, what's the problem baby? [EVIE]

[christine]

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CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
HOW MUCH LONGER WILL IT TAKE TO CURE THIS ?
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"World History" was sorely mislabeled. Chaz had long since grown tired of learning about American history. It was not that he detested Americans, but he could not fathom why the average citizen needed to know about the agricultural situation of the United States in the 1850's. It was not as if the rest of the world held its breath while America invented the wheat reaper. There were interesting portions of American history, sure. However the key component of these portions was that they all included the word "war" and they most certainly did not pertain directly to agriculture. He found the military endeavors of America fascinating, but unfortunately there was plenty of other tidbits thrown in between that were trivial. But going back to the topic of World History, being biased, his thoughts had immediately drifted to France. France was part of the world. And so logically they would have to learn about the French Revolution and so on and so forth and then Chaz could feel smug and take a nap while the rest of the class scrambled to remember if it were Mirabeau or Merlin that proposed the Law of Suspects.

But no, of course not. Evidently "World History" meant "History of Asia and No Where Else, Lest of All France". He'd had to schlep through pages about Gandhi's salt protest and China's Five Year Plan without being rewarded with so much as a sentence of something he recognized. And now this three thousand word essay on Gandhi's impact on England's regime in India was the icing on the cake. And the icing on top of that icing was the fact that his teacher demanded print resources, which would involve crawling down to the library and digging through piles of irrelevant books for hours. Because nothing could simply be entitled "Mohandas Gandhi and How to Write an Essay on Him". The boy's face was pinched into a scowl, one thick book cradled in the crook of his arm, his free hand lightly running over the shelved books' spines. He'd been putting off this chore for quite some time. Though now that the due date was twelve days away and he still hadn't implemented his three print references, he finally made up his mind to bite the bullet and simply grab the first three books he saw with "Gandhi" or "India" in the title.

The library was eerily quiet. It irritated him somehow: the musty scent of decaying books and how morosely everyone walked around like they were touring an open-casket mausoleum. Chaz was not a frequent visitor of the library; he'd gotten sick of their late fees freshman year and decided to stick with bookstores. But he certainly was not going to use his money to pay for a fat book that he would merely slam open to a random page and grab a slightly relevant quote from. Chaz's eyes slid to the clock hanging on the far wall: had he really only been here fifteen minutes? This was excruciating already. Perhaps he would just ask Isa or one of the other intelligent and studious sophomores what books they were using. Chaz's work ethic was decisively selective. He could spend hours reading ahead in his math textbook, but studying Gandhi's fasting antics was taking a real toll on his already small amount of patience.

"The Wit and Wisdom of Gandhi": a book about the width of his fingernail. Puffing a dull sigh, Chaz pulled the paperback from the shelf with his forefinger, flipping it over to examine the author. Something he had not taken into consideration was that the school library had already been picked apart by his peers who had been given this exact same damn assignment, thus leaving books that wouldn't even make an effective doorstop for him to stumble upon. He shifted the chubbier book in his other hand, opening the trimmer one to a page near the middle. Quotes. Certo, qualunque sia. he thought lamely, snapping the book shut. He had tried to put a cap on speaking Italian - or French for that matter - out loud, though the language had a way of stamping out English and mingling into his sentences. "Chair" meant fauteuil which meant sedia. Sedia had never meant "chair" to him. It was always the other way around.

It was a struggle to say the least, to separate his dual mentalities. Somedays, usually while sitting through a particularly tedious lecture or doing a particularly lengthy assignment, he would realize he was Napoleon Bonaparte. He had been Napoleon Bonaparte: not only had he already attended school, but he had been emperor of a whole damn country, and wasting away his life listening to these normal people show slideshows about the Dust Bowl was idiotic. And then there were other days, usually when he was alone, that he wouldn't feel so much like Napoleon Bonaparte. Then he'd just feel like Chaz: the kid that could speak fluent Italian and French, who knew every little detail of the Napoleonic era, who could fire a gun perfectly, who was a natural at horseback riding, the kid who could remember being abandoned on an island and dying for three months.

Feeling abruptly sullen, he grabbed the largest book on his shelf in his direct line of vision - "The History of India"... he'd find something - and moved towards one of the tables. He dumped his finds unceremoniously onto the tabletop, jerking the chair out with a twist of his foot and sitting down on the rigid seat. If he could find a stupid quote from each of the books right now, then he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of checking them out and then remembering to return them. This essay was continuing to rapidly plummet in importance. In two hundred years, whether he'd gotten an A or a C on this assignment wouldn't really matter anyway.

