F01-OP Blackbook, Grand Opening

[Scar 0]

Jack was silent for a moment.

The music was suggestive and sensual and a kind of cardiac rhythm. The speed of the music seemed to increase, it looked like it was very much affected by the small Alinta that was already going. The crimson hair of the lady with the amazing smile was reflecting the chandelier light similar to a small flame. Jack stood there, momentarily robbed of words, a faint grin ghosting across his lips. She had taken the strawberry, and his composure, in one motion.

"You.." Jack was opening his mouth to say something but eventually he just broke out in laughter. Amusement and disbelief were the two feelings that were mainly reflected in his voice. "Woman, you are capable of bringing the the world to its knees."

He was moving closer to her, but with the utmost politeness, he was not invading her personal space. The intimacy and precious silver thread which can be called a silent magnetism was there between them. The sound of people's laughter and drinking was blending with the music as the band changed their tune, a slow waltz with dark, velvety tones. The kind of melody that demanded proximity.

He leaned in just enough that his voice brushed past her ear, his words wrapped in the rhythm of the music. "You claim to be the challenge, yet you look like someone who just conquered a battlefield."

He gave a quiet laugh, which was in the lower register and amongst his huskiest tone, before he edged around her a little in order to look at her directly. "Though I have to admit.." His eyes flicked to her lips, then to her glass. "You play your part dangerously well. I'm starting to think the 'saint' routine was just to lure in unsuspecting sinners."

Jack was lightly grazing the top of a glass with his fingers that was standing on the table near him, and at the same time, he kept his eyes locked with hers. "Tell me, Alinta," he continued softly, "Was that a confession.. or just a warning?"

The orchestra played louder, and it was without hesitation that he put out his arm to her, a faint, teasing smirk on his lips. "Come on. You said you were the challenge, didn't you? Then prove it."

He didn't phrase it like an offer, it was a dare. A playful confrontation wrapped in chivalry. "Just one dance," he added, his voice smooth, confident, yet edged with that same mischievous undertone that had colored their banter since the start. "If, by any chance, you would rather take your chances with another round of strawberries."

The change was evident in his face, and the smile was back, faint, as if sensing something, and completely fitting the character. "I'll warn you, though. I don't dance well. But I do play a mean game of pretend."

* * *

WC: 477

[Alinta 0]

Silence settled between the two, and Alinta was grateful for it. Her heart beat hard in her ears, causing her head to throb. Why did she do that? She wouldn't ever be so bold. She wasn't drunk, right? She couldn't get drunk - she hadn't done the quest. Was it the club itself? A frantic glance over the dance floor...there were many people being a little more...intimate than what normal society would deem acceptable. Was that it? Alinta quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She turned her hand and let her fingers against her lips. She had his fingers in her mouth When was the last time she had done something like that? Not in Aincrad, to be sure. She hadn't even realized such realistic sensations were possible. Outside? Sure, maybe - but.... a blink. As Alinta realized just how starved she had been for any kind of contact with another person. No wonder she had taken such a liking to Oscar...when it was clearly, probably, not mutual. Then here comes Scar - and all he had to do was offer her a smile and she....Alinta gulped. That was dangerous.

The room suddenly felt stuffy, and she was very aware of the glimmering lights bouncing off the chandelier high above her, of the crescendo of song. Of the shift of material and the feeling of warmth coming from behind he as Scar approached her, a light laughter coming from him. She couldn't lie - there was something about it that drew her in. Made her want to lean just that tiny bit back so their bodies would collide. Turn and place a hand just so around his waist. 

Alinta turned and felt the breath escape her lungs as she realized just how close he was. An alluring softness to an otherwise predatory gaze. The kind of smile that drew you in. A set of strong broad shoulders that promised to keep you safe and equally threatened to ensnare you tight within their grasp.

"You play your part dangerously well. I'm starting to think the 'saint' routine was just to lure in unsuspecting sinners."

