|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2009 8:28 pm
The summer nights brought many things.
Longer days... Fiery sunsets...
Bugs.
Not just little insects, either. Big ones. Scary ones. Ones with bug eyes and beady eyes. Ones that were small and quiet, ones that were big, dirty, and made far too much noise. Some bugs were beautiful on the outside; others were ugly through and through... But the ones she hated most? The ones she wished never existed in the first place, or were never at least made known to her as any kind of specimen of bug?
These...were the bugs that frequented her workplace.
They fit into every category of insect possible, and she hated them. They were loud, quiet, shy, obnoxious, beautiful, ugly, lazy, workaholics, but most of all... They drank and smoked and worked her as hard as they were allowed to and when that wasn't enough? They liked to try and get friendly, tried to give her pet names and unwanted attention, thinking it was funny or that she appreciated it. In fact, most of them thought they knew she was flattered... When in reality, she just sucked it up because it was her job. She needed to tolerate their insensitivity, or else lose her income, her lifeline, her... Well, if she didn't have that job, it would be scraping through every other employer she could get to, and that was a risk she didn't want to take with her already unstable finances.
Finances.
That was another thing summer brought... An influx of money.
When summer pulled through, people would travel more, trafficking their wares, crafts and whatnot and, when they profited, would celebrate their success with a drink or several.
Sitting off in one of the tavern's dimly lit corners just to take a personal breather, the pint-sized brunette couldn't help but jump a bit when one of the more slovenly men situated at the main aisle of tables slammed his glass upon the table. His guttural guffawing was only broken up by the intermittent sounds of people laughing and exclaiming of the mess he'd made, shattering the bottom of the cup and spilling his alcohol everywhere.
"Girl! Get that mess, pick up the slack! Can't have you just sitting around, that wood's going to..."
Standing quickly, losing the sound of her overseer's deep and nagging voice, the tiny woman quickly made her way to the mens' table, rag and replacement mug in hand; booted heels clunked minutely in a quick pace, her bundle of curls bouncing in a ponytail down her back, swinging out widely as she pivoted right around the customer's end of the table, bending to wipe up the mess quickly and without speaking.
The drunken man to her side must have caught notice of her finally, because her delicately pointed ears perked up just lightly at hearing them speak of her. The voice closest to her was slurred, loud, and weighted down by a thick, foreign accent; at first it was distant, not directed towards her and though, when she made to stand, the voice still sounded off to her even as she realized he was speaking to her, one meaty, foreign hand resting between her shoulder blades.
"Aye, wee broad, ye dinnae have ta dew tha'! Actually, if ye'll have bit ova bite with mah frien's an' me'self..."
He was asking her to eat with them? What?
Faking a coquettishly shy smile, the curly-haired brunette looked away from the entire table of men as she stood, offering only a small bow towards them.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me... The mess is already cleaned anyways, and..." Trailing off for just a moment, she could hear her boss grumbling about 'useless workers' and whatnot... Obviously he wasn't happy, expecting more than likely to simply sit around and waste time... She was new. Obviously, he didn't know her very well; eating with these people was the last thing on her mind.
"...and if you'll excuse me, I have other customers to tend. Have a good evening," Nodding to the men, the half-elf returned her cleaning things behind the bar before returning once more to her small hiding spot in the corner; it was a relatively slow night, so there weren't many people to serve, regardless of what she'd said to the foreigner. Hiding out in the shadows of the room and just taking a breather suited her just fine, just short enough to duck behind a stool for a few minutes before finally popping out to wander around the tavern once more, pretending to be busy.
Oh, what a waste of time work was. Joy.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 05, 2010 4:47 pm
It was shiny.
Vibrant and crimson against a world of dull browns and grays…
It was the Forbidden Fruit.
…Okay, so it was only an apple.
But he wanted it.
Dainty feet clad in deep azure leather walked with a stealthy grace within the city’s bazaar, high heels adding length and shapely form to cream colored legs. While one of the boots ended mid-calf, the other extended to just over his knee, though both exposed skin so cared for, there was nary a flaw. Adorning the shopper’s upper body was a skin tight, neon orange shirt, paired with shorts that barely skirted the border of scandalous. Over all this was a strangely sewed, dark blue jacket of sorts. With off shoulder sleeves and straps of matching orange to hold the whole thing together, complete with carrot colored hemming and a belt to wrap around his waist, the overcoat resembled a promiscuous geisha’s attire.
Whether or not the man noticed the odd stares of onlookers or overheard their curious gossiping, he did not give any indication of it. He was on a mission, and he would carry it out to the finish.
Lavender irises did not even gaze in the direction of his quarry, lingering instead on wares of intrinsic value such as jewelry or fine clothes. But slowly and steadily, he approached the fruit stand, the vender polishing his wares as he whistled and began to pack up his stall for the day. He did not seem a particularly vehement or generous man, his belly was no overwhelming nor nonexistent…he was simply average. A hard worker attempting to make ends meet.
As if that was supposed to make him feel bad for what he was about to do?
Feet treading the dirt floor, managing to avoid the flurry of animals having escaped from their cages and children running around the marketplace, the eccentrically dressed stranger finally made it to his destination. Running a slender hand through tresses of bright verdant, the deed was done in a manner of seconds—mere moments! With trained grace and practice, his free hand had reached out and captured his victim and slipped it inside an ebony satchel he carried at his side. Then, walking with the same sway in his curvy hips, more voluptuous than most men had a right to be, he continued down the dirt path.
