FYFFE ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES, DISTRICT TWO

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Pronouns: they/them
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“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

FYFFE ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES, DISTRICT TWO Nov 26, 2013 6:44:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Nov 26, 2013 6:44:56 GMT -5

FYFFE ANTOINETTE

"Ridiculously gorgeous and a
total man eater, flirting and
toying with hearts as a way
to manipulate people into doing
what she wants. It all started
as a rumor that she had slept
with a classmate when she was
younger and the story became
so wide-spread that she stopped
bothering with denial and took
ownership of it. The truth that no
one knows, however, is that this
supposed shameless whore...
is actually a virgin. Her true nature
has become a secret now that the
promise of her body is a form of
power and her true devotion will
only ever be won by someone who
learns her secret... and keeps it.
Enjoys hate-flirting with the
Will-o'-the-wisp as part of a
scheme to break up her mother's
new marriage, but enjoys it less
when he pushes back at her own
boundaries, digging for the secret
his sixth sense for trouble knows is
there."

N a m e : FYFFE 'GUMI' ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES
A g e : SEVENTEEN
G e n d e r : FEMALE
L o c a t i o n : DISTRICT TWO
F a c e c l a i m : CORA KEEGAN
J o b : YO' FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD WHORE
S o n g : Every single femme fatale song out there
P l o t : Descartes/Antoinette Family Plot
C o d e w o r d : odair

Last Edit: Sept 13, 2014 3:29:42 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Graphics

5,831 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

FYFFE ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES, DISTRICT TWO Nov 26, 2013 6:48:10 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Nov 26, 2013 6:48:10 GMT -5

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"FEEFFE"

"Fuck, Karma, you asshole, it's FYFFE. Like, y'know? Pronounced, FYY- FF. Sorta like theif? Can't you get that?"

"Okay, but I'm calling you Fi then for short, cause it rhymes with hi."

"You're wasted beyond belief right now, aren't you? "

"Awww babe, don't be mad at me. 'Sides, I'm not wasted."

"What are you on this time?"

"Uhhh, don't remember."

"Come on Karma, spill it, what yah got? Remember? We go halves?"

"Ow, hey, fine. Just don't push me love, you know how rocky I get."

"Whatever K, just give it here."

"....When are you gonna fuck me like you've been promising?"

"Soon babe."

"You always say 'soon.' Soon, soon, soon, it's always soon with you, and it's never now."

"You're really unattractive when you whine like that, how could I want to sleep with that?"

"I don't see why you won't just give me the goods, you've given 'em to every other guy in this district."

"...So what?"

"Word is that you did the Mayor himself to get your cousin a good sponsorship so she could get home. Isn't he like fifty? God, that's gross."

"Shutup Karma, you don't know anything. Give me that, it's my turn."

"I know that Brian in Ms. Jenner's class says that you've been through every boy in the training center. All in one night."

"...."

"What'd they do for you, Fi, get you mighty high?"

"Eyy, that rhymes too! High Fi! God, I'm a genius. You are always high anyway. I mean you gotta be, if they always pa-"

"Would you shutup K? For your goddamned information, it's none of your business who I sleep with. Besides, I don't do it for money or anything, it's all for pleasure, baby."

"Then why not me? Why all those other guys?"

"I said for pleasure, you jerk. What pleasure would I get out of you?"

"Goddamnit, at least kiss me, give me a little something, this stuff was expensive."

"Fine Karma. Come 'ere."

"Woah, you mean right here? In the middle of the street"

"What, don't want to be seen sucking face with the village slut? Oooo, my feelings might be hurt."

"I'm sorry sweetheart, let's have a kiss."

"Nah. See you later K, I've got bigger fish to fry than your little one."

"You're a real bitch, Fyffe Antoinette."

"Awww, thanks sweets."

You know you've made it when you're walking down the street in the ritzier half of town and mothers are crossing the street just to get away from you, dragging their tiny tots along behind. I imagine them getting hit by a transport truck, and maybe that's what helps keep the burn from my cheeks, imagining their snooty, upturned faces in pieces against cobbles. In fact, I let a sneer paint my features, an arch of my brow and a sashay of my hips enough to send them stomping off angry. I let myself be seen in the arms of one of their brainless oafs they call a husband and suddenly they've gone all defensive on me, go figure.

