just perfect...not, -jamie

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What kind of sick joke had his father thrown at him? Kicking him out of his Country for what? A measly fun in the rain? The car race had been his father's last straw that night, and because of his final straw being broken his father was no longer able to use it so all bets were off, and his father’s temper was a go. And, that made a new living nightmare for Prince Dupont.

He never took his father seriously until the night he came home in his soaked up, black suit, red tie, smug expression on his face. The law enforcement had called his father an hour earlier to inform of the accident his son had been in. Luckily, for the young Dupont Prince he left the scene without a scrap just a little damage to his car, it was no big deal. That was supposed to be the thought of the whole ordeal. He would get a new car tomorrow and the world would be at 'peace' again in his world anyways.

This however was not the case. His father was livid because as his father put it 'cedric, you're making a mockery out of this family.' His little car adventure had been broadcasted all over the television that day in Belgium. The cops were after him, and he was racing a well-known criminal that threw him off the road. His mother had been in tears all day, worried about her only son's safety. Sure, Cedric had been in these races before but they never went as public and never went as insane as this one had today. The smug look he wore upon his face was quickly washed off the minute he saw his father...and the rest was...well....

Here he was now sitting in Estonia in a little local Pub. His father shipping him out of Belgium and out to face the real world terrors. Cedric would have to face world where he would no longer get away with 'murder' which is a harsh way to put it, but in a place where everyone knew where he was he most certainly could get away with murder. His father had enough of his ungentlemanly and crude behavior and felt it was time he grew up so he had been transported to Estonia.

Any other time Cedric would be eating this place up, if it were for a simple vacation. However, being stuck here and knowing he could not return home until he was 'fixed' made matters so much more of a headache...

It was his first night in and he was settled into a nice hotel for the time being and luckily for him this hotel just so happened to have a tiny bar across the street. Perfection. That was the word that first appeared inside his head when he noted this bar. At least he could drown his sorrows in a bottle of rum and maybe a few lady friends would drop by. At least that would make this little Estonia adventure become more entertaining until his father allowed him home again.

Not that this was what his father meant by changing, not at all. Changing locations was supposed to change him, not continue his Belgium behaviors.

Nevertheless, his thickhead made him feel he was invincible and within no time he would be residing back in the Dupont Kingdom...

"A shot of rum..." he muttered out, holding up a finger, his thick accent coming out as he ordered his first round of shots. “And, keep them coming,”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

TAG: jamie here WORDS: 591
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: notes here

Template made by
!Liebe Ist Für Rammstein! @ Caution 2.0!
Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.

[Jamie Elijah McCoy]

Jamie walked the streets of Tallinn, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, wearing a half-frown, one that might indicate that he was deep in thought, though in reality not much was going through his head. He was on his way to one of his favourite pubs, a small, quiet, out-of-the-way place, not somewhere touristy. The prices were lower, there were fewer people, he liked it. There was just enough background noise to really think, Jamie wasn't one of those people that could focus in complete silence, though it was damn near impossible to think clearly if there was too much noise. This was a happy medium.

So in stereotypical Irish fashion, Jamie frequented this pub quite a bit, though to go against the stereotype, he wasn't a rowdy drunk. In fact, Jamie held his liquor (usually whiskey, his beverage of choice, though he had been known to branch out to the likes of gin, brandy, and vodka) quite well. He didn't usually get completely trashed, he stopped at a pleasant buzz. While he might not be intolerable drunk, he was downright unpleasant if he was hungover. The headache and the sensation of wanting to vomit turned him into a bit of an asshole. Jamie knew his limits, so he kept within them.

Well, not exactly. He wasn't supposed to be drinking at all, something about all the calories in booze and what it did for his complexion, but dammit, he was an adult, and if he wanted to go to the pub for a round or two of something, then he was going to do it. Of late his agent was more of a babysitter than an adviser, and it was driving him insane. Sure, if he had been turned loose in Estonia when they had first moved here when he was seventeen he might have gone a little crazy, but he was twenty-four years old now. He wasn't a kid, he knew what he was doing.