What merchant would really miss a single apple from his stock?
Fingertips brushing against a bright orange headband that wrapped around his forehead, long lashes framed wide, lilac eyes. A milky white complexion housed full lips, currently set into a self-satisfied smile, with a beauty that should have been reserved for a woman. Perhaps his pointed, elfish ears had some blame for his appearance and natural grace. Lean and lithe, if not bordering too skinny, the young man seemed almost inhuman with his bold features…
“Ugh…” spoke the thief, his voice effeminate for a man, just as was everything else about him. Continuing to walk down the streets, now merging into a district of hotels and restaurants he mumbled to himself with a bored sigh, “What good is a summer night if there’s not one attractive person in this god-forsaken town to spend it with?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 05, 2010 7:47 pm
"Why approach what you feel less-than-worthy of?"
Smooth as velvet.
One toned arm extended casually, naturally, draping itself like a blanket around the smaller man's shoulders. Not even stopping, nor allowing his newfound partner to stop, he continued to walk alongside the shorter man, navigating the street of shops and rest stops slowly and with practiced ease. His actions seemed to suggest he knew well where he was headed, while his hesitation seemed to suggest a sluggish steadiness, as if he intended to shop around for a bit.
"There's only a certain level of beauty that draws men and women like moths to a flame. You, my dear, surpass that level. All the beautiful people are simply hiding themselves in shame," his deep voice rumbled like an approaching storm before filtering calmly into a low chuckle. It was a tender sound, gentle and inviting. Finally stopping at the top of a hill, the cobbled streets before them dipping steeply and curving off into another bit of the city. Just ahead, it was possible to see over the rooftops in the cityscape before them, the moon hanging heavily like the wicked grin of a cat mid-yawn, all aglow in a pale bronze color. The long-haired man stepped back, releasing the violet-eyed youth at last, a smirk set on satin lips.
"But I just couldn't resist such a steal..." Now allowing the hand from around the elf's shoulders to roll away, he let it fall between them, keeping it in contact with the others shoulders, sleeve, and finally falling to grasp the man's hand, giving him a moment to glanced over him.
The man stood fully to an impressive height; all six feet and some eight inches of him covered by a fine layer of alabaster, the lithe-bodied nightwalker was as pale as moonlight. Currently dressed in all dark colors, the materials of his choosing were some of the finest on the market at the time. His top, a loose cotton of a deep red dye, was just barely visible at the neck, covered by a black coat. High-collared and delicately embroidered through the center of the chest, the toggle-buttoned peacoat fell elegantly, resting just above the tops of his thighs, which were loosely hugged by slim, leather pants, tucked neatly into a pair of black almost militaristic boots.
One of the most daunting features about him, aside from his flaxen, pitch locks or the mystery behind his abnormally sharpened canines, was the hue of his eyes... Or, rather, the lack of any hue, save for the faintest dusting of a white blue. The shape was distinctly Asian, a catlike curve to them with thick lashes lending him a seductive look.
Head tilted to the side, the light-eyed man swept a few stray locks back over his shoulder and bat one eye at the verdant-haired other, still holding his hand gently.
"Speaking of a 'steal', I think you quite saddened that shopkeep in the bazaar."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 5:58 pm
“You’re body is out of balance…”
Emitted from soft lips and creeping through the air, clawing through existence in order to reach its destination, his voice was like a fine mist.
Lifting a clear glass of water to slightly parted lips, a man with jagged ebony tresses paused in his speech for just a moment as the liquid slid down a parched throat. Slender digits returned the glass to the table with a dull thud, fingers lingering on the cool surface while eyes of the sunset roamed the tavern. Gazing from beneath half-closed eyelids, slanted spheres finally settled upon the small waitress he addressed, pink tinged lips curling up into a devilishly charming smile.
“Perhaps a little too much black bile…”
At first there was a chill as natural instincts sounded alarms to flee; darkness, uncertainty, insecurity…
Get out get out get out.
However within eyes that seemed to capture the intensity of the dusk, there was a humanity that called to the tender hearted. Lightly tanned skin that allured the lonely and finely tailored clothes which captured the attention of social classes…
There was an inexplicable warmth in his words, a complex mix of fire and ice in his eyes and a dimple on his cheek that alluded to a boyishness buried beneath a professional exterior. A mist, slowly infiltrating the senses.
“I believe a doctor would remedy a good night’s rest, a bottle of champagne, and a good laugh.”
He had waited until the female server walked close enough to his table for her to be within hearing distance of his silken voice. With the proximity and rose tinted eyes staring straight at her, there left little room for the poor girl to wonder who he was referring to.
Clearing his throat as the ebony haired man straightened his posture in his seat, he tugged at the cotton material of his ivory button up shirt, the sleeves cascading down sculpted arms and concluding smartly with pinned cuffs. Tucked neatly into a pair of thick-fabric slacks with a belt wrapping around a slender waist as a lover’s arm, the stranger seemed to represent the professional class. Lifting a long, almost elegant leg to cross it perpendicularly across its twin, the traveler appeared no more than his late twenties as he leaned back in his wooden seat.
“Or perhaps just a good night out with friends? Yes, I think that would do just nicely to balance out your humors.”