It doesn't even matter anymore that I'm an Antoinette, because they all know what I really am. Or you know, what they assume I really am. It doesn't really matter, in the end, I am what I am and that's all I need to be. Doesn't really matter that what I am isn't what I am, I figure that'll work it's self out in the end. I don't really know when this started, but it was probably after I suddenly sprouted a pair of boobs. It is actually amazing what a good pair of knockers can do for you, and honey, I'm definitely not lacking. Here, want a closer look?

I'm almost one hundred percent sure that it was that goddamned Jeremy, in year seven. He'd been hanging out with the older boys, and you know how boys are, each trying to bang their chests the loudest, trying to look tough. Well apparently, the dumbass hadn't got the memo that we were only like, thirteen and twelve. Kids don't sleep together. Like I said though, me sprouting boobs made me a prime target, suddenly I wasn't just one of the guys. I was ahead of the pack because puberty hit me like a sack of bricks to the chest. Apparently he found it prudent to tell the other boys that I'd thrown myself on him, and I was easy as a bitch in heat.

You don't even want to know what that got me. When I got to school the next morning, there were almost fourty confessions of love stuffed into my locker, and I had boys bending over backwards for me. My father had always told me I was a princess, but I'd never believed him until that moment. I guess I'd always been a bit of a looker anyway, tall and athletic with blonde hair and blue eyes. You know, the works. I was a poster girl for career. I didn't know at first where all this attention was coming from, I actually thought that boys liked me for my beauty, for my personality. I let myself feel a bit proud and accepted every confession like they were trading cards and I was desperate to collect.

(I don't know what it is about me and the idea of love but I think I've always been half in love with love, I'm sending out my address with the mail, searching for it, waiting for love to send something back.)

It was a chain reaction, you've been said to sleep with one of them, let's be honest, you've pretty much opened your legs up to the world. Boys would take me out on dates, at first I was always really careful, wearing something really pretty, doing my hair just right. I hadn't been old enough for make-up at first, but to be honest, I never really needed it. I wear it now because it makes me feel like a total freakin' rockstar. So they'd take me out, and throughout the whole night they'd always be glancing over at me, all nervous, or their hands would be twisting in their laps, like they were waiting for something. I don't know why I was so clueless at first. Maybe it was because I had brothers, I knew that a guy was just a guy, they weren't anything special.

Well the first time one of them put his hands on me, it was Kyle, from two years up, I hadn't been expecting it. The first time a hand ran up my thigh I was thirteen years old, out of training bras but not out of training. I'd sat still, completely unsure of what to do. See, at that point, I didn't know what I was yet because no one had told me. I remember liking it though, don't worry. Oh god yeah, that hand running up my thigh, I was finally starting to get what the point of all that stuff in sex ed was for. I was ready for whatever this boy wanted to give me. Still, as he was kissing me, I kept his hand from going anywhere else, pretty firmly too. I told him I wasn't the type to do that, and he'd laughed because he hadn't believed me. Still, he'd dropped me off at my front door, all sweet, and he'd given me another kiss. I remember feeling like those girls in the stories, being courted with the fluttering of love in their stomachs.

Utter bullshit of course.

The next day at school, something had changed. I'd walked with excitement, laughing with my sisters even as all my thoughts rested on Kyle. Still, when I arrived, things were different. People looked at me different. As I passed the boys in the hallway, they'd wink or call out that I was 'lookin' good.' The girls would sneer at me, even the teachers looked at me funny. I didn't know what was going on, still don't know what Kyle told people. I feel like it was similar though to what boys started saying.

By the end of my ninth grade year, I'd 'slept' with every single boy in my school. "Don't worry Fi," they'd say, "There's a new intake of boys next year."

Well that really pissed me off because it really wasn't fair. Here there was a list pasted on the bathroom mirror in school with the never-ending list I'd supposedly done. There were girls whispering behind cupped hands, and I'd hear things like: slut, whore, bitch, maneater, cheat, you know, the works. So I was getting all this flack when I hadn't even gotten to have any fun. It didn't matter what I said to condemn the lies, because they never believed me. So instead of turning on my heel to talk some sense into these people I formed a peace sign with my fingers and stuck a tongue between them. If I was going to be the District Slut, I was going to make it into an official title. So I started doing as they expected me to do, you know, like wearing lots of makeup and the clothes that bared more skin than I should have been baring.