Slouched over and gaze down at his Italian-leather shoes, Jamie entered his usual pub, bypassing the tables and going straight up to the bar. He was here alone, there was no need to occupy a table, and with the expression on his face, no matter how handsome he was, he wasn't likely to be approached. Jamie wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing, but at any rate, he didn't care all that much. It was nice to be out and alone, he didn't always need someone to keep him company, this would work just fine for him. The bartender served a man about his age a shot of rum before turning to him.

"Back again, James?" he asked, smiling and getting him a small tumbler of his usual whiskey on the rocks without having to ask what he wanted. It was safe to say that he was a regular here. Always a regular, but never a local, he had a loose grasp on the language, but his thick Irish accent wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He supposed seventeen years in Ireland, from infancy to the end of his teenage years had been long enough to cement his accent in place, no matter how long he lived in Estonia he'd always sound like a foreigner.

"Aye, it's good for me health," said Jamie, offering a small smile to the barkeep before he sipped his whiskey, falling quiet once more. That was how he was, never one to talk unless something needed to be said.

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The young man downed his first shot of rum with ease. Then let out a small 'ahh,' as his teeth clammered shut getting used to the taste on the tip of his tongue. He sucked in his breath and then bit down on the bottom of his lip. His eyes averting to his side noting a beautiful young, blonde woman staring at him in what was it... wonder? Admiration? In complete aw, after all he was young, handsome and just by the way he dressed it was obvious he was rich. The perfect man is what Cedric's thickheaded skull lead him to believe. In Belgium ladies fawned over him so why would Estonia be any different? Then again, what he was not going to be prepared for was that not everyone would identify him as a Prince... but just another wealthy, decent looking man walking the streets in Estonia.

He nodded his head, and tilted his glass at the woman, a smug, cocky expression creeping upon his lips, that was until another woman, looking to be just slightly older then the blonde woman appeared, and the blonde-haired women’s attention quickly went to the other woman. He could hear their laughs from a few feet away which caused Cedric to turn his attention back on the empty shot glass in his hands. A momentary roll of his eyes because by now in Belgium the woman would have already been begging him to come over, but the two were completely ignoring him. He had a slight feeling he was going to start missing Belgium a lot sooner than expected.

If he had not been so thickheaded and ego torn, he assumed he could have easily walked over and smoothed his way in with the ladies. However, he much more preferred them to come to him, then he would smooth his way into their 'life', leading to the bedroom, then getting rid of them. It was as simple as that. He had no desire to keep a leading lady in his life much to his father's disappointment, wanting young Cedric to finally settle down and be a man.

"I said keep them coming,"

His eyes glanced over at the Bartender noting he had yet to regain another shot of rum, causing the bartender to not look very delighted with Mr. Dupont but still gathered him up not just one shot this time, but three.

"Thanks..." he muttered nonchalantly, as he downed another shot.

He noticed the bartender was now interacting with some Irish boy? He had to assume just with the way the 'kid' was talking. Who spoke like that anywhere else? The giggles came from the two girls again, and Cedric's eyes averted over to them, they seemed to me memorized by the Irish charm of the man that had recently walked into the bar, causing Cedric to let out a scuff. Though he still noted that the girls were nothing like Belgium girls... in Belgium they would have already came up to Cedric or the other man by this time. He supposed girls in Estonia would take just a little more work... which he would save his 'energy' for some other night. Not the night he was dwelling on being stuck in this damn place... washing his sorrows away with the shots of rum.

"Decent choice," his Belgium accent coming through, thickly again, as he glanced down at the Whiskey filling the man's glass next to him, "Though a touch weak," he added in as an afterthought eying him for a brief moment, before reaching out and taking a half of shot of his rum.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

TAG: jamie here WORDS: 604
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: notes here

Template made by
!Liebe Ist Für Rammstein! @ Caution 2.0!
Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.