A heavy pallor coat hung against the back of the man’s chair, contrasting brightly against the otherwise shadowy atmosphere of the hostelry. Unlike the paleness of his choice in clothing, skin of caramel coasted his body, adding prominence to predatory spheres of sunset. His aura was subtle, a vapor of misting over any clear definition of intention or motive. His body moved with a sleepy sluggishness that called for a warm bed, yet eyes of a marauder were ever vigilant.
A marauder though? No, no…that could never be. His smile was too disarming, his features soft and his actions quaint and gregarious.
And so, the mist turned to fog.
“I’m sorry…” he laughed, adverting his gaze now as if sheepishness had suddenly overcome his earlier confidence, “it’s really not my place to say anything. You just look like you could use a break from a long night.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 9:06 pm
Oh, wonderful; not only was another guy talking to her, but now it was something about her body?
Back turned to the man in passing, the curly-haired woman exhaled a heavy sigh, the expression almost frowning for rosy lips. Glancing around to pass off her sigh as if she was confused, the little elf whisked away her distasteful expression in exchange for polite confusion. Eyes wide and lips half-parted, she pivoted to meet her conversational guest, expecting...
...What had she been expecting again...?
Emerald clashing with a pair of the warmest-hued eyes she'd ever seen, the little woman couldn't help but settle a little and soak in his words. He didn't look anything like what she expected, much less continue like she anticipated. There was a tug in her gut that almost suggested for her to back away, though the hue to his gaze, the familiar contours of his eyes similar to only one other person she knew, his simple yet neat clothing... It was inviting, having been caught off-guard.
Besides...she was in a room full of other people; what was the worst that could happen? If he were to try anything strange... Well. That just wouldn't go very far.
Allowing a soft smile to grace usually pursed lips, the little woman relaxed and shook her head at the man as she moved to take a seat diagonal from him at his table, folding her hands lightly on the tabletop and looking away from him just as sheepishly.
"Here, you are the guest; you're free to comment as you please..." Now glancing back over to the darker-haired other, seeking out his eyes, the brunette cracked another small smile at him. The expression was polite, though it hinted more towards apologetic.
"Given my current workplace? It'll probably come as a surprise that... I don't drink. Besides that, I don't keep many friends even though the thought is appreciated. It was enough to get me smiling for a bit before work lets out," she couldn't help but to giggle a little, genuinely appreciating his remarks; it was always refreshing to meet a decent man in a place like this. Or, at least indulge in the thought that men like him could be decent. For all she knew, he could just as scheming and distrustful as...
Her smile faltering for a second, the waitress winced at the thought before sitting back in her seat; scanning the dimly-lit area for her burly boss (he was a good man, just under stress today, and therefore being a bit terse), she made sure he wasn't seeking her assistance before engaging again in conversation.
"I do have one very close friend I'm meeting later, though... He's very...unique, so to speak. You reminded me of him, actually..." She trailed off sheepishly; somehow, her mouth always got the better of her and just carried on as if it had a mind of it's own. Even with as much as she tended to dislike people, she had the easiest time in the world speaking to them, not really having to think much about it.
But...this was her work place. And this... This was a very dangerous species was dealing with here. Human. Male. This was her least favorite kind of person and she didn't really care to deal with most of them. They were bigger than her, generally stronger than her physically, and far creepier than she cared to think about...
Thinking about her current situation briefly, she leaned forwards, resting her elbows on the table and deciding it was safe to go on; at least this way, if he were as bad as she could make him out to be... He would think she had someone walking her home, so it would potentially dissuade him from following her.
"You and he have the same eyes... I don't mean to be rude or anything, you've just both go the same...elegant slant to them that I've never seen in other people. And you've both got the most unique eye colors... You might like to meet him, I think. I'm supposed to be meeting him at closing time, if you'd like to wait?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 10:20 pm
This guy had a lot of nerve.
Resisting the urge to tense his shoulders as an unfamiliar arm had suddenly found homage there, the elf managed to keep his expression carefully neutral; the product of intense practice. Placing one foot in front of the other, heels resounding off the stone pathway, the eccentric man turned his head with curiosity sparkling within amethyst spheres.
Just because he wanted to get laid, this guy thought he could just come up with his smooth talking and pull a move?
Well this guy had another thing—
Ooooh…
Well. This guy…was gorgeous.
Now fighting to keep a grin off his effeminate face, the shorter of the two kept his hands to himself, allowing one to hang at his side while the one opposite to the stranger merely clung to the strap of his satchel. Soaking in the extended compliment, the elf wafted an impression of boredom, reminding himself that he had heard this line several times before. Sexy, hot, attractive…he already knew that about himself. What did he need some stranger to tell him for?
But this guy had used a synonym not so common in his vocabulary…beauty? Who the hell said that anymore?
Regardless, it hardly mattered what the ebony haired other said. Just his voice set the elf's libido doing back flips.
Ceasing in his ambling alongside the taller stranger, he turned to face the ivory skinned other, finally having a moment to drink in the exotic appearance of his companion. He was just the kind of man to stay away from, and yet the exact type he always woke up next to…
So the elf allowed the other to trail a hand down his arm, even allowed the stranger to latch onto his hand, almost giving in to his desire to smile.
Until this guy ruined it.
As soon as the disguised accusation fell from the taller man’s lips, the elf’s hand had snapped back with a twist of his wrist. “Excuse you?” He questioned, his tone distinctly attitude-laden, lilac eyes narrowing as a delicate brow was raised. Placing a slender hand on a curvy hip, the verdant-haired thief assumed a defiant pose, his body language speaking volumes for his dissatisfaction with the turn of conversation. “What the hell are you talking about?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 07, 2010 11:54 pm
Well this was delightfully dull.
