hey you... wanna be a prince for the night? {OPEN}

[evilqueenhedgie]

Melanie Van Bueren was not happy. Though, she wasn't the type that turned everything to hell when she didn't get her way, at least not enough for anyone to really notice and trace the hellish breadcrumbs back to her. No, she swept behind her when she was planning something, and it usually worked. At least, the only thing she had really been planning was remaining friends with Ginny until everyone saw both their true colors and she could be loved more for once...

No matter, that wasn't what she was here for, thoughts of her sister. In fact, she was here for the exact opposite. To forget about her sister and her life and everything else that seemed to matter for just one night was just too good of an idea to pass up, so she had gotten dressed up and gone on her own to a club. Now, she wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do if anything happened to her, but at the time, she didn't care. Melanie didn't even tell her sister that she was going out, let alone where she was going out to. Ginny wasn't in the same dorm as her, so it was doubtful Melanie would even be missed.

Well, she was quite used to that. Not being missed. So it didn't bother her all that much. She'd rather be noticed somewhere she was rather than someone noticing the lack of a Melanie Van Bueren in some place she wasn't, if that made sense and all.

Of course, nothing was making sense right now, nothing apart from the flashing lights and the blaring music she could no longer recognize. Somewhere in her fuzzy mind, she thought of her old life compared to this moment, right now, and laughed out loud while dancing. Which, she was a good dancer, once she got the hang of it, though the alchohol was not exactly helping her keep that status.

Now, all she needed was to find a guy to take her back to her dorm, or whichever place he wanted to go, she didn't care. She had already turned down a few requests because they were too shabby or shady for her liking. Of course, she didn't really have any reason to be picky, she just cared about her own well-being and... well, and nothing.

Anyways, she needed another drink. So she made her way over to the bar, stumbling through the crowd, laughing when she finally made it out. "J'ai besoin d'un autre verre, s'il vous plaît," she said to the bartender, who looked at her funny. "Oops," she said, and giggled in a way no lady ever should. "I need another drink, please." Luckily, the bartender remembered what she had been drinking, because she sure didn't.

Whoa, her feet were tired. So she took a seat at the bar, waiting for some future company to maybe show up, or for someone interesting to catch her eye.

OUTFIT

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

Soren didn’t go to the clubs to dance. That was the number one thing he just wanted to make clear right fucking now. Soren did not dance. He would apply early decision to an all-women’s school before he actually danced at a club like those stupid screaming little hyena chicks in the center of the room. Seriously, if you went to a club expecting to see Soren Somersett dancing his little ass of, you were going to be sorely disappointed. Sorely disappointed.

No, Soren went to clubs for chicks and chicks alone. Seriously. What the hell else was there to do in a club? Clubs were always boring as fuck until you found some hot chick to hook up with, no matter what the commercials all said. And now that he was into Kerli Stewart, well…

What the hell was up with him and Kerli Stewart, incidentally? Soren had been in more relationships than you could count, and yet he still had absolutely no idea what to call what was between them right now. Some weird-ass kind of love hatred thingie, right? With a rather substantial emphasis on the hating part. Though Soren didn’t hate her. Because he could never hate a chick who was that hot. But still…

Yeah, it just didn’t make any sense. At all.

And of course, when you had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on between you and a chick, the obvious solution was to go crash a back-alley club where a shit ton of hot chicks hung out. Right? Yeah, right.

No, wrong, you idiot. What the fuck are you doing here?

"J'ai besoin d'un autre verre, s'il vous plait."

The sound of that weird-ass pussy ballerina language sent Soren spinning in his seat at the bar, about as far away from the dance floor as you could get without being a stupid buzzkill reject. ”This ain't ballet class, y'know," he replied raucously, flipping through his mental stash of personas and selecting the ignorant, drunken oaf he usually played at clubs like this. "Mädchen, was zum Teufel redest du da?” He grinned broadly. Yeah. That’s right. Soren was a German major. In the house. Fuck yeah.