My parents didn't seem to notice at first. They thought the look was a phase. I don't think they really cared at all as long as I kept my training scores and school marks high. It was easy, I'd never been just a dumb blonde. Nah, I'd always been a deadly, smartass blonde, trust me there is a major difference. I was never one to be trod upon and I would not let these nasty rumours take me over. So I took the rumours and gave physicality to the lies they already believed. With a wink of an eye, or the lick of my lips, I had boys falling over themselves, desperate to give truth to the lies they had told, each one believing that everyone else had slept with me but them. They were so desperate not to be left out that they made up stories of our conquests together in love. In their heads, they mastered me, took me like a master breaks a mare. Yet I have never been one to accept my fate, so I turned the stories around, innocently reciting my own versions of the events. Speaking here of how this one sobbed like a baby when I took his virginity, or of that one who was done in two seconds. I spread my own lies to match their own.

Soon it was not me who was being conquered, it was not me who was the damsel. I turned it around, made it so that I would take the names of boys who lied, as they all did, and I'd tell them I wasn't giving them anything until they gave me a little something in return, or I'd tell them that they weren't worth my time. This made them desperate, they couldn't be the only ones who hadn't slept with me. I became a rite of passage, if you wanted to be a man, you had to sleep with Fyffe Antoinette. You had to make love to the siren with eyes as blue as the sea she crawled out of.

I've got to keep anger from sewing it's self to my bones and using my intestines as fuel for it's fire. So I don't let despair overtake my mindset, instead I use it to my advantage. I'm happy for it, to be honest.

I can't be cheated like this, no boy in his right mind would want me for his girl. Not when I've been sampled by every man in the District. Oh, I haven't had sex, not yet. I'm still a virgin. I've done all the rest however, one has to keep the clientele happy. If you give them a little, you don't have to give them a lot. They're all a bunch of children wearing kid leashes and I hold each handle. A little tug here and I've got one in my grasp. I can toss them away like apple cores.

I can kill a man with a good pair of stilettos and run pretty well in them too. I love spinning dumbasses like Karma around my little pinky. That boy has given me whatever I wanted since the tenth grade and I've barely had to work for it. I guess I'm looking for a bit of a challenge, a boy who isn't dumb enough to believe I've really slept my way up to the politicians. It is a game that I am winning. I am the only one who knows the rules, so maybe I'll just go on doing so. I'm thinking someday I'll get bored but at that point, I'll be so covered in lies that I don't think I'll ever be able to find the little girl with the fluttering in her stomach, thinking it might have been love.

"Sorry about your dad, Fi."

"Corny, I don't come here to talk about my daddy issues."

"Yeah well, still Fy, you're like a sister to me, I know when you're hurting."

"Yeah, well, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"I know, but it's not like you've just been fighting with him again Fy, this time he's dead."

"Fuck off, Bonehead. Just because you're gaga over my cousin it doesn't mean you know anything."

"I do believe the fact we've been friends for quite some time is an exemplary example of my knowledge of you."

"Only because you dropped out of school before I could do you."

"...."

"F-Y-I, I don't care he's gone. Now I don't have to see his disappointed look across the dinner table."

"Oh Fyffe, he was proud of you, come on, you're the definition of career."

"Ha. That's overshadowed by my definition of 'Whore'. Look me up in the dictionary sometime. Career is just a footnote. All they want me for is my body. I'm not his daughter anymore Corny, he told me himself, 'I don't recognize you anymore Fyffe, what happened to my innocent little girl?' is what he said. Yeah well fuck him, I don't miss him at all. I got more than enough men that actually want me around anyway."

"Stop gyrating against the tent pole Fy, it's not cute."

"But that's why I come here, for this devastatingly handsome tent pole. What else do I gyrate against?"

"Certainly not me."

"Yeah yeah, Old Crickety would have her dumb lion scratch my eyes out."

"Tiger."

"Whatever."

Bitches ain't shit,
and they ain't sayin' nuthin'
A hundred muthafuckas
can't tell me nuthin'

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Last Edit: Nov 28, 2013 5:47:56 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Graphics 5,831 POSTS Pronouns: they/them last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5 “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck	FYFFE ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES, DISTRICT TWO Nov 28, 2013 5:49:21 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Nov 28, 2013 5:49:21 GMT -5 (ﾉ◡‿◡)ﾉ～:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ here u go she is done
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✨ Advertiser 8,136 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Apr 18, 2024 15:00:32 GMT -5 bloomtodeath	FYFFE ANTOINETTE-DESCARTES, DISTRICT TWO Nov 28, 2013 5:55:17 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✨ on Nov 28, 2013 5:55:17 GMT -5 I love love love love love this.
	“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”