Giving a decent show of pretending to actually listen, so practiced that his disguise was virtually undetectable, the stranger offered a charismatic grin. He turned his body to face hers, nodded his head appropriately, and allowed a small chuckle to pass his lips, all in the while making polite eye contact before turning away with supposed sheepishness. Oh the sacrifices his brilliant mind was forced to suffer for the sake of making potentially beneficial contacts.
Her hair was a mess…and not even in that fantastic bed-head fashion.
Interest finally piquing at the mention of a friend, the white-adorned man tilted his head in an expression of curiosity, taking a polite sip from his water before clearing his throat. “I have to say I’m rather happy you’re not a drinker.” Even as he moved to recline more comfortably in his seat, he still held a significant height advantage over the waitress, of which he attempted to reduce for intimidation’s sake, “It’s a terrible habit; causes horrible medical problems.”
She was not a particularly sore sight to look upon, but there was simply no life within the brunette that attracted him whatsoever.
Hopefully this friend of hers would be much more worthwhile.
“I would be delighted to meet your friend. He must be lucky to catch your attention.” Offering a playful wink as if to imply he thought there was something more to the relationship than just friends, he followed-up with a playful chuckle before continuing, “And no offense taken. Eyes are the window to the soul after all. They should be unique and prominent.”
Taking that moment to collide sunset spheres with those of verdant, his head tilted gently to the side, a contemplative expression overcoming his lightly tanned features as he spoke slowly, mist again falling from his lips, "And yours…seem to have quite a story.” Shaking his head quickly after that, he covered this seemingly out of bounds comment with a dismissive wave of his hand and a rich chuckle, accompanied by a thoughtful smile, “Sorry. Now when is it closing time?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 12:07 am
"In your satchel there. Shopping district, decent-looking vendor just trying to make a living, one of the apples on display. A beautiful red, almost as glossy as those pouting lips?" Chuckling lightly at the verdant-haired elf, the dark-haired man held one arm across his lean torso, semi-folding his arms almost.
Of course this smaller man was an attractive specimen... If he could hear the words, the other had been expecting, he'd probably have laughed even then; sexy, hot, attractive? Of course those would be the words he'd have heard almost anywhere else in this city. Then again... Was he not in it for the same thing as everyone else? Just a basical, primal pursuit of the flesh?
Why yes. Yes he was.
But he'd had...ample amount of time to learn proper socialization skills, techniques... Even though he still felt he had time to continue learning, the ageless man was almost fully confident that he could bed any partner her so chose, given a span of a good drink and a better dance.
Back to the point though... Sexy, hot and attractive just were not the right words for the amethyst-eyed youth before him. Beauty... That was a term more befitting him. Perfectly-managed hair, healthy skin, a perfect manicure and some of the strangest yet interesting fashion he'd ever seen...
But more important, more enrapturing than all of that?
Those...eyes.
Glossy and glowing, the elf had the loveliest lilac eyes he'd ever seen. Really, the only eyes he'd ever seen that color... And they didn't appear to be artificial, either. So very, very uniquely beautiful were they that the lighter-eyed of the pair couldn't help but be genuinely interested in the shorter man.
Right now, however, his focus was on the morality of the situation; even as scandalous and inappropriate as his own lifestyle was, the ebony-haired gentleman knew better than to take what was not offered.
And, but of course. It was only natural for the 'accused' to get defensive.
Just as the guilty tended to be.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 1:35 am
Had she been able to decipher his true thoughts? Likes and, more prominently, his dislikes?
She might have actually enjoyed his company more, interestingly enough.
Just laughing and nodding appropriately, chatting idly like this... Well. That's all it was, was 'idle chitchat'. Something she wasn't really a fan of. It was almost equally as boring on her end to talk to the guy, especially since she had no idea of who he was or what he was capable of, nor what he wanted from her.
Though, judging by his wink, whatever he could possibly want was more than likely something she was not offering any creeps now or ever. With a dark blush, she trailed her gaze away from his, pretending to be suddenly distracted by something off to the side as she continued to listen to him without really caring what he was saying anymore.
The little elf only kept her verdant gaze from his until he mentioned her eyes having 'quite a story'.
...Who did this guy think he was? He'd only known her for the span of, like, what, three seconds, and here he was wondering about what kind of 'stories' her eyes held? Like he knew anything; that was probably just some kind of ridiculous pickup line... Whatever it was meant to be, though, it stung the waitress straight through to her very core, all her nerves blasting to life over the comment.
He was just another pretty punk who thought he could say whatever he want and get away with it!
... ... ... Well. He technically could get away with it.
He didn't know her. Didn't know who she was, who she'd known, where she'd been, nor what she'd been through. And so he couldn't really be punished for mistakes he didn't even know he'd made.
Though...it still made her very flesh seem to crawl with her indignity over his hopefully-ignorant comment. On top of that, he almost fit the tall, dark, and handsome bill...something which she automatically wrote men off for, just based on... Based on...
Well. A best-overlooked chapter of her 'story'.
Exhaling calmly, the only slightly shaken brunette cut her wide, emerald eyes over at the sun-eyed man, standing with a stretch and heading over to the bar.