[Jamie Elijah McCoy]

Jamie looked down at his glass fingers lightly curled around it, he should drink it quickly, whiskey was essentially worthless if it got too watered down as the ice melted. It was still potent, that didn't change, but it made the taste worthless. He'd encountered at the higher-end places that had actual whiskey stones, which he had thought were a lost art, but they kept the alcohol cold without watering it down, which was nice. He allowed his thoughts to wander, as they often did, looking down into the amber-coloured liquid. He thought back mostly on what his life had become over the past seven years.

Seven years ago he had just been starting out with being featured in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog, followed by appearances for H&M, now he had gone big, much bigger than he had thought that he would. Just last week he had done a shoot for Calvin Klein, and now his agent had secured him an appearance for Alexander McQueen. Photo opp, only, however, Jamie wasn't a runway model. He was too buff for that, runway models needed to be stick-like, but when it came to pictures, they wanted the athletic, well-built guys like him.

His agent was also going on about getting him another commercial, wanting him to make his break into acting within the next three years. Jamie wasn't sure what to think of that, following that much in his mother's footsteps, though he couldn't say he'd deny a roll if it fell in his lap. Lifting his glass to his lips, Jamie took a swig, not even flinching as the whiskey burned its way down, he had actually come to enjoy the sensation of it, whiskey was sort of his thing. He set the glass back down, lapsing into thought once more.

He was lost enough to the point where he didn't notice the pair of giggling, though pretty, Estonian girls eyeing him. Physically attractive as he was, Jamie wasn't really much of a charmer, sure he could be romantic and woo the girl that he was with, but he wasn't much into flirting, he wasn't really all that outgoing. Most of the relationships he had had, had been with girls who were very open and straightforward about liking him. The majority of the dates he had been asked on sounded more like commands. He simply went along with it, though nothing really lasted.

It took a long time, longer than what most people were willing to wait, for him to become emotionally invested. He wasn't really a commitment, emotional involvement kind of guy. Not that he would bang anything that moved, either, Jamie was simply difficult to get close to. Developing a relationship certainly would not be of his own initiative, it would take someone actively pursuing him, and as currently there wasn't anyone chasing after him, he was single, and at the moment, all right with it. There was no shame in drinking alone, or even drinking at all.

Blinking when someone spoke to him, Jamie shoved his mostly unrelated thoughts from his mind and turned his head to look at the speaker a few bar stools over from him. He, not unlike himself, spoke in a heavy accent, and while his did coincide more with and Estonian one, it was decidedly different from the local dialect. Jamie raised his glass a bit. "I like me whiskey," Jamie said indifferently with a shrug. He took another sip of his drink. Now would be the time where normal people might initiate conversation, though Jamie fell quiet.

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Only half had remained of his shot of rum, and within seconds that was gone as well. He noted the Bartender had almost been quicker at gathering up a few more drinks for the Prince, though Cedric held up his finger. He could have handled many more shots of the rum though his taste buds were seeking a new thrill. Something a little more modern that brought him back to the roots of his home.

"Pilsner," Cedric announced nodding his head, as if indicating he was done with the rum. The rum had been a simple drown yourself in sorrows drink. The shots to start his first night in Estonia after being banned from his home. After all it felt like his father shot him with a gun right in the chest when he uttered out the words 'you're gone, son' among many other words Cedric never imagined his father to have used. Rum had been a simple drink it and cower away in his pain. However drinking a Pilsner…

If done right it was a drink that would be poured into a bigger glass, a glass to show he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. The bartender probably not as keen about this as Cedric might be. The bartender would have to get used to Cedric's appearance much more often unfortunately. This would be his getaway when he was sick and tired of dealing with people. Or he just felt like drowning his sorrows in booze away from everywhere that he planned on making a good name for himself. For the sake of his father and the sake of himself he needed to start looking better in a Public eye... but first, he would have to get his name and himself noticed. Sure he could use the word 'Prince' of Belgium and it would get him noticed rather quickly but he assumed his father would frown upon the people of Estonia this quickly already knowing who Cedric Dupont was. Cedric was rather grateful he found this pub because at least in this little pub he wouldn't have to worry about paparazzi finding him, he wouldn't have to worry about the public looking down upon him. He could be as unclassy as he wanted to at this place.