His eyes narrowed as he saw the girl before him. Her face was striking a weird-ass chord in Soren’s brain, because he had totally seen it before, but since he was stupid as fuck, he couldn’t think of her name. “Yo, don’t I know you from somewhere? Uh…” He selected another language at random. “No te conozco de algún lado?” He rocked his stool back onto two legs, taking care to look as flippant and wild as possible.

OUTFIT

[evilqueenhedgie]

Melanie had noted the fact that there was a man sitting in the seat next to hers who wasn't necessarily ugly, but she was quick to judge, even when a bit tipsy, and had automatically labeled him as... a douchebag. Yes, that was what the Americans said, or something like it. She didn't expect him to actually talk to her, though. She didn't think she was his type, at first. Melanie was in no way some hot bimbo who didn't care who she hooked up with. No, Melanie was smart and she had standards, and besides, she wasn't hot persay, more 'beautiful' or 'elegant' or maybe even 'pretty' if you must put it in laymen's terms.

So when he swiveled in his seat after her little French mix-up, she was a little surprised.

”This ain't ballet class, y'know. Mädchen, was zum Teufel redest du da?”

Oh dear lord, Melanie hated German. Seriously, no French woman should ever have to speak that... that ugly language. It didn't flow for Melanie, but she still had to learn it as she had to learn most of the European languages. So yeah, German just didn't sit well with her, and that mixed with the alchohol kind of put her off. She waited until he was finished with whatever else he had to say, though.

“Yo, don’t I know you from somewhere? Uh… No te conozco de algún lado?”

Okay, now to let it out, though it was probably obvious by her facial expression that she was not pleased. Though she switched to a little bit of a sarcastic smile before beginning her rant that was pretty much carried out in a thick French accent, like how she always spoke when she was angry.
"First of all, imbécile, ballet originated in courts of the Italian Renaissance, and I was obviously speaking French. Though zee word 'ballet' itself comes from French, zee fact that suu would automatically associate it with that is not correct. What I'm talking about is the fact I happen to be a Princess of Monaco, and zay speak French there. Eet's my first language, though I also speak German and Spanish and a few others." She paused, looking him up and down, though in more of a judging-you way than a checking-out way, before continuing. "I do believe you also go to Barrie University, correct? Así que probablemente me conocen desde allí."

The Spanish at the end was not a problem for Melanie, seeing as it was also a Romance language and flowed much the same as French. So, there, that was her piece. As completely and horribly not public-view-of-Melanie as it sounded, it felt good to actually let out her feelings to someone she didn't really know, and someone who wasn't nearly as intelligent.

Though.... when she thought about it, he did appear to know two languages. So, he hadn't really had to think about what he was saying, had he? Confusion spread across Melanie's face, replacing the frustration and anger. Maybe... had she been wrong about how she judged him? Now she was simply thrown out of her element. If he was so smart, then he might have actually been decent enough for her. Well, this was quite awkward. She took a sip of the apple martini in front of her, staring into her drink, thinking that she had just ruined a perfectly good chance. It was obvious that she regretted what she said, though, but not because she was usually a good person (which is what one should think about Melanie if they believe her persona), but because of the chance she just blew off.

notes; ohmygodihavenoideawherethispostcamefromsheisjusti'msorry.
And for the record, Rosalind does not ship Sorlanie. Not that she ships anything with Soren other than Sorelind, but whatever.

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

Ooooh, aha. We had a little Reniassance woman on our hands, didn’t we? Soren laughed as she glided through a bunch of little ballerina French words. German was such a better language. Seriously. Real men spoke German. Only pussy fucks spoke that stupid French language, and everyone knew it.

Also, Thierry Henry spoke French. And Soren hated Thierry Henry. Seriously. Fuck that guy.

"First of all, imbécile, ballet originated in courts of theItalian Renaissance, and I was obviously speaking French. Though zee word 'ballet' itself comes from French, zee fact that suu would automatically associate it with that is not correct. What I'm talking about is the fact I happen to be a Princess of Monaco, and zay speak French there. Eet's my first language, though I also speak German and Spanish and a few others."