"About five minutes. For me, at least; boss always stays open just by himself for another hour. I'm just closing up the bar here... You can actually go on out, I'll just meet you outside in the square?" The little elf posed the plan to him, referring to the large square just outside the tavern. There were only two directions to go just through the exit; either left to head further down the street, or right to head to the bazaar. The square was useful for a meeting place, though it seemed more like a flaw in the development of the city, seeing as it was just a random widening of the path.
Nodding to the ebony-haired other, she performed her job as required of her. Capping off alcohol bottles, storing the rum and liquor as necessary, clearing away random mugs and pints from the counter... It smelled wretched to her, though others seemed to flock to it like moths to a flame; this was something would never understand, and felt rather content to realize.
---
The door closed behind her soundly.
It's hinges rusty, creaky, it always seemed to shriek more than simply close... And while the sound at first had been terrifying to her, it was more of a congratulatory sound now. Smiling, relieved, the pint-sized waitress skipped forwards and scanned for the tavern stranger and the (even stranger) friend she had been referring to, a simple messenger bag bouncing against her hip in a careless manner with each skipping step she took.
The stranger was sighted first, the pallor of his coat catching her attention in the darkness of the night time as she shook out her hair, releasing it from it's binding. Making to call him out, the sight of one man caught her attention as if it had just physically assaulted her. He had come! She was saved. Best day ever.
Shooting the amber-eyed customer a quick grin.
"Follow me!"
Sights set on her taller, darker friend, the brunette hiked up her brown boots, pulled on a concentrating face and waited.
Three.
Two...
...One.
WHOOMP.
He had been totally fair game. Usually, he was the one to surprise her, but this time? This time, she came out the victor, body-slamming the much taller man in a hug before shooting off to him in a bit of the French he had been teaching her, sounding very much like a child in her lack of exact pronunciation.
"Jaime! Vous êtes venus! Où vous êtes-vous cachés depuis les trois derniers jours ?! Horrible!"
[[ "Jaime! Vous êtes venus! Où vous êtes-vous cachés depuis les trois derniers jours ?! Horrible!" = Jaime! You came! Where have you been hiding for the last three days?! Horrible!"]]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 10:25 am
“What the hell are you talking about?” He repeated, any playfulness from before replaced with resentment. His stance holding a firm ground against the taller man, the shorter of the two seemed to have no self-restraint as far as emotions and a temper went.
He was a little firecracker; an explosion of orange, blue, green, and purple.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Walking up to people and accusing them of things? Who gave you the right?” A hand gesticulating in emphasis of his snappy remarks, the immortal never allowed his narrowed gaze to leave those of near white. While seeming to be overreacting in the present, he seemed to be arguing a point coming from the dust. This guy had struck a nerve. “Why the ******** would I steal an apple? Does this look like a body that actually eats food?”
He could have continued yelling with absolutely no regard to the by-standers that stared and whispered around them this busy evening. He could have and certainly would have, had it not been for the little blur that suddenly attached itself to this ebony-haired stranger.
Pointed ears perking up at the sound of a familiar tongue, he raised a delicate brow and refocused his gaze on the woman—
Oh. A woman.
Great. Just another straight guy that thought he could pick on the fruit? The pansy? The guy with a sausage in his pocket? Whatever this egotistical b*****d wanted to call him.
He was done with this conversation.
“You’re an a*****e. Thanks for the walk.” Accentuating his acid laden words with a glare and pouting lips, the verdant-haired elf allowed his gaze to momentarily fall on the brunette who had entered the scene. She had done nothing wrong, so she hardly deserved his indignant stare. Yet, at the moment, the eccentric thief could not bring himself to really care. Pivoting sharply on a heel and his head held high in the air, he began his lonely trek down the path. Heels clicked more smartly than before, hips swaying with more attitude as he bit his tongue and ignored any stares.
Men and women all just sucked.
Being alone was so much better.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 11:53 am
Ah…there was a sparkle of life within an otherwise lifeless corpse.
Whether or not the dame cared for his small talk, the white-adorned stranger was grateful for the opportunity to genuinely smile. She may or might not prove useful to the taller man, but the ability to incite some form of passion within her was more than enough to make the conversation worth it.
“I will be waiting then.” His voice kept carefully calm, he lifted his glass to down the remainder of his water. Remaining seated for just a moment longer, he waited until the waitress had abandoned his table in favor of her chores. Leaving his dishes for the tavern workers to pick up, he was sure to leave a more generous tip than other patrons might leave behind. After all, he was a gentleman, and such was expected of his class.
Slender fingers wrapping around the thick fabric of his coat, the light tanned traveler slipped into the trench-coat before making a pathway for the exit of the bar. Once outside, he inhaled a deep breath, eyes lifting towards the brilliant spectacle of the night sky.
All the monsters came out in the night…
How delightful.
- - - - -
Just as he finished pulling on a pair of leather, white gloves, he heard the waitress’s exit of the tavern. Turning to face her with a cordial smile, he said nothing as he followed her suggestion of leading. Now was the moment of truth. Placing his hands within his jacket’s pockets, the ebony-haired man ambled steadily after the minute brunette, watching her for just a moment before lifting his gaze to her quarry.
Dark, lustrous hair…skin like death itself with the same allure. Oh dear, this was turning out to be too good to be true. But still, he had to be sure…
Just as his spirits began to rise however, the charming gentleman felt a scour immediately overcome his features before he could stop it.
Short, ill-dressed and equally ill-mannered. So he was here.
Biting his tongue and etching a neutral expression onto his chiseled features, the man continued to approach the man he assumed was named Jaime. And ah! Wonderful, the little green-haired brat was leaving, and in quite a fury it seemed. Now he would not have to bother associating with the vixen.