 

A swallow as Alinta would reach out, placing a single finger on his temple, tracing down his jawline. Soaking in the way the light reflected his eyes. "Beneath this light...your eyes almost look like they're blazing. Burning." Her voice fell into a whisper. "Equal parts threatening to engulf me, and soothe me. So which is it, Sinner Scar. For I, the saint confess. I'm drawn in."

She didn't shy away as he asked for just one dance, rather, she accepted it with her hand finding its way into his. Calloused skin engulfing her smaller hand with a squeeze in return. "I don't think my heart could take another round of strawberries..." She'd trail off, shifting another hand to his shoulder. "I cannot say I am used to the kind of dancing you offer, but, as they say in my line of work...fake it till you make it."

@Scar

[Scar 0]

His laugh died down, and was replaced by a quieter, much lower one, something that resembled a growl of amusement. He held her hand tightly, and the little noise of his worn skin against hers was done on purpose, to bring back the reality, "Fake it till you make it?" he quipped, the soft rasp of his voice melting with the music, "You'll find the body remembers things the mind pretends to forget."

He moved, not with the sharpness of command, but with the inevitability of gravity. With a single step forward, the touch of the cloth against the other, the gap between them disappeared. Jack led without force, each shift of his hand suggesting motion before taking it, coaxing her body to answer.

The song's slow tempo, bass and pulse were now full of their breathing and the measured give and take of the dance, tension coursing through every breath, "You're learning fast," he said close to her ear, his voice just a little above a whisper. There was also a very subtle trace of the air from his mouth on her skin, "Or maybe you just needed the right partner."

Jack's hand slid lower, brushing the edge of her waist, not possessive, but unrelentingly present. He guided her through a turn, her hair fanning lightly against his jaw as she spun back into him. The motion drew a quiet laugh from him, low, throaty, genuine. "Careful," he murmured, his mouth near her temple, "You're starting to make it look real."

The music flowing between them was almost a tactile thing, vibrating in the area that was just large enough to contain them, his hand slipped into her back, and the pressing was minimal, just enough to encourage her to lean in until their chests touched. "See?" The word he let out was so soft that it seemed to merge with the music, "Not so hard to follow."

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth coming very close to her cheek, a closeness that was meant to provoke, not calm down, "You said restraint was for the dead." His thumb drew lazy circles near the base of her spine. "So stop restraining yourself."

He moved closer, the remaining slight distance being eliminated, she was moved in exact accordance with the song's slow, tender beat. Every time he shifted his weight, every time his fingers dragged on something, it was all done with the intention of making her realize exactly where she was, and who was the leader.

As the song got louder, Jack led her through a slow twirl, his hand moving from her shoulder down to her arm, once again, taking hold of her hand. Their bodies moving together with the music, almost slow and without energy, till the last note of the song lingered in the air.

* * *

WC: 472

@Alinta

[Azhoda 0]

Az let out a small giggle as the girl inspected the floor a bit. Some downtime could be good. And yeah, the girl was right about it looking like Alice in Wonderland if you thought hard enough. "Who knows, maybe a bunny would show up at some point," Az said lightheartedly towards the girl. As the girl got up again and pointed out the mask, Az nodded, "Yes, to keep even those amongst us a bit hidden from others," She said, knowing fully well that some people did not want to be seen in these places.

The Music was decent enough to dance to, and the steps Az already made in her head were easy to follow. When the girl introduced her as Cinnammon, she couldn't help but let out another giggle. "You could call me Lynn then," Az said calmly as she held out her other hand for the girl to grab as well. And don't worry about not knowing how to dance; it's pretty simple," she said, waiting for the girl to grab her other hand as well.

"I was taught by a friend, too, so I can teach you too," she said as the redhead took the lead in the dance. With careful steps, she moved amongst the other dancers, leading Cinnamon into the dance, making sure to stay close to her at all the steps. "Just don't focus on your feet, just move in and out with me, and you will get a feeling for it quite easily," Az said as a smile came across her face. She looked where their hands were connected and nodded, "Okay, just one two three, step and swing, now spin and one two three step again." Her voice was calm, and she was focused on explaining the steps, as if she were describing one of her many little tools as an engineer.