Soren rolled his eyes, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be a dumb brute. ”'Imbecile', eh? Yeah, right. It originated in the Italian Renaissance courts as a dance interpretation of fencing.” He chuckled. And a dumb drunken brute totally could have learned that from a TV show, right? Or a like, drug-selling...person or something? Yeah. Probably. ”The classical ballet all you little “princessas” know of was developed by “ze fleeeench”. Louis XIV, I believe. Also, the first professional ballet company happened to be the, ahem, ”ParEE Opera Ballet”. He winked at the barmaid across the counter, who had been eyeing him rather strangely. Fuck her. He was perfectly normal.

”A language chick, eh?” Smartass Language Chick. His mind shoved the name across her face, and it stuck. He extended his hand, wishing for a second that he had a glass to take a sip from, but fuck, man, alcohol was the fucking stupidest, grossest shit in the world. ”Soren Somersett. Fluent in English and Italian. Uh, fluente in inglese e in italiano.” Another white-toothed grin. ”Mostly fluent in Spanish. Per lo piú fluent en español. And a German major. ‘Cause German’s the fucking shit. Weil die deutsche is die…uh…fucking shit.” He shrugged. So they didn’t teach you swear words in college classes. What-fucking ever. It was still badass.

"I do believe you also go to Barrie University, correct? Así que probablemente me conocen desde allí."

”Hmm. Probablamente,” he agreed, slipping into Spanish again. He totally did need to practice it anyways. “Estoy en el equipo de fútbol.” He narrowed his eyes, trying to place a name with a face. ”You in any o’ my classes or somethin’? What’s ya major? Uh, cual es tu especialidad? Or está, as the case may be.” He shrugged nonchalantly. "Not that I uh, go to any of my classes or...anything." Cause he totally didn't. Nope. No way.

[evilqueenhedgie]

Melanie couldn't believe this. Her mouth opened just a bit as he just continued on and on about the history of ballet, which no man- especially of the personality he was trying to pull off- should ever know, TV or not. She did not notice the bartender giving him a look, because she was giving him a look herself. The princess was too shocked to continue the conversation, but she did know one thing. She was interested. No one else here had managed to hold her attention this long.

Maybe not interested in him, but perhaps she just wanted to find out what he was trying to hide. Which meant she had to play along for now, right? Her self-check system was obviously not in the best state at the moment, but it would have to do. She smiled at him, a change from the shocked look one would give a lunatic from her face, and sipped her apple martini. She noticed then that he didn't have a drink. Hmmm.

Before she could ask, he continued. ”A language chick, eh? Soren Somersett. Fluent in English and Italian. Uh, fluente in inglese e in italiano. Mostly fluent in Spanish. Per lo piú fluent en español. And a German major. ‘Cause German’s the fucking shit. Weil die deutsche is die…uh…fucking shit."

Melanie simply stared at his hand, not really wanting to shake it, honestly. She never liked hand shakes. They seemed almost too personal for someone you just met. (Likely another reason she didn't become queen.) "Melanie Van Bueren, Princess of Monaco." How she hated that title simply because it was not Queen. A look of frustration passed over her face, then melted back into a kind smile. "Fluent in French and English, obviously, but also Italian, Spanish, German," at this she rolled her eyes a little, "and I know a little Greek." She didn't feel like showing off at the moment, since she was trying to rebuild a kind-hearted persona.

”Hmm. Probablamente. Estoy en el equipo de fútbol. You in any o’ my classes or somethin’? What’s ya major? Uh, cual es tu especialidad? Or está, as the case may be. Not that I uh, go to any of my classes or...anything."

Hmmm... Melanie had attended a few of the school's football, that is to say soccer, games. If she had to watch a sport, it would have to be soccer. American football held no interest for her. "I'm majoring in Food Science, actually. I plan on opening a bar or the like after I graduate." Not that she didn't have the experience and money she needed already; honestly she was only attending college for her sister, to show her up for once. Yes, she could graduate college, too.

Melanie searched his face when he said he didn't go to any of his classes. Likely story. Maybe he was too proud to admit it? Well, she'd just have to find that out.

[SOREN SOMERSETT]

So this bitch wasn't going to shake his hand. Fucking fine, whatever. He totally hadn't wanted to shake her hand anyway. He withdrew it smoothly, pushing it up to smooth back his hair in a single fluid motions WIP