“You seemed to have made quite an impression on him, Jaime.” He stated as he forced pink lips to curl into a disarming smile, extending a gloved hand in greeting. “Your friend here offered to let me meet you,” he began to explain. “She claimed your eyes were a fascinating sight. I can’t say I’m disappointed.”
He stood at a nearly equal height to the pallor skinned other, dressed just as finely and with similar charm. Though their eyes seemed to tell completely different stories.
“I’m Aethen. And might I suggest you find better company than that little plaything, Sir.” For just a moment, a glint of malice slipped through his sunset eyes and his smile almost plastic…but only a moment; barely detectable as he referred to the verdant-haired thief. “A man of your stature could do so much better.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 2:59 pm
Why could people not accept when they had done wrong?
And why did some of them insist on yelling at him for problems he was not a part of? Whatever he had said had obviously upset the elf before him, and now he was 'paying' for it. Even so, it wasn't fully deserved; he could feel indignant over the whole thing, for being chewed out so needlessly but...
But that would be no fun.
But, before he could even attempt to formulate any ideas behind the smaller man's added anger, the scent of someone very familiar hit his senses, horribly watered down by the stronger scents of alcohol and something...else. Something not entirely pleasant to his heightened sense of smell.
Slammed into, he faked a sidestep, chuckling at the sudden assault.
"La rencontre de nouveaux amis évidemment! Comme vous devrait faire quelquefois," Jaime ruffled the head of the tiny woman next to him, his French delicate and almost more than natural. His darker, party-goer air fled his person in exchange for a more easy-going naturalness as he settled into the nearly childish atmosphere his little 'entourage' brought along with her.
Of course the verdant-haired elf would suspect the wrong thing, though.
She'd had no clue Jaime had been talking to any other person; had the brunette been aware of this, she definitely wouldn't have intruded in on the conversation.
And, just like she'd hoped wouldn't happen, the guy got angry.
Shoot!
Verdant spheres widening slightly, she exhaled quickly before punching Jaime in the arm in case he had done something wrong before giving chase of the other elf. Only glancing back briefly, she waved to the tavern stranger politely, calling out a quick 'Nice to meet you' before catching up to the wildly-dressed other.
"Hey, wait! What'd that jerk do to you, huh? That guys is like the older brother I never had, I'll knock him around a little if you need me to!"
Whoever this guy was, Jaime had probably taken some sort of interest in him; otherwise, she'd expect Jaime to have already been in the process of wining and dining the elf for a night she didn't dare ponder about further than them hitting the ebony-haired man's apartment door.
This guy reeked.
And using his name right out? Had they met perhaps in a club setting, and had the fair-skinned gentleman given out his name, perhaps then maybe Jaime would have been more comfortable being addressed so informally, but right now he wasn't entirely thrilled with this nightstalker speaking to him so casually.
Neither was he particularly excited to have his newfound 'prey' (so to speak) called a 'plaything'. Sure that's what most of his trysts were. Simple plaything, masses of flesh and blood that he played with for a night or so before moving on from them... But they were still people.
Smiling with age-old formality, the renaissance man straightened to his full height and took a deep bow.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, kind sir," his mannerisms were fairly old, though perfect for a gentleman, Jaime straightened himself up once again. Booted feet swiftly carried him close enough for him to take the others hand in a firm handshake.
"Though kind sirs must mind themselves not to insult others. They could very well be blessings in disguise...or the downfall of us all," his smooth voice was clear and low, proper yet containing the faintest trace of malice as he swept away from Aethen, bidding him a kind 'adieu' before whisking his way towards the two shorter elves.
"This looks like a perfectly gorgeous body, one I'd love to have by my side..." Jaime chuckled from just behind the elf's left ear, his head resting next to the ear and just above the brunette's head.
Three...two...
"Eww, Jaime, I do not want to hear you flirting around me, that's so gross! You could at least wait for me to walk away a bit, gross!" Clapping her hands over her ears, the little woman whipped around to stick her tongue out at the older man before moving away from them quickly, muttering something in Elvish.
And that jerk had the nerve to chuckle at her. Chuckle!
Taking the opportunity of chasing her off to claim her spot next to the verdant-haired elf, continuing to speak; even though he knew it was pissing off the man next to him, perhaps he could at least impress upon him to get him thinking.
"You can't tell me it wasn't you; if you could, you'd have no problem with me asking you to empty your purse, friend. And if you're not going to eat it, why take it when there could be a starving man woman or child that needs it? You're taking away someone's livelihood, what someone else may need to live. That's like..." Here, he dropped his voice, pivoting in front of the elf before him and lowering his head so that his lips just barely rested above the shorter man's neck. To any whispering passersby or traveling gossipers, the scene appeared to be an intimate moment, one that would make others shy away with embarrassment, though Jaime relished in it as he spoke lowly.
"...It's as if I were to steal some of the precious liquid flowing through your veins now. You have it but don't necessarily need all of it to survive...but you'd like to keep it there, like that street vendor. But I could take it, if I wanted it... But 'does this look like a body that actually' needs your blood?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:37 pm
“The downfall of us all indeed.”