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NOTES Bleh intro. Replies will be better quality. xD;
WORDS 924.
LISTENING TO Counting Crows, haha.
TAGGED Evie/Ali. :]
CREDIT BY HEY BAYBAY !? AT CAUTION !
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[Evie Jeanette Lefevre]

Putting off work till the last minute was never a good idea. There was always things bound to go wrong when you were already in a panic to hand an assignment in on time. Computers going bust, books that are needed being checked out of the library and the teacher on sick when you really needed to ask what they actually wanted from your essay. Luckily Evie had always been the type of person to be relaxed about this kind of stuff even when students around her literally had sweat dripping down their brow whilst scrawling any old thing down. Perhaps it was because she had always been so laid back with knowledge in her past life. When she had been Marie Antoinette, she had found it difficult to even pick up a book. She had had no interest in reading the thick, dull books that her husband Louis had enjoyed so much. She enjoyed the more fun things in life and took great pleasure from ignoring the strict etiquitte of the French court. It seemed as though this trait had been bought forward into Evie's personality. But let's face it...she was only at school. What harm was there in missing one or two deadlines to her lack of motivation?

It was Chelsea Turner (or more appropriately known as Susan B. Anthony to other RSOR members) that had noticed how far behind Evie was falling. It took one look at Evie's ever mounting workload for Chelsea to get on the case of knuckling Evie down and making her do the assignments. It took a lot of convincing and coaxing for Evie to finally admit that the pile of assignments sitting on her desk was reaching a silly amount. She could've sworn that dust was starting to settle on the top of the pile. Finally Evie was convinced enough to make her way down to the library, where she would be free from any distractions whilst she tried to come up with something decent enough. She was barely scraping by as it was and Evie knew that she could not stand another year being held back in this dump.

Even if she had refused to start on the work, she knew that Chelsea would eventually find a way to take her schooling career more seriously, even if it meant pointing a gun at the young girls head. There was no point in arguing.

It was with great weariness that Evie entered the library. Even though she has the appearence of slouching, there was still a very graceful movement to the way in which she moved. She glided to the nearest table, placing her essay's that she was about to tackle on one side of the table and her bag on the other. Evie wasn't even sure what assignments she had grabbed. She was pretty sure that one of them had a deadline from the week before, but she couldn't be certain. It was likely that she had skipped the class it was due in. A quick glance at the title made her grimmace. Biology. Blergh! Just looking at the title confused her on what she was having to write about. She was pretty sure that she had not learnt any of the words that was standing out to her. What on earth did 'mitosis' mean?!

It wasn't until then that she noticed a blonde hair sophomore emerging from the library shelves with a few books in his arms. Her nose instantly wrinkled as she realised who he was. Chaz Tyrone Conte. He bothered her so much with his egotistical confidence and his hot-headedness which admitedly she found secretly hillarious. These little negative quality's of his personality hardly upset her though. It was the fact that he was the reincarnate of Napoleon Bonaparte that really grated on Mar...Evie. The fact that he could justify the revolution, justify the cruel, evil, twisted things that had been done to her, her friends and her family made her blood boil. Although he hadn't singlehandedly condemned herself and almost everyone else that she had known to death, she still blamed him for the ruin of her life and for the ruin of the monarchy. Bile rose in her throat as she stared him down and a scathing noise came out of her mouth before she could control it.

The rule of keeping RSOR a secret to the 'normals' in the school and the town was sometimes hard to follow for Evie. Occasionally, she would slip up every once in a while in front of 'normals' when a bit of French would slip out, so fluent that she sounded exactly like a native of France, or when she was sitting in history class and the subject of the French Revolution and the downfall of the monarchy would cause her to make some rather biased and angry protests. When she came face to face with Chaz/Napoleon however, keeping the secret was a terribly hard thing to do.

Word count: 858
Tags: Chaz/Christina
Thoughts: Hmmmm Im hungry!

[christine]

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CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
HOW MUCH LONGER WILL IT TAKE TO CURE THIS ?
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Chaz actually had not noticed the other French reincarnate, dully engrossed in the book he had randomly flipped open. It wasn't until he heard a dry, scathing noise the table beside him that he glanced up, irritation crossing his face before he ever noticed the speaker. Seeing Evie, he returned her venomous expression with a look of barefaced annoyance of his own. Perhaps it was because he had known her in the past, but it was difficult to think of her as "Evie". She was always that flighty, superfluous queen hidden beneath a teenage shell to him. He'd never met her in person, granted. He didn't need to. One couldn't walk down the streets for five minutes without being reminded of her, whether it be her name plastered across the papers or tales of her recent scandal floating around town. He had always thought her to be an ideal match to her spineless and bumbling husband.