Soon the gruff looking man behind the counter slid the Pilsner toward him, and Cedric took a sip, and licked his lips, in approval, then nodded his head at the man. Thank you and please were not very often used in Mr. Dupont's vocabulary. It was not like the Pilsner's he would get back in Belgium however it was just crisp enough for him, a bit more dry then usual however, he knew most Pilsner's were rather dry. He looked down at the glass and picked it up, swishing the contents around in the glass, then glanced at the ladies, grinned, then looked back over at the 'irish man' a few bar stools over.

"Get one for him," he said indicating toward Jamie, then turned to smirk at the man,

"Are the ladies always so..." he paused trying to delicately choose his words, "amusingly, loud? Yet, never seem to make a move?" he questioned him, though what he wanted to say probably came out slightly not how he intended to be, having it be lost in translation, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to see what he had to work with when it came to the other gender species of the world here in Estonia. If he was really stuck here he would have to learn the ways of the females here or he would be leading one lonely life in the bedroom...

That and he had to start learning their ways if he wanted to get in on the wonders of Estonia, and back home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

TAG: jamie here WORDS: 634
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: notes here

Template made by
!Liebe Ist Für Rammstein! @ Caution 2.0!
Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.

[Jamie Elijah McCoy]

Jamie absently ran the side of his finger up and down one of the panels of his glass, again gazing down into what was left of the amber liquid intently, as if within its shallow depths it held the meaning of life or the answer to an unsolvable riddle. In reality, he was allowing his mind to entertain itself at will, giving his train of thought free reign to jump around from topic to topic, never really settling anywhere for long. The shape of the glass was odd thing, the inside rim was a perfect cylinder, though the outside was a hexagon, with corners and everything. Wonderfully fascinating.

Jamie kept quiet, wondering if the young man a few stools down from him would continue with booze-related conversation, or if he was just going to leave him be, he certainly wasn't acting conductive to conversation. He was a man of few words for the most part, when around friends he did become a bit more talkative and willing to open up, though that was just in a group of a select few. Even then, Jamie couldn't be counted on to keep talk going, and generally contributed the least amount to the conversation out of anyone there. It was just who he was, never one to say more than what was absolutely necessary.

Jamie lifted his glass to his lips, now tossing back the rest of the contents and putting now the only ice-filled glass back on the bar. But rather than moving to refill it, the bartender held back. Given his status as a regular here, the bartender knew not to keep things coming unless he asked. Unlike the stereotype for those of his country, Jamie didn't particularly enjoy getting completely plastered, a pleasant buzz was nice, but never anything more than that. He liked to have his wits about him, not have his mind compromised and end up making questionable decisions.

Just when he thought the interaction with the stranger was going to die, the man with the accent called for a round of pilsner for the both of them. Well, that was certainly unusual, though Jamie wasn't going to complain about having a beer, hell, he might even pick up the next round if he decided that he liked the man enough. Jamie nodded lightly to the bartender as he was given a glass of the ale before turning his gaze once again to the stranger, a bit curious as to what had possessed him to do that, he didn't really look familiar or anything.

Jamie listened to him speak, asking about the behaviour of the women here in Estonia. He blinked, thinking on it, he wasn't exactly the kind of guy that spent a good deal of time chasing after the ladies. They came to him, mostly. He shrugged lightly. "I wouldn't say always," said Jamie, wondering if he ought to add anything to that or not. It seemed to him like a complete sentence, though he wasn't sure if that was exactly the answer that the man was looking for, as he had never been too well-versed in these sorts of social things.