Repeating Jaime words under his breath, the man now revealed with the name of Aethen stood still and watched as the alabaster skinned other walked away. A gentle breeze caused the coattails of his jacket to flutter, jagged tresses of ebony falling into his face for just a moment before he pushed them aside. A white gloved hand tugging back lockets of black, he finally allowed his façade of a smile to fade once the trio was out of sight. Holding his ground where he stood next to the crevice between two buildings, his tanned features became that of a contemplating and frowning conspirator.
Beside him, in the alleyway between the buildings, a shadow appeared. Silently standing within the shadows, the features of the being were impossible to decipher. This thing held no scent and worked in absolute silence, clinging to the shadows as would any creature of the night.
Seeming to sense the other’s presence despite its near perfect invisibility, perhaps from extended exposure or familiarity, Aethen began to remove one of his ivory leather gloves—the same that Jaime had touched earlier. Tossing the article of clothing to the shadow-walker, the white-adorned man spoke in a low and solemn tone, still staring off where the ageless man had disappeared. "Follow his scent,” he ordered, “Report back to me once you are certain he is the designated specimen.”
Catching the glove with a deft hand, the shadow-masked figure did not speak a word. After nodding a head in silence, the being disappeared and blended into the shadows; off to follow the will of its master.
Perhaps it was a demon. A monster conjured by some archaic magic.
From the near insane glint in Aethen’s eyes, such a theory was not impossible.
- - - - -
He did not want to be followed right now.
Continuing to storm off, even increasing the velocity of his gait when the shorter brunette began to tail after him, this elf had little patience to expend on the girl beside him. “Well you can tell your dumbass brother that…I wish I never met him!” Finishing his sentence a bit lamely though incensed enough to raise his voice; he did finally begin to slow himself down to a walk. Straightening out his clothes and brushing a hand through healthy tresses, a deep sigh fell from his lips. Just as he was about to allow his muscles to relax, he stiffened once again as an unwelcome presence came all too close to a very sensitive pointed ear.
Practically jumping in the air from his shock and turning around with surprising speed, the eccentrically dressed elf was so focused on this annoying stranger that he did not catch the Elvish words the shorter female had uttered. Perfectly manicured nails digging into the flesh of his palms as the man balled his hands into fists, his eyes narrowed as he spat back at the accuser, “For the last ******** time! I didn’t steal anything and I don’t have a—“
Woah.
Breath hitching with the stranger’s lips lingering so close to his neck, the elf barely had the sense enough to remember he needed oxygen.
That was going way too far.
Lifting a hand to the immortal’s head, beginning to wrap slender fingers around a strangely frigid neck, the thief attempted to disarm his opponent by drawing him closer. Only to assault him with a knee to the stomach a millisecond later.
Whether his knee met with its target, the orange-adorned man made to side-step the other while an agile elbow came crashing down on the stranger’s neck. Agile and experienced hands were in a flurry of motion which ultimately, no matter what defenses the ebony-haired other could have sprung, landed him clear of his opponent.
He might look like a girl more often than not…but he was proud of the fact that he could kick a** like a man when he wanted to.
“Don’t you ever. ********. Touch. Me. Again.” Threat silently made with no masking of dislike, the thief then reached into his bag, obviously intent on finding something…before his features changed to one of disbelieving surprise. Blinking wide lilac eyes, a blue gloved hand slowly retracted from the satchel at his side, and in his hand…
An apple.
Holding the fruit in front of him, the thief’s breath hitched, eyes narrowing now in acute confusion. Lips parting just slightly as if to question, his expression was one of undeniable bewilderment.
As if he had no idea how the accursed fruit got there.
Gaze adverting to the ebony-haired gentleman for just a moment, confusion and feeling of being lost in the thief’s expressive eyes, he finally shook his head and released the apple. In a movement near perfected through practice, he reached into his messenger bag once more and then threw his desired object to the ground. Gray balls hit the stone pathway silently, though erupting in clouds of dense smoke.
A getaway smoke bomb.
When all the smoke cleared away, there was no eccentrically dressed man standing there…only the apple of which he left behind.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 10:37 pm
Maybe this was why he'd followed the elf.
Smooth fingers curling around his neck, a gentle strength drawing him close...
Burning anger. This was not the first time he'd let himself fall into a situation like this, either; with who he was, and what he had been for nearly an eternity... Jaime could have very easily maneuvered out of the elf's striking range before being dealt any damage. And yet...
Body doubling over, a slender knee wrenching itself into his abdomen, the faintest hint of a smirk etched itself across satin lips.
Cute...
Brought to his knees by the elbow from behind, the aristocrat seemed somehow less than himself. His previous glamour was gone, though he was dressed all the same, clothes just a little dirtied from hitting the ground. Knees tucked beneath him and palms grasping the cobblestone street beneath him, the man allowed his head to hang, black hair pooling around his head with the longer bits just barely hanging above the street. In just the moment before he lifted his head to face the elf, he truly seemed a defeated man. Fallen from grace.
But that was a lifetime ago...
White-blue irises sought out one more glimpse of amethyst, that rare wonder, in case the other man had not stalked away yet only to find...
". . . Heh..."
So there was more to this thief than he had first given him credit for.
There's always the second date...
*~*~*~*~*
One toned, bare arm tucked beneath his head, the other continually tossed the delicate sphere up and down, up and down, up and down...
It was stolen, yes, but had been left in his care, so to speak. Ripe and full of life, the glossy little fruit reminded him of his encounter with the little firecracker... Beautiful, shapely, perfect; the outer appearance of both could fool anyone that cared to take a peek at it... Though just beneath a thin layer of skin... What would be found there? A core at the center, riddled with holes, poisonous seeds, vile little things?