Chaz's tongue pressed irritably to his teeth, both of his hands curling into loose fists. His luck that obviously she would have to be here, leering at him from less than ten feet away. Chaz was not the sort of person to take the high road, either; if she was going to hiss at him, then he certainly was not going to sit quietly and endure her scalding looks.

"If it isn't the whore.

[/color]" He replied lowly, suddenly extremely interested in his Gandhi book. Chaz flipped a page nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the print though he wasn't absorbing a single word. Keeping his past self a secret was a frequent problem, especially when Son Altesse Royale Madame Marie Antoinette was thrown into the mix. Referring to her as "The Austrian Whore" would be a bit odd considering Evie wasn't Austrian in the least, though nothing was going to prevent him from calling her "the whore". Chaz couldn't remember the last time he'd called her "Evie". Probably before he'd known she was Marie Antoinette, back when he simply knew her as the drop-dead gorgeous blonde junior. It had been rather embarrassing - and depressing, though he had tried to smother that emotion - when he learned of whom she was a reincarnate. The boy's thumb and forefinger rubbed against page of the book. If Evie ever learned that he had thought that - ha, he'd never hear the end of it.

He sneaked a glance upwards to her, staring intensely at her pale face framed by long blonde hair before giving a harsh huff, staring back at his book. He had never had anything against her - Marie Antoinette, rather. She was a stupid woman chained to a poor leader; the Revolution was utterly necessary, as was their dethronement. Similarly, he could not understand her immense hatred towards him. Well, not entirely. He did agree with the Revolution: not the mass guillotining, but the fact that the French monarchy needed an upheaval followed by long-forgotten stability. But she always acted as if he was the damn executioner or the leader of the entire Revolution itself. At first he'd attempted to rally back with logic, retaliating that he had never been involved with the executions, that he spent much of the Revolution in Corsica.

She hadn't listened, or cared. Chaz was beginning to feel like a scapegoat, though... Here he was indecisive, because he most definitely did not appreciate being snipped at or debating the French Revolution with a haughty woman whose opinions were set in stone. But somewhere deep down, he did have to admit he enjoyed their spats, to a degree. He always refused to ignore her, refused to lie and agree with her, refused to get up and walk away.

"So what are you doing here?[/color]" He asked casually, though his voice was tense. Chaz flipped another page in his book without having read so much as a single word on the previous page. "These books look a little thick for your liking.[/color]" His words were dry, his hand on his lap digging into his thigh. He didn't know how she could so easily get underneath his skin, but it was an art of hers. Chaz craned his head upwards, looking over the title of the book she was reading. Biology. A subject he found intensely boring, not that he would sympathize with her on that.

"Mi-to-sis? That's an awfully big word, too.[/color]" He commented, attempting to sound nonchalant. Another page flip. "Three whole syllables.[/color]" This was becoming petty, though when he was around her, he found it difficult to stop himself.[/blockquote]
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NOTES Fwee.
WORDS 760.
LISTENING TO Nothing.
TAGGED Evie/Ali. :]
CREDIT BY HEY BAYBAY !? AT CAUTION !
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[Evie Jeanette Lefevre]

Evie had been in a perfectly good mood before she had set her sights on Chaz. Now frustration was swiftly settling in to be the dominant emotion that she could feel. Just looking at him annoyed her immensely. The way he smugly looked over to ehr and then back to his book, as if he was ignoring her. She knew it wouldn't be long before he made some sort of snide comment to her. Although they were not exactly the best of friends, she knew him pretty well from the numerous arguments that they had gotten into and knew it would only be a matter of time before the urge for him to spite her would take over. She was the same. She could not be in the same room as him without making some sort of comment. As these thoughts were racing through her head she suddenly noticed how blonde his hair was looking today and that the light in the library seemed to exentuate his cheekbones. And then he reffered to her as 'the whore'.

Evie would take no prisoners now. If he wanted a fight, he would get one. She slammed the book on mitosis onto her table and sat down, noting the stony look on his face. Bingoooo! "What's up with you? Table too high?" It took a lot of self control to stop herself from laughing. She knew for a fact that making a comment about his height to his face was a sure fire way to a pretty good argument. She hoped that he would take the bait.