Her eyes went down towards Cinnamon, and she smiled, "So what brought you here today, apart from the chance to dance, maybe?" Az moved carefully, making sure that her feet were counting every step. "I hope im not coming off a bit too strong to you with this. I myself was not really expecting it either, but this seems enjoyable now that im doing it." She said with a smile as she kept leading the girl.

@Ceres

[Jevi 0]

"Wha?" Jevi blinked behind her mask. Mari had gotten the impression that Jevi was irritated that Lancaster had showed up, despite their doubts. Did Jevi have a twinge of jealousy, especially after seeing how head-over-heels she was for the man? Yes. Was she going to admit that? Absolutely not. 

"Nah nah." Jevi dismissed the claims with a wave of her hand. "Just got a bit defensive, thought some rando was tryin' to smooth us over, butter us up." She shrugged her shoulders lazily, "Maybe its the alcohol, I dunno.. been awhile since I've.. felt it." 

"Guess if you wanna blame it on somethin', I was feelin why you were so bummed playing mashmaker. Kinda sucks." her lips contorted into a sheepish smile. She was willing to admit that, at least. "Just gotta remind myself I'm here to have fun.. You are too." 

"So don't go worrying about shit you did.. whole point of these things-" she'd poke at the mask on Mari's face, "Is to mask our identities.. I wouldn't be surprised if half the people here weren't even usin' their real names. So just enjoy the night, live it up. Don't worry about what any other fucker in here thinks.. like you told me, live for yourself."

Turning her attention to the dance floor, she saw a spot off to the side where the crowd had parted. Offered enough space for someone to dance without worrying too much about bumping shoulders. 

"You want to dance? Before the music gets all slow and romantic.. and before your husband decides to steal you back from me." 

"I'm not tryin to go and steal you from him. As friends. Gimme that, at least?" 

[Mari 1]

Mari stared at V for a moment as she dismissed Mari's concerns. Had she been wrong? Mari was pretty perceptive, and usually right about these sort of things...but... Mari turned her gaze back toward the bar. She also had quite a lot to drink. Also, terrible at socializing in settings like this. "Oh." Her head swiveled back to V. "Thash...relief." Mari offered her a smile. "I kinda like hanging with you." V then made mention of how he could see why Mari was bummed playing matchmaker, ah.  "Well..." Mari tugged on her bangs, "We could find you shomeone? Maybe not though... I don't -" Then lifted a hand to her head, why was this so awkward. It felt like she was letting down a love interest, even though that was far from the case

Mari tensed slightly when V leaned forward to poke her mask, then immediately relaxed, she was safe here...this was a safe place. "Well, I've used my name at least." Mari offered the other woman a grin. "That makes one of us." A hint that she knew V was lying about her name, a smile to show she didn't care. It wouldn't make sense to be upset over something so trivial. Especially when the night called for it.  Jevi went as far as to say Mari shouldn't worry about shit she did, her past. If only it were that easy.

"Dance?" Mari hesitated. "I'm...terrible at-but I suppose." Mari reached out to grab V's hand, pulling her to the spot she had been eying off. "Don' worry about shtealing me from Lancashter. Tonight, is HIsh job to steal me from you. We playin cat an mouse. He gotta work for it."

Mari re positioned herself on the dance floor, but was quite honestly waiting for her partner to take the lead. She knew very little of dancing, despite attending a few such events with her ex in the real world. It dawned on her that he never wanted to dance with her.

@Jevi

[Ceres 0]

"Well... The little white rabbit should be careful. This is no place for one." Ceres said simply, knowing full well she was looking for one just moments before. it didn't make hr statement any less true. The orange haired woman in front of her was full of smiles and giggles. She explained what a mask did. "I know, thats why I named myself cinnamon." Cers said brightly. It was a masquerade after all. Identities were supposed to be hidden. Unless your name was hidden. Then Ceres guessed that you already were Hidden. The woman blinked, realizing her thoughts were once again getting away from her.

"Lynn."