Catching the delicate fruit once more, he brought it to his lips just slightly, inhaling all the scents it contained. Where it had come from before the vendor, where it had hung in the bazaar...
The flesh that had plucked it from its perch. The scent of another, ringing sweeter than any fruit that had ever passed his way. Intoxicating.
Hm...
Dropping the fruit on his bedside table, the man rolled onto his side to face away from the fruit, eyes closing.
Humans. Elves.
They were all...just... Mortal.
Easily cut. Easily bruised and damaged.
Just like that apple.
Maybe not today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But one day...someday... They would outlive themselves. The beautiful, the glossy, the perfect... They would all shrivel and wilt. No longer ripe and healthy...
He could not hold them within his grasp forever, so why chase what was only bound to be lost?
With these things he reminded himself of daily, Jaime settled himself in for a long night's sleep. Any other night, he would have preferred the company of another; a beautiful woman, an easily swayed man, someone looking for the same things he searched for...
But tonight... Tonight was a night for rest and forgetful dreaming.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Mar 12, 2010 5:12 pm
Jaime would have never seen it coming.
That little slut of an elf had actually paid him a kindness by distracting the immortal’s thoughts, enough to make an obvious philanderer spend one night alone. Or perhaps he was giving the whore a bit too much credit. Regardless, all that mattered to Aethen, was that his plans would be carried out as close to perfection as he could possibly envision.
Masked within the shadows so readily provided by the buildings surrounding the gentleman’s abode, the ebony-haired man stood in on a cobble-stone street, staring up and into the window he knew to be Jaime’s with just a hint of a leer in his grin. This was indeed where the nightwalker slept. His source would sooner kill himself than provide his master with incorrect information.
“Are you ready, Nanashi? It’s time for our fun to begin.” Without even paying the silent figure beside him a glance, Aethen lifted an ivory adorned hand, kissable lips spreading into a smile before sunset eyes fell to a close. He stood as rigid as a statue, more still than one even, until his raised hand began curl slender fingers, only to flex them out again. His wrist turned, more gracefully than a dancer’s, a practiced art that screamed of ancient magic.
Within the confines of his prey’s room, silent predators began their hunt. Threads, as thin as one to clothe a peasant crept along the floor, advancing on the perhaps now sleeping Jaime. Moving so carefully as to not to cause alarm, the threads began to wrap themselves around the almost white-eyed other. His wrists and ankles were the first to be confined, and done so tentatively and cautiously as to barely graze the skin and not disturb the prey. Then, once the thread was wound, Aethen’s hand clenched into a fist, causing the threads to tighten sharply, binding Jaime where he lay with a sudden burning pain wherever the thread lay against the pallor skin.
He drew them tightly enough to draw blood if the ebony-haired immortal so much as flexed a muscle.
Then, before Jaime could even hope to release a scream, a figure was on top of him. Face masked in shadow and smelling of nothing but perhaps a hint of oil when extremely close, the figure jabbed a needle mercilessly into the other’s arm, injecting a liquid that shined silver in the moonlight.
“Let’s just add a pinch of silver to our sedative, shall we Nanashi?” Aethen had said so cheerfully hours before, “Just so he’ll quickly fall fast asleep.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Wakey, wakey eggs and bacey, Sunshine.” Aethen’s voice never failed to sound chipper when taunting his most recent captures.
“Now, as you’ll probably notice,” continued the white-adorned man, his voice coming from a short distance as his footsteps echoed off the metal walls and floor, “you’re in a completely foreign place and have no idea what’s going on.” Suddenly, appearing to Jaime’s visage if he were to look straight up, was Aethen’s grinning face looking down at the other upside down. “Allow me to fill you in.”
Disappearing from the other’s gaze once again, his voice carried within the metal chamber, the humming of machinery filling an otherwise nerve-wrecking silence. “You are in my laboratory.” Indeed, if Jaime were to gaze about from his obligatory lying down position, he would see several intimidating machines, many of which seemed to be in the process of analyzing data with several blinking lights in an array of all colors. Several vials, both empty and containing mysterious liquids stood in wooden racks, lining various surfaces while papers and notes littered the area. Although the lighting was rather sparse, it was probably not from the lack of funds but merely for Aethen’s own personal amusement of maintaining an eerie laboratory space.
“And you may notice a restraint in movement capabilities.” He added nonchalantly, the tinkling of glass whispering to one of Jaime’s sides as he analyzed some of his vials. Indeed, the ebony-haired gentleman’s body was completely strapped to a metal table, his legs together while both muscular arms were outstretched, in the perfect similitude of Christ on the cross…
In fact, the table was a cross. And Jaime was being held down by several threads, spanning over nearly every inch of his body, each one only needing a breath of tightening to dig into his soft skin.
“The table was bathed in holy water; I haven’t yet tested my theory whether or not that actually does singe your kind’s skin. But as long as you’re a good boy and do exactly as I say, I won’t have to remove the sheet separating you from it.” Once again appearing within the captive other’s line of vision, the sunset-eyed man stood at his side, smiling down with a grin that hardly reached mystic eyes. He stood in the same attire as the night before, sans the trench coat, and with the same charm and devilishly fun attitude. “Oh, and…I extracted one fourth of your blood. But then I guess it isn’t really yours now is it? You had to take it from innocent by-standers. Isn’t that right, Jaime the Vampire?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