Many a person had found that surprising, given who his parents were. His father, a power-hungry businessman who had a charismatic, though at the same time reassuring and trustworthy, personality, and his mother- the model turned film actress who was poised, confident, and eloquently spoken. To an outsider, it just seemed that Jamie was only a pretty face. Going out on a limb, he decided that he ought to add a little more to his previous statement. "Depends on where you are, really. At the trendier places it seems they won't leave you alone."

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Staring at the Pilsner in his hand, he took a gulp. It brought him back to home briefly and all his late nights with his father. Not at parties or even formal functions, his father had never been much of a social butterfly. His father was more of a man that made an appearance, had a couple of drinks, made his dues and then would leave. If his father was going to stay anywhere long, it was going to be at a close-knit family and friend function held at the Palace. His father was all about the family time whereas Cedric Dupont differed from his father in this way. Cedric was all about getting his name out there having fun, and staying out late at huge bashes... something his father really wished he would grow out of.

These nights were filled with talks of what the future would hold, the laws of Belgium, and family. All topics Cedric felt he had no need to discuss right now. However, as his father always insisted the future is right around the corner and it was going to hit young Cedric Dupont like a pile of bricks if he was not ready for it. Being a King was not all fancy parties and doing whatever he damn well pleased there was much more to it than that. These 'long' talks often happened only once a month, in the minibar lounge in their Palace. They always felt like they went on for multiple hours however they only ever succeeded a mere hour at the most. At least well-being here in Estonia he would get out of those dreaded monthly meetings, the only thing keeping him sane was the booze.

He tilted the beer up to his lips again, and glanced over at the man, "Allow me to introduce myself," he said extending his hand to him, "I'm Cedric Dupont," he announced proudly, as if the man should know who he was. Then shook his head a look of embarrassment might have shot through his face for a quick moment or two. He had nearly forgotten that this man would more than likely not have any clue as to who he was...nobody would, which was about to put him in an awkward situation. At least, he hadn't introduced himself with his formally...'I'm Cedric Dupont Prince of Belgium' then he would have had a better reason to be more... well, formal, and proud of such a name.

His eyes averted back over to the ladies, and he nodded in acknowledgement to what the man had said, and just to the woman in general, who simply smiled. At least, in other areas he would not have to do all the work to bring a woman back home. This would be a rather interesting challenge though and Cedric was always up for a challenge... and he had yet to lose one of those. He always prided himself in how easy it was for him snag lady friends for the evening, rather they knew of who he was or not. Woman loved a confident man...a man that seemed to know what they want...even if it was just for an evening of fun.

"And, what would you suggest is a more trendy place to be? Where do all the important people gather?" he asked, he wasn't sure if he would learn much from this man, but it was worth a try. He might be here for a while and he wanted to get in with the right people, and he had a feeling this pub was not going to lead him to the highest and most powerful people of Estonia. If anything it would just turn into his hidden lounge away from people... he would use his schmoozing skills with the ladies elsewhere, and his get in good with the likes of Estonia people elsewhere as well, for his father's sake.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
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TAG: jamie here WORDS: 651
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: notes here

Template made by
!Liebe Ist Für Rammstein! @ Caution 2.0!
Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.

[Jamie Elijah McCoy]

Taking the glass in his hand, Jamie took a heavy swig of it. He wasn't normally a beer kind of guy, unless it was Guinness, but this worked too. He could visualize his agent gaping at him in utter horror, something about all the calories and carbs in beer, as well as him having had the whiskey before. The man would put up with the occasional small glass of something, but this, he would determine to be "excessive" and "possibly detrimental to his career." At the thought Jamie had to fight back a snort of laughter, he really didn't see the fuss. It wasn't as if he neglected exercise, or even ate anything "forbidden" since he was a teenager.