Of all the names anyone could have chosen, she could have called herself biscuit, or hydrodynamic, or thunderbolt, or fairy floss....so many fun and exciting names..Ceres, ever being the person to just say what was on her mind and not think about social decorum, and how it'd be incredibly rude to insult someones name, did just that. "That's a boring choice. But...its your choice so that's what matters most. I think."

"I was taught by a friend, too, so I can teach you too,"

"Oh...Good, because I don't know how to do the slow dance thing...I think usually when I dance its more just waving arms around." Ceres would recall the way Vex had danced at the beach party and laughed. Like him, she danced like he did. Completely free of rule and reason, it was fun. Ceres hoped that would be the kind of dancing that would erupt here. Alas... it was not meant to be. 

Lynn started to count numbers, telling Ceres to follow in her footsteps, that it was easy. But...that was Ceres' problem. It was easy. And because it was easy, it was...boring. Not her dance partner, no. Lynn was fine. Just the whole...counting numbers thing. Ceres struggled to keep focus. "S-sorry..." Ceres pulled away from Lynn slightly, after they had danced a few moments. "I don't...I thought I'd like this dance but its too slow for me. When I dance I don't want to be counting."

Lynn made a comment about coming off strong, and it took a moment for Ceres to realize what she meant. "Oh! No! You're fine!" She'd say with a small wave of her arms. "You're not forcing me to dance or anything. I appreciate the help I just..." A tug of her unruly hair. "I don't like following stringent things like that. It makes me feel all stuffy. I came here for the food. Last time I went to one of these events there was so much of it!" Ceres clasped her hands together, her smile brightening. "It was so good! Did you go to the beach one? Did you try the skewers?"

 

 

[Alinta 0]

"You'll find the body remembers things the mind pretends to forget."

A small panic at that comment, then a smile, a challenge. "Oh?" Alinta asked. "Why? Are you going to do things to my body?" As the words fell from her lips Alinta immediately inwardly cringed. Such a line would flow so well on paper, but saying it aloud? It was a little bold...wasn't it? The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and with them on the dance floor her sudden burst of overconfidence was swept away.

Alinta wasn't a good dancer, but she could dance. Not winning any awards but being able to keep in pace and time with her partner. Slow dancing not something she had ever quite gotten used to. The intimacy. The way she felt controlled by another. It was thrilling, or perhaps..it was just the way Scar moved. A tilt of his head, the shift of a foot. The slow drag of his hand against hers. He lead her in a way that was easy to follow. In turn Alinta would offer him a squeeze of his hand, a touch of his shoulder, his waist, his hips. A slow dance where the two became more and more intricately entwined til noses touched and they breathed each others baited breaths.

A tilt of his head and the tingle of hot breath against her ear as the man showered her in compliments. Alinta's heart would skip but she'd return the favour, her own lips dancing across his earlobe. "It's most definitely the partner, Scar. There's just something about...you..." A deliberate pause between words, an attempt to catch him in the same way he caught her.

Scar offered her caution, too real. It was. Part of this all felt far too real. Alinta rested her head against his shoulder, stepping in closer till their chests touched. Giving him permission to press his hand harder against her waist, welcoming the warmth that radiated from him. "Is that so bad?" A sincere question, was it? To let herself fall in this moment. To have someone give her all the attention she craved and for her to lap it all up? Her hand wove around his hip, puling him closer still. He told her to stop restraining herself, so perhaps she should.

It's not like he'd want to see her again after this.
So, despite the connection, how real it felt. How he made her tremble. She would take that advice. A twirl, and the world moved fast - and as the song came to an end her lips came to press themselves against his. Soft, unsure - yet with the flickering confidence of a woman who was all too ready to fall sway to another dance.

@Scar

[Winnie 0]

She laughed softly, "Caught you in good light?" she teased back. She moved her hand up slightly, feeling the fabric fold under her palm as she touched his chest, more deliberately this time. "Perhaps," she offered. "However, could it also be the simplicity of your ignorance towards your own good nature? Is not honesty an honorable trait? You say these things as a means to ward me off somehow... to make me think twice about what is happening between us, as if it could wound. It very well may, but is it not worth it?" She asked the question in earnest, her mind racing, her pulse quickening as he began to inch even further. Either hand gripping the railing behind her as he trapped her in his midst. 