Honestly, to an outsider of their small bubble of hatred they were just as bad as each other. One could simply walk into the same room, be the bigger person and ignore the jibes. But no. They always had to sink to each other's level and try and out do each other with petty insults and nasty remarks. He was not acting like the legend that he was, and she was certainly not acting like a queen. Although there was that time that she had purposely ignore the King's mistress just for her and the Aunt's amusement...but that was completely different. The woman was a whore from every brothel house in Paris for goodness sake!

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She shot at him when he asked what she was up to. She ignored his next comment about what she was studying and shot a look over to the book in his hands. Gandhi? Oh gosh this was just too easy! "Gandhi? So your reading about how to be a true leader then?" She took the time to let it sink in a little bit and then smiled sweetly.

She could imagine Susan/Chelsea's reaction if she was sitting here listening to this exchange of abuse. She knew that it grated on her....hell the whole of the RSOR was probably irritated by the constant sniping. It was correct in preparing for any conflicts and differences that should ignite between such a diversity of historical figures. Evie had not thought she would be one of the ones with a dispute on her hands. She knew now that the other RSOR members had known there would be trouble when Napoleon Bonaparte and Marie Antoinette were thrust together in this small society. Evie had seriously considered trying to avoid Chaz as much as possible. But in all honesty, it was just too fun. There was something other than hatred there that made her want to stay just that little bit longer to wind him up.

Word count: 626...blah short! I blame the time XD
Tags: Chaz/Christina
Thoughts: Boats and hoes, boats and hoes...

[christine]

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CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
HOW MUCH LONGER WILL IT TAKE TO CURE THIS ?
_________________________________________________

He could not stifle the triumphant smirk that crossed his face as he heard her book slam onto the table. No matter how many times he called her "the whore" it never got old; he always felt so horribly victorious seeing her scowl or her cheeks flush. In this case it was short-lived, however. In hindsight he really should have been use to the height jabs; they reared up in every single argument he and Evie had. As soon as the table comment left her lips Chaz's face flashed into a scowl. He looked to her glaringly, loudly slamming his book shut. He was not that short - now or back then. Just because he hadn't worn high heels or tall boots in the past did not mean he was freakishly short; it had been everyone else that was too damn tall. As for now - his parents maintained that he was still going to hit a growth spurt or something. Besides, Evie always wore those stupid boots or heels that must add at least three inches to her height. Not that he made a habit of noticing her footwear or anything.

He refused to dignify her comment with a response, instead simply seething as he glowered at her. She had an inane ability to being able to strip all of his dignity from him, reducing him to a squabbling teenager that was sensitive about his height. Chaz liked to think that he was better than her - that was partially fact-based; he certainly did not plunge France into debt with his carefree spending - but really they were both equally as juvenile when it came to their arguments. Chaz would never admit it out loud, but he and the former queen shared quite a few traits. Realizing that he had quite a bit in common with the woman whose solution to poverty was to tell the peasants to eat cake was horrifying. So instead he tried to focus on the differences. For one, Evie was female. That was a key difference. And she liked spending money on herself. His list rather broke down after that.

Chaz gave a snort at her reply. He wasn't sure what the intended answer was to that question. She certainly wasn't studying or writing anything. "I don't know, wandering around the library with a stack of books?" He snipped, noticing the sheer volume of assignments she had. It made his three books look miniscule. If she wasn't such a cagna he might have actually felt sorry for her. He of all people could understand what it was like to be royalty forced to re-attend school. Except he embarrassingly did not know a lot of what he was learning. History had progressed, science had changed, and new books had been written. Plus Napoleon had dropped out of high school to go to military school. Chaz could not understand why this was not an option now. He paused, the added snidely; "It's a good try, but it doesn't actually make you look any more intelligent."

At the mentioning of Gandhi he reflexively looked down to the back of the book in front of him. A true leader? Sure, Gandhi had displayed commendable qualities in his ability to rally and unite the Indian people, but really Evie's comment was an example of the pot calling the snowflake black. He glanced back to her, partially smug and partially disbelieving. She would really bring that up? Surely she could not think that she was a superior leader to him. "Maybe you ought to read it, then." He responded smoothly, giving her a challenging look. It never occurred to him how ridiculous their argument would seem to any outsider. He did cast a glance around the room, though the other library occupants seemed busy with their own schoolwork. As long as no one was listening, he figured he might as well probe her further.