Some men might scoff at the strict diet and activity regime that Jamie kept, though he'd followed it for so long he didn't really need to think about it anymore. Very limited carbs and starches, so that meant pasta or potatoes maybe twice a week, heavy focus on protein and vegetable sources. And Jamie had actually learned to like going to the gym, finding he could zone out just as well on a treadmill or lifting weights as he could with a drink in his hand. In short, he was actually quite content with it, even his tastes had started changing over the years.

Anything sugary or sweet he found was overwhelming, though he had always been one to prefer savoury things over sweet. Conversation continued, the man introducing himself as Cedric Dupont and offering his hand. Jamie took it and gave a firm shake. "Jamie McCoy," said he as he took back his hand, and then went for another sip of the pilsner. He mulled over the name Dupont in his head for a moment, sure that he had heard it before, though he didn't quite know where. From what he could recall it wasn't exactly a common surname...

Not coming to any conclusions, Jamie stopped pondering on it, what did it really matter anyway? He instead focused more on attempting to figure out Cedric. He seemed more than a little interested than the ladies at the booth across from the bar, yet he seemed a little unwilling to approach them himself. Yet he didn't act all that shy, either. Hmm. Though he did seem interested in nightlife, going on to inquire about where the trendier places were, where the important people went.

Joy. Jamie had more than enough experience with that, and had never really had much fun, though his agent insisted that going out and rubbing elbows with other well-known people was as good as landing the jobs as far as his reputation went. Jamie did go out, he simply never enjoyed it, he'd rather hang around with a couple of his good mates and have some drinks and a smoke or two than be thrust into a crowded club with actors, socialites, and fellow models. On those occasions, Jamie could be counted on to hang around in the corner, observing, or otherwise looking broody when in reality he was simply hanging around long enough to justify leaving.

"They're not hard to find, most are in upper downtown in Tallinn," said Jamie, with an absent shrug. He didn't really know names, simply his agent driving him to whatever venue and practically pushing him out of the car and inside before scurrying off again. Jamie took another sip of the pilsner, it really wasn't that bad, or maybe it was because the taste of the whiskey was still lingering in the back of his mouth.

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A firm grip his father would have been proud. For as his father always said a man with a firm grip is a confident man. It was always important when first meeting a new person for a smile, firm handshake, and polite conversation. This may not have been the typical King Dupont's idea of a formal conversation, in a first meeting, however his father wasn't here. And the man sitting just a few feet away from him was not somebody important. Not in the Belgium world anyways. And if this Jamie McCoy was anybody important to the world what did it honestly matter? It wasn't like Jamie even knew who Cedric Dupont was. He wasn't entirely certain just yet if he liked that he dropped his name and people did not know of who he was, or if he was going to quickly hate it. If only his father was more apt to get the Dupont name known around the world... but his father was never one for publicity... just the little he needed to help run the Belgium community as 'smoothly' as possible.

"Pleasure to meet you," he breathed out, in a smooth tone. Though the look that appeared on his face may have had said otherwise. It wasn't as if Cedric here was not pleased to meet the man. It was more of the vibe Mr. Dupont always seemed to give off. It was as if he simply did not give a real care in the world. Everything he ever said usually came out with some sort of ease. Rather it be talking to his father, another male, or trying to hook up with a lady friend. No matter the situation, he most certainly almost always had the same expression on his face, and the same thick Belgium accent. Occasionally a smirk would appear on his face whenever he was very fond of something he said, or had done. The last time he cracked was that night his father kicked him out. you can’t be serious he lost his composure and repeated himself a few times as well. His hand had messed up his hair that was usually slicked back in some form or another. However, that night he wasn't the confident and composed Cedric Dupont that most people genuinely knew of.

