTC (link)

"Someone's getting bitter in their old age. Look, I need to get to work, I wasn't looking to butt heads with you right here, right now. Since we're living on the same floor, I'm sure that will happen often enough," he continued, his voice picking up an amused lilt that showed he wasn't at all happy about the arrangement, "so how about I get out of your hair and you put your claws away, all right? If you're absolutely dying for a fight later I'm sure we can pick up right where we left off. The part where I left the apartment, because you wanted your space." The words were as level headed as he could manage - sometimes he felt like they could be locked in a fight for hours, slinging words at one another with no problem because they had endless amounts of ammunition. At times, Julian had to wonder what had brought them together so quickly, and if that same thing was causing them to fall apart in a similar manner. There had always been a sense of familiarity with Ari, not so much that they just 'clicked' but that they knew each other inside and out and had known each other for a long, long time. Like they were old souls or some other New Age terminology that Julian couldn't really be bothered to discover. Right now, though, he didn't feel any of that pull - instead he felt like they were opposing magnetic poles, and he couldn't wait to get away from her, if only to clear his head of the rivaling emotions of guilt and anger.

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madamdeath
2011-10-17 04:07 am UTC (link)

She faltered for a moment--just a moment, nothing more. If he noticed, she was past caring. Julian was observant enough, and yet still he managed to miss what was under his nose, so obsessed was he with CASKET's welfare. Oh, it had infuriated her to the point of tears sometimes, receiving calls from him when she'd gone home early to get dinner ready, or prepare some other celebratory occasion. He'd cancel on her, no matter if their plans had been seemingly set in stone for a week, a month. It didn't matter to him, because CASKET always came first. Always. As much as Ariana had enjoyed CASKET finally being fully realized, she resented the club at the same time. It didn't matter that it was Julian's dream, because it had become his life.

The awful thing about it was that she wasn't the sort of woman who needed constant attention. It was ridiculous to think a man should have to cater to a woman's needs 24/7, and Ariana had not been raised with that sort of viewpoint, even though her mother harbored an ill affection for melodramatic tv sitcoms. In marriage, two lives became one, and yet each individual should still have been able to stand on their own two feet. But it shouldn't have been such a big deal to ask Julian to come home for dinner, or to not work all weekend--that's what the employees they'd hired were there for, to handle business when either of them couldn't be at the club, to keep things running smoothly.

How many anniversaries had he missed because he was busy with 'paperwork' at CASKET, or making sure that shipments were arriving punctually? Maybe they would have done better off not hiring any of their employees, for Julian had always thought he was the best to manage the club, that the floor couldn't be swept without him riding the tailcoat of whoever was doing it. God forbid there was a smudge on the counter for more than two point five seconds, for it might dissuade patrons from visiting again. (And yet he would berate Ariana for wanting to keep things neat and tidy at home, despite the amount of random knick knacks he picked up at who knows where almost every other week.)

It was a relief they'd never had any children together. They'd be as neglected as she'd grown to feel, because their daddy would have always been at work across town, too busy to see their first steps or hear their first words. Ariana remembered the disappointment her mother had expressed to her on multiple occasions--these were the results of marrying someone you barely knew, of disregarding common sense. Maybe her mother was right all along, and her father, too. But she'd had such an intense feeling in what felt like the very core of her soul when she'd met Julian. There was no other way to explain their instant connection. It was beyond words, beyond basic shallow attraction. And it was gone now, wasn't it? What had once been a wonderful, intense feeling had led to nothing but a marriage in shambles.

She did feel like he had used her to some degree, despite wishing otherwise. Julian's words made a weight drop to her stomach, as if there already wasn't one there. Ariana reminded herself not to let this show, because like hell would she break down in the middle of the hallway. He was not going to walk away from this fight thinking he had gotten one up on her, that he was right about everything. She clamped her jaw closed, refusing for once to speak up, to address his question properly. But her silence didn't last for long. Of course he'd mention work, how could he not? It obviously was the only thing that was ever on his mind, had been on his mind for years.

"You and your fucking club," she practically hissed, voice thick with frustration, hurt. "Go, enjoy your night. Take care of business. You're the man, after all." Her posture straightened, a way of trying to reassert herself in this little spat. "I didn't ask you to use one of your ridiculous pick up lines on me. You invited this fight, Julian. And for the last time," she said, struggling to control the level and tone of her voice, "you did not leave. I kicked you out and you damn well know it."