"I don't think you a bad man," she paused, "You are more easily associated with a man who understands and recognizes his own desires, and goes after them intently. Am I wrong?" She paused, looking down at her hand. It was nice, this feeling of being wanted, of being seen. In this moment uncertainty began to boil in the dark pit of her stomach. What was she doing, what was she allowing him to do? Soon enough she felt those familiar warm hands. He grabbed her, his touch was gentle, not forceful, she obliged. She followed his direction, head turning slowly. Was there something he wished her to look at? She looked around seeing nothing of consequence, another moment passed before she thought to look back at him in confusion, though the time to do so hadn't come. She was now trapped in a whirl of emotions. 

Her breath caught as his lips brushed her skin- heat flaring in a place that had never known it. The sound of her own pulse nearly drowning out the music. For a heartbeat, she forgot who she was supposed to be. No title, no sanctity. Just skin, warmth, and a man who dared to see her without the veil of worship. 

Her hand trembled where it rested on his chest, fingers curling lightly against the fabric of his attire. Her next words came out quiet, uneven, "Though I must admit, I can tell you are a bit different. You have no trouble do you? Finding women to indulge in. You are no stranger to intimacy, of this I am now sure. So what is it that I am to you? Am I another of those women you wish to simply 'indulge,' in?" She hadn't meant her tone to be as sour and curt as it had come across, but there was no changing it now. She was met with full blown confusion. A burning sensation that seemed to enrapture her entire body; he was doing this to her with every breath, every look, every move he made sucked her deeper into the moment. But no matter what, it was still there, that unsure feeling, one of guilt and shame. She was an utter disgrace. Was she really willing to know the answer to her questions at the cost of her own mind coming undone? Was she willing to never see these daring eyes again? The eyes that looked at her. 

She tilted her head slightly offering him more room to work. "You think goodness means gentleness, that it hides itself behind manners and false restraint. But perhaps goodness is simply...  honesty. A person who knows what they are, and chooses to act with care in spite of it," she took a sharp breath, "You say you are not a good man. I won't take that from you. But that doesn't mean you're cruel." Her lips curved faintly, the tremor in her voice ever present. 

Her eyes closed as he continued. The noise of the crowd grew distant again, as though the world had made room for their shared gravity. For the first time in what felt like centuries, Winnie didn't think of what what was proper, divine, or owed. She simply felt. Each move of his lips left her wanting more, yet terrified to actually receive. She let out a hushed whimper, her body betraying her, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. 

"You... make it very difficult to think Oscar." her tone was thick, words coming out barely above a whisper. Her breath brushing warmth across his ear. She trailed her hand up his chest, grazing his neck, wrapping around the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair.

She felt him shift, the warmth of his breath on her ear as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine. "I would be as irreverent and impulsive as you would let me be." If he had spoken any softer she wouldn't have been able to shape the words in her mind. She felt weak against him, but this was not for her to feel. She was supposed to be the one in charge, wasn't she? Was it okay to let others lead? A short panic began to rise within her, the truth of what she was born to be rising within her once again, she had fought against it the entire night thus far, so why now? "I shouldn't.." her voice cut out, cracking as if in some type of pain, she was afraid. "You don't understand what you're getting yourself into... neither do I." She stole a glance at his eyes, looking away quickly, gaze finding the floor. "Most men try to charm the divine, yet you try to understand her. How foolish of me... to think that I could escape what I was born to be." She let him go, arms falling to her side, she wanted to stay with him, to be near him, to learn what this was, but everything in her screamed now, in disgust and terror, not for him, no, but a deep loathing for herself. She could hear the voices of each villager, taunting her, degrading her, praising her, then retracting; one by one. She reached to the side hand barely relaxing on his own, it was a silent plead, one that took everything in her to go against the thoughts attacking her mind. She hoped if anything he would understand, it wasn't his fault she was like this. No matter how much the voices threatened her, she still didn't wish to part from him. Did he hate her now? Had she finally hurt rather than heal?