He set the glass in his hand down briefly, before slowly regaining it in his hands, as he let the dry liquid touch his lips, and then run down his throat. He bit down on his lip and glanced over at the women but then shrugged them off in his head. Tonight as much as he loved to spend time with the woman species of the world... he just wasn't feeling it. He was rather more so feeling as if he was allowed to just sit at this bar all night, drinking his sorrows away. It was very rare that Cedric Dupont ever felt like he had any reason to be down and out about his life. So, tonight he felt no loss in sitting here feeling sorry for himself. Sure he was a Prince but right now he felt like he was at a rather lowest of the low. A washed up Prince, drinking his sorrows in some small ass pub, next to some hotel that was nowhere near as lovely as his home.

He deserved nights like these...who cared if he may be wealthy, who cared because money eventually he would learn later on was not everything. And, in fact, the people around him were everything and without good people he was left alone, with nothing, just money. Of course, he had yet to fully learn this bit of advice no matter how often his father tried to pry that into his head. Why would he? He was a Prince with money, ladies, sweet wheels and that was all he needed. And this little pity party he was having... he simply assumed it would go away within a few months... but damn those few months would feel like years.

Cedric then nodded his head, at Jamie. It seemed he really did not know of too many places around that were popular, not by names at least. Or, the man was just very antisocial, either way Cedric let out a polite, "Good to know," not exactly polite words, but it was his way of saying a thank you. However, he assumed he would have and could have learned this information on his own. He made a mental note to start looking for places to visit starting in a couple of days. First he had to settle into his hotel because well... who knew how fucking long he was stuck in Estonia. His father was dead set on a changed Cedric Dupont and this... this scared Cedric Jareth Dupont.

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DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
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TAG: jamie here WORDS: 803
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: notes here

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Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.

[Jamie Elijah McCoy]

Jamie, without even thinking on it, had launched into full analytical mode, he was a people-watcher by nature, and while he had been drawn in to some sort of slow-paced, semi-awkward interaction with Cedric, he couldn't turn off his inner sleuth. He'd always been one to want to figure people out, see how they worked, what made them tick. Jamie figured he might have gone into psychology had he not been determined "right" for the path that his mother had taken. He did honestly enjoy his position in life, it was comfortable, and the kind of well-known where people might deem his face familiar, but not enough so where they knew exactly who he was.

Of course, if he were to do acting after all, then he might become a bit more of a household name, and Jamie wasn't exactly sure what to think about that. His sisters would hate him for sure, they had always been jealous since he had started in modeling and gotten a good reputation in the business- that it had been him to capture their mother's attention, granted her favour, if you will. Though Jamie had long since learned to stop caring about what they thought. If they had been so determined to also be models, then they would have done it for themselves rather than continually mooching off Mum and Dad's success.

Jamie prided himself on being financially independent, he was making enough to the point where he could afford his slightly luxurious lifestyle on his own- he hadn't asked for a loan from his parents since... Well, he honestly couldn't remember when the last time was, whilst his older sisters, spare for the eldest who was married with two kids, still lived at home and went to their father for any of their monetary needs. Not normally a prideful man, Jamie did feel that he was better than them in that regard. After all, how common was it for the youngest in the family to be the first one to be financially independent?

"Same to you, mate," said Jamie, trying to be friendly, and he halfheartedly raised his glass of pilsner in a makeshift sort of toast before going to take another sip of it. He was settling into the flavour of it now, even if the Irish in him was calling the ale inadequate, it'd do just fine. He was only looking to get a slight buzz going, after all, not get entirely shitfaced. He might be persuaded to do another round however, he was a tall man with a fair amount of muscle mass, he held alcohol well, and took a little more than the average bloke to get a little sloshed.