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baronsamedi
2011-10-17 04:37 am UTC (link)

It would have been terribly easy to stay there, to shoot back more vitriol, to continue the fight to the bitter dregs, but Julian had places to be. People were counting on him (And she was one of those people, wasn't she?) and there were some things that just couldn't get done without him; or at least, he didn't like not having a hand in them, because it was his name attached to the club, his reputation that rose or sank with every remark or judgment passed on CASKET. It wasn't obsession, it was careful attention to detail, the desire to make everything as close to perfection as he could humanly manage. Maybe once they'd rubbed each other raw from sheer close proximity she would finally give in to his demands and they'd be free of one another. If she hated the club so much, why didn't she just let it go? The sum he'd offered her was more than equal to her share in both the business and the building, so there was no reason to hang on like she was, nails embedded in something that simply did not belong to her.

His eyes flicked to the hand clutching the bag, holding on to the strap as though for dear life - she was still wearing her ring. The ring that he'd given her more than a decade ago, the banding in pristine condition and the diamond shining brightly. Ariana had always done her utmost to keep both herself and her surroundings in the best of presentations. It was something that he admired in her (and something that attracted him to her), that she continuously looked impeccable in all settings - even ones that involved no clothes - and next to him, they looked like a matched set. Too bad their personalities were in disagreement. Rather than being the one to lower himself to her level, though, Julian stepped around her in the direction of the elevator, giving his estranged wife enough of a berth to leave neither of them feeling uncomfortable. He paused for a moment, glancing back at the woman he'd married with careful consideration. Undoubtedly they would see little of each other, but if she was living so close to the club now, she would probably demand more use of her manager rights; want more of a say in what was going on there, how things were being run, who was being hired, and quite frankly, Julian could do without her meddling.

"I guess we'll see who runs who out of here first then, huh? See you later, honey bunny." He even went so far as to raise a hand to his mouth, placing the palm flat by his chin in order to blow Ariana a parting kiss, as though mocking what they had had. But he couldn't deny that he was shaken just a little by the fact that she was still wearing her wedding ring. They'd been living apart for the better part of a year (longer, if one were to factor in just how long he'd been staying late at CASKET) and what was more, going through divorce proceedings - Ariana was, of all things, a practical woman. There was no practical reason for her to continue wearing her ring. Out of politeness and desire to keep the proceedings in his favor, so she had nothing to use against him in court to win better rights or pay, Julian had done his best to keep his hands off of other women. He imagined that perhaps Ariana was doing the same, being smart in order to get her fair share of everything. The idea that perhaps she had other reasoning startled him, made him look over his understanding of her a second time. Then again, it could have simply been the sudden clinginess that had popped up (caused by your absence, no doubt) that was causing her to hold on to something that had died a long time ago.

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baronsamedi
2011-10-17 04:38 am UTC (link)

The elevator couldn't get up to his floor fast enough - part of him wanted to just take the stairs, but waiting there leisurely by the sliding doors gave him the appearance of someone who had nothing to lose, nothing to hide. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of making him run, look like a scared little man who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown because his mind couldn't stop analyzing the things he'd done, things he'd said, all in order to get his own way. His eyes watched the numbers light up above the elevator doors, descending from some high floor down to his own, and eventually dinged open with a heavenly sound that meant escape. The step inside was taken with a relaxed pace, and he turned, watching the doors slide closed over the image of Ariana standing just outside of her apartment door.

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madamdeath
2011-10-17 06:20 am UTC (link)

The only one running away from the situation was Julian, true to form. Ariana narrowed her eyes at him when he shot her another false pet name dripping with sarcasm, accompanied by a gesture that was nothing but blatant, immature childishness. He was purposefully being a living example of the old saying that men never grow up. She chose not to reward him with further negative attention, forcing herself to look away lest her glare somehow invite more of his foolish remarks. Ariana focused on uncovering once more the key that was lost within her purse. Finding it, she unlocked her apartment door and slipped it into her jeans pocket, resolving to not have to dig through all the receipts again in the morning.

Her groceries had been forgotten during their impromptu feud, and Ariana swore under her breath as she gathered together the bags and brought them into the apartment, pausing to nudge the door closed with her shoulder. She remembered too late that she'd bought ice cream for herself as a special treat, and upon checking it in the kitchen, was disappointed--but not surprised--that it was now a gooey mess. Frowning, she placed the pint container in the freezer for another night, then dutifully put away the rest of her groceries.

She could never have anticipated running into Julian here. Him in the same building as her was a long shot by far, but to make matters worse, they were living on the same floor. It mattered not that he would rarely be around, for even the thought of him being this close perturbed her, given their circumstances. Letting loose a sigh, Ariana pulled at the hairband she wore, removing it and freeing her hair. A trip to the living room, a few clicks of the tv remote, and she was soon watching an old re-run of The Jeffersons on Nick At Nite, too conflicted right now to do anything else. With morning her resolve would return, and she'd push onward, taking care of errands and the such.

This was her home, too, and like hell would Ariana allow herself to be shaken up enough to move out when she was still getting situated. That would solve nothing.

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