@Oscar

Edited just now by Winnie

[Cascade 0]

~PH~

[Vanta 0]

~PH~

[Scar 0]

Her lips found his, hesitant, unsure, and it was the doubt that made it risky. For a heartbeat, Jack didn't move. The world stilled around them, the faint hum of the crowd fading beneath the pulse of the music and the warmth of her mouth. Then, slow as silk sliding over skin, he returned the kiss. Not hungrily, not urgently, but deliberately. A marking, a query, and a reply all at once.

His lips finally leaving hers, he still looked at her. A very slight smile appeared on his mouth, the kind of smile that both hinted at trouble and at fun. "You should be careful with words like that," he whispered, his voice being so soft that only she could hear it. "Someone might take you seriously."

He did not move away. His fingers following the line of her jaw, his thumb coming to her lower lip and smearing away the ghost of their kiss. The gesture was simple, intimate, but his eyes still that hunting kind of look. "But then," he added softly, "You don't strike me as the kind who says things by accident."

The song ended, yet neither moved. The next melody began, slower, darker, a waltz meant for shadows and secrets. Without a word, Jack pulled her closer and continued dancing, his hand comforting her back. The people around them became nothing more than a blur of color and noise as he guided her through the dance, their touch now very natural like they had done this for years.

"You asked if it's so bad," he whispered  putting his mouth near her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "To fall into a moment like this." A pause, a heartbeath. "No. Not bad. Dangerous, maybe. Addictive, definitely." His words stayed, loaded with meaning. "But you already knew that."

Another spin, and she was facing him again, breathless. His face changed, only a bit, enough to show something real under the playful mask. "You dance well for someone who claims she can't" he said, as his handed came over the loose hair and pushed it back from her face. "Maybe it's not the steps you're bad at. Maybe it's just trust."

He lingered on the last word, letting it hang between them like a dare. Then his hand slipped away from her waist, leaving behind only the ghost of warmth. "Be careful, Saint," he said, stepping back, his smirk returning. "Moments like this have a way of turning into memories."

Once more, Jack's eyes followed the line of her lips, a look, nothing more, before he averted his gaze and looked at the chandeliers and the people that were miles away from here. "Now," he murmured, offering his hand again, "Shall we see if the night has more tests for us?"

* * *

WC: 465

@Alinta

[Alinta 0]

Their lips stayed pressed together, and that single terrifying moment between one heartbeat and the next felt like an eternity. Would he pull away? Deny her this fleeting passion? Was her yearning for another too strong? Did she read him right? They barely knew each other, this was not something she would have ever expected to do - it was a spur of the moment decision. That flicker of passion fueled by an undeniable magnetism. Then...he returned her kiss. Slow, delicate, his lips moved against hers and Alinta couldn't help but tighten the grip on his back to still her trembling form. A tilt of her head, an invite to continue, but where she was lost Scar knew to hold back. A soft exhale of his breath - and Alinta inhaled his scent. "One could get drunk on that..."

A smile, and a caution, that he may just take her seriously. "And what if they did? What if you did?" Alinta would ask. Scar didn't respond in words, but in a simple press of thumb to her lip, wiping it. "Accidents No..." Alinta repeated softly, keeping that desperate claim of her hand wound into his jacket. "Freudian Slips, perhaps?"

The expectation for him to move away was always there, yet he remained, and as the next song began to roll up into a slow beat he stepped forward, forcing her to step back. Nothing mattered. Even if he were to slip away into the night after this Alinta would hold onto this moment as a precious memory. A moment where she mattered. He mattered. They mattered. This dance was different, the awkward trepidation was gone. The two had found their rhythm. "I didn't know..." Alinta admitted, lifting her chin to match his gaze. Warm ruby eyes that lifted her spirits. "But, to do it all again - let me be addicted to you, Scar." A small smile. An evanescent experience she would share with him in all its dim and drunken glory. "So please... continue to look at me with that burning gaze."