Jamie shifted a little on his stool, not for the first time wondering what to do with himself that evening. Given his looks, one might expect Jamie to be of the cocky, outgoing sort, always knowing what to so or say in any given situation, but he was nowhere near as confident as his appearance might suggest. Jamie wasn't awkward per se, he simply had not been gifted with the socialite tendencies that his parents had. His father with his confident, reassuring voice that made people instantly trust him, even with the Irish accent. And his mother brimming with confidence and poise, she really was an elegant woman, and as far as he knew they came by it naturally, neither of them having had any sort of coaching or anything, just natural charm and charisma.

As Cedric gave him what sounded like a somewhat ungrateful thanks, though Jamie wasn't too fazed by it, he didn't yet know what was going on in Mr Dupont's life, he wasn't in any position to judge, though it did make him a bit curious as to what his story was, or maybe he had just had a bad day and had come to the pub to drown some of his worries away. Nothing wrong with that, unless of course it was a first resort method when things went south. Nothing wrong with simply enjoying the drink, either, people it seemed made a taboo of it.

Feeling the conversation dying and an awkward silence about ready to hover over them, Jamie unfortunately kept quiet, not quite sure what to say to keep the talk going. Though if he figured that if Cedric wanted conversation, he'd think of something to say.

[Cedric Jareth Dupont]

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IT'S JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS
feeling like a freight train
FIRST ONE TO COMPLAIN, LEAVES WITH A BLOODSTAIN
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A curt nod of his head at the young man, and he went back to his Pilsner. At this point in the night, Cedric was already getting a nice soft buzz. It wasn't enough to make him unaware of his surroundings like he had plenty of times in his life. Waking up in a random strangers bed, usually some very beautiful young woman by his side. He always assumed the nights he could not remember were the nights he wishes he had. A grand old motto always being ‘if you can't remember it muct have been one hell of a night.’ He wasn't quite there yet and he was not even certain he planned on ever getting there tonight. Misery was what he was feeling at this point and time and with that came the possibility that he was not about to have one hell of a night.

He tipped the last remaining bits of the booze into his mouth, letting the dryness absorb on the tip of his tongue. He let out an unusual groan as he set it down, the bartender looking over to him about to inquire if Cedric would like another round. A small devious smirk appeared on the young Dupont's face as he shook his head. He was rather pleased he was finally getting the man to work at his 'simple' demands. When he was ready for a new beverage, at least he was now quicker at getting it to Cedric, unlike at the very start of his first few shots. The only reason Cedric was holding back on gathering up another round of shots or pilsner was because he was at a loss.

At a loss with where to go from here. If he sat here in a drunken slumber in his pity, what good would come from that? A wasted night where he could have been out getting his name out there, or at least a night where he could have been having some fun with a woman. His eyes glanced over at the two women again and he bit down his lip, giving a nod at the two, who in return gave him a smile. His thoughts began to get a little jumbled as he sat between wanting to drink more in sorrow, or give in and just drink with some lady friends. He then briefly stood up deciding the second choice was more appealing. He could still settle into his whole pitiful nightmare just with some beauty surrounded by him. Besides sometimes woman sought after the men with lost souls, they craved the darkness of some men.

He turned his attention to the man and curtly nodded his head. "If you'd like you are more than welcome to join," he gestured over to the two woman, that were now curiously gazing over at the men. He then walked away from Jamie and encircled around the two woman,

"Hello ladies, care for a drink?" he gave a daring smile to the woman, and then held out his hand to the bartender who walked over and brought a glass of rum for Cedric, and two martinis for the woman that Cedric had set his eyes on for the night. He was certain he could easily land both of these in his bed tonight, with his words, but the alcohol would help that devious idea even more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
DAMN RIGHT I'M A MANIAC
you better watch your back, 'cause I'm fuckin' up your progam
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

TAG: jamie here WORDS: 563
LYRICS: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff
NOTES: HEY! I wasn't sure where to go with this because I think Cedric forcing a conversation would become a little too much for him. So it's up to you if you'd like to reply to this thread or end it!

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!Liebe Ist Für Rammstein! @ Caution 2.0!
Steal it, and you'll be maimed and eaten by zombies.