SOMEDAY I'LL BURN THIS BED [re-opened]

[elLIE]

WELL I CAN HARDLY WAIT...

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UNTIL I FEEL THE THRILL IN MY HEART
that starts inside your eyes. [/i][/size][/font] [/center]

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Lars had missed out on most of what Ireland had to offer. He'd missed out on his body weight in Guinness, is what he missed out on. Fuck dehydration, couldn't that be counteracted with loads of liquid!? Apparently, medics thought differently. They settled on just liquid.. water. And nothing else. They just had to insist that Lars sit out the whole deal. All in all he was stuck in the bus the whole duration of the tour in Ireland.

The band had gotten to play, though. Lars refused to let them keep him from the crowd. However the pyro was ordered to remain quiet until the very end of the set. And it did; thankfully. But it was funny how the medics spent all their efforts on him; over such a simple thing like dehydration. Lars simply waved it off, he'd never passed out on stage before but he could remember countless times in small night clubs with low ceilings and 100 sweating bodies where he'd puked multiple times. The best reasoning he had was probably if something did serious happen Lars had every right to sue them out of everything they had, considering he HAD sent up a message to turn that shit down.. and it wasn't fulfilled. That was another story though, considering he was still searching around for the initiative to talk to the pyro managers, because in retrospect he wasn't all that pissed about it anymore.

But what the hell, he didn't know anyone in Ireland; he was truly only missing out on the Guinness. Thank god it happened sooner than later; or else he would have missed out on one of his personal favorites: Paris.

He knew loads of people in Paris.. well, loads of the opposite sex at least. He'd visited it at least, oh what? 3 times in the band's lifetime. That was more than enough to make a few friends. It was by far one of his favorite places in the world, after New York and London.

Lars reminisced as he walked into the Café Ateneo, a coffee place he frequented. The owner, Madam Adeline, greeted him like few French did Americans; open arms and a kiss on both cheeks. He returned the gesture and soon found a stool seat to the wooden bar top the shop had, requesting a Café au lait.

I should take Zadyr to a burlesque show, HA! ..yes. he thought as Addie made her rounds finishing up with him. The played catch-up, her in her broken English and he in his broken French. She'd had her first child, a baby girl, had gotten married and lost a parent; nothing had changed with him, even though he desperately wanted to say something had. But Adaline was easily pleased and could be entertained with stories from life on the road. She practically considered him a pirate; or at least that's how it seemed she treated him, with wonder and awe like he was some dashing scallywag from Pirates Of The Caribbean; herself just being the barmaid who had the pleasure to swap stories.

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and the song in my head that...

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BURNS SO GOOD ON MY TONGUE.
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001. COUNT 510
002. MUSIC Blue In The Face by Alkaline Trio <33
003. NOTES I suck at open thread starters D; don't judge meh.

[cera]

Cera felt both gross and sick. It happened though, when you woke up in a strangers bed and couldn't fully remember just how exactly you had gotten there. She remembered leaving the bus with Holland and a couple staff members. She remembered entering the night club, drinking, and meeting that person. Then pretty much everything went blank and the next thing Cera remembered was waking up in a bed that definitely wasn't on a tour bus to a French speaking girl who knew only a little English. Well, at least she had slept with a girl? Cera couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. And yes, Cera was certainly she had slept with the girl, because there was definitely no sign of a male being present in the apartment ever. It was a good thing Cera wasn't one for random sex with a male. You just never knew when your birth control might fail.

Anyway, after a quick argument with the girl on the fact the Cera wanted to know what had happened, she threw her hands in the air, got dressed, and left. She was still wearing the same clothes as she had gone out in, which was why she felt gross. She didn't like to wear the same clothes two days in a row. She felt sick... well, she'd clearly had more to drink than she should have, and she was hung over. Yay, hangovers. She wandered around a bit before seeing a sign for a cafe. She decided to go in, buy herself a cup of coffee, sit down, take some aspirin, and then call someone from the tour to pick her up because she hadn't the slightest clue of where the hell she was at.

Entering the cafe, she was soothed by the fact that it wasn't as bright as it was on the street. She sat down at the little bar, ordered a large black, strong, coffee, then plopped her purse on the counter and began to search for her bottle of pills and her cell phone.

"Shit," she muttered. She'd found her pills, but her phone was gone. She braced her head in her hands and tried to remember. Damnit, she had given it to the tour staff to hold when she went to the bathroom. Great, now how in the hell was she supposed to find her way back to the tour site? She looked up for the girl who had took her order, who thankfully at the same time was bringing her coffee. "Do you have a phone I can use?" Cera asked her. The girl only stared at her before saying how many francs the coffee would be. Cera hated other countries. She liked visiting them, sure, but why the hell couldn't everyone speak English? Digging around in her purse she found the Francs she had been giving when first arriving to France. Cera held the coins up before saying very slowly, "tel-e-phone?" This was going to be a long day.

(ooc: cause cera's cooler XD)

outfit