Another spin, a tip, and Alinta was facing him again. A soft laugh as she tapped his nose, repeating his words. Throwing them right back into his face. "You dance well for someone who claims he can't. Maybe it's not the steps..." Closer now her hand landing on the nape of his neck, twisting her hand so her fingers could curl into his hair. "Maybe you just needed a saintess to boost your confidence."

When Scar stepped back Alinta couldn't help but miss the warmth. As his gaze trailed up her gaze trailed over the dance floor, watching some of the dancing couples. Alinta caught sight of a familiar ginger haired woman, one she recognized from the beach event. Good mood ruined. Even with a mask it was unmistakable. Oscar had introduced the woman as his friend...but...

PKer....

 "Shall we see if the night has more tests for us?"

Alinta shot her attention back to Scar, his hand outstretched, she grasped it and pulled it away from the other woman - "L-Lets." She wasn't goin g to ruin his night. Their night. Although visibly unnerved Alinta wanted to push past that. She found an incredible comfort and warmth in his presence. "Don't let go of me."

[Scar 0]

As Jack's fingers were busy rummaging through his hair and her heart was beating against his chest, she could not hold back her smile. "Addicted, are you?" he murmured, his voice a low drawl meant only for her, teasing, intimate. "I warned you.. I don't think anyone survives this without a few.. complications."

The touch of his hand on her waist was so light that he could have done it without her noticing, yet it had the desired impact of making her heartbeat to quicken. As the tune changed, the sensual low undertone seemed to correspond with the tempo of their bodies. Jack used the change in music to lead him, each move was deliberate, assured one like he had been on the dance floor in this manner for years, even though the reality was far more straightforward: he was just letting her guide her own moves, and he was getting immense pleasure from her response.

"Careful, Saint," he whispered, tilting his head to capture her gaze, ruby eyes catching the dim chandelier light. "One more misstep and.. well, you might just find yourself thoroughly.. tested." His thumbed brushed along her jaw, tilting her chin slightly up, holding her attention. At the corner of his lips, a subtle smile was there, teasing yet commanding, the kind that made her pulse spike and fingers tighten against his chest.

Jack's other hand was gently moving alongside her arm, fingers brushing  hers with each movement, coaxing her closer without force. While turning together he allowed her to take the lead a bit and then with his firm hands at the small of her back, he caught her and was holding her so close that she could feel every breath, every subtle heartbeat. "You know," he murmured against her eat, voice low and velvet, "You have a remarkable way of.. complicating a simple dance. I almost forgot the room exists beyond us."

He pressed a shoulder lightly into hers, a silent claim as their feet moved seamlessly across the floor. After that, his lips travelled to her temple and from there to her jaw, the whole time he was very mindful of the fact that he leaves just a bit of space between them and is doing it only to tease, allowing her to get the feeling of his warmth and the silent promise of each and every moment that lasts. "And here I thought I'd be teaching you," he said with a sly grin, voice barely above the music. "Turns out.. you're teaching me patience.. and perhaps indulgence."

Jack allowed a brief pause, giving her a chance to breathe, to catch herself, to wonder if he would step away. He didn't.Instead, he moved his hand to her back, fingers getting a little bit more firm, and he was guiding her as the music slowed down even more. Gradually, they were becoming more talkative through their dance, the slow and deliberate nature of which allowed for each glance, each touch and each sigh to be a word in the language only they can understand.

He lowered her a bit while they were turning, not even for a second moving his gaze off hers, and his lips were so near that she could feel his breath, but he was teasingly keeping distance. "Do you always.. ensnare the sinners so easily?" he asked, tone playful, dangerously warm. "Or is this.. just your special talent tonight?"

As the next chord rolled through the ballroom, Jack held her there, hand at her waist, other fingers still lightly tracing the line of her arm, gaze locked on hers. "Then.. we keep testing," he murmured, low and deliberate, thumb brushing her cheek. "And Saint or Sinner.. I don't plan on letting go anytime soon."

* * *

WC: 624

[Lessa 1]

It was a pleasure watching