"Actually, you both have quite a bit in common." His tone was surprisingly not sarcastic. Chaz played with the book's fringe, feigning absentmindedness. He knew the former queen's sensitive spots, just as she knew his. "Both of you certainly do know how to start a revolution." He stated calmly, his face unexpressive. Though maintaining his gaze on his closed book he did sneak a look up towards her. He'd never admit it, but his intentions were never to hurt or offend her. Still, it wasn't his fault that she was such an inept ruler, he reasoned. And besides, she had started it with the height comment.

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NOTES Aaaand right into the French Revolution. Whoo.
WORDS 760. Crud, it's not even that late here. xD
LISTENING TO Nothing.
TAGGED Evie/Ali. :]
CREDIT BY HEY BAYBAY !? AT CAUTION !
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[Evie Jeanette Lefevre]

Ahhhh. It was always a good feeling when Evie managed to annoy Chaz that much that the annoying and self centered side of him was gone and all that was left was a coward. Evie backtracked a little in this thinking. Not Chaz as such, if she was honest. But Napoleon was a different story...Evie was pretty stubborn as hell when it came to his part in the revolution. She refused to acknowledge that he hadn't been near Paris or Versailles at the time. Perhaps it was the injustice of it all. She had never truly had a single person to blame it on. Now that there was someone here with her in this era who had been on opposing sides...well it made it a little bit easier to grieve over. Admittedly she did feel a little bit bad at the way she was treating him...but the way he talked to her, judged her for the propaganda that got out of control...he wasn't exactly innocent in this either. Honestly, it would be nice for him to take the time out to sit down and let her explain what really went on. But would he? And would she let him talk her round to his views and opinions? Evie didn't see that outcome at all.

Her comment about his height didnt make her feel bad at all. She knew his sensitive spots just as much as he knew hers. If he hadn't called her 'the whore' then she would not have made a dig at something that obviously bothered him. However, he knew that being called a whore grated on her...for the last time it wasn't true!!! Damn you propaganda! If he was too stubborn to realise that...well then he'd just have to man up and take the insults. Admittedly, it was a lovely sound to hear his book slamming against itself. It was hard to stiffle a chuckled. Wow it really was incredibly easy to wind him up! She looked up at his stony face, feigning a look of innocence. She figured that not even acknowledging that she had annoyed him yet again would wind him up even further. It really was petty.

She rolled her eyes at his reply to what she was doing. Come on Chaz, you could do better than that! "If you must know I'm catching up with homework" Evie grimmaced slightly at this sentence. Catching up was one thing. She remembered the pile still sitting in her dorm room, gathering dust by the second and shuddered slightly. Just the thought of tackling those was off putting but so was staying behind another year. She'd take the essay writing anyday. The intelligence comment bounced right off of her. Evie wasn't insecure enought for something like that to hurt her. Honestly...having intelligence just didn't interest her. She'd much rather be out and about with friends having a good time rather than being stuck in with a big fat book on calculus.

Evie even went as far as to laugh when he remarked back on reading up about being a true leader. Even she could see that this was turning into a bit of a silly argument. Was she going to back down though? Nope. If she was honest with herself it wasnt just about pride. She kind of enjoyed being around him, even though he was a total....douchebag was a pretty good word to use to desscribe him. He was a douchebag to her anyway...she didn't know how he treated anyone else. She contemplated what it would be like if one of them had been a completely different historical figure. They would probably have gotten on a hell of a lot better that they were now. She crinkled her nose a little at this thought. She would not be caught dead being friendly with this guy!

Evie was doing a pretty good job of ignoring his small jibes. She knew exactly what he was doing. She was not going to raise to the bait. She would remain calm...levelheaded. She'd had a lot of practice ignoring lies and rumours in the past. She was certainly capable enough of ignoring the snide remarks of a fifteen year old boy. And then he had to throw the revolution into the mix.

Evie suddenly turned to look at him, a look of pain and anger mixed among many other negative emotions which were running through her body. "Don't you dare mention....that! You have no idea what I went through. Do you realise my husband, my best friends, my children were taken away for me never to see them again? You and your sick, twisted...you ruined my life and everyone's I knew!" Evie had had enough. She stood up quickly her face flushed. "By the way, you spelt your last name wrong. There should be a u instead o and no e at the end"

Word count: 861
Tags: Chaz/Christina
Thoughts: Annnnnnd she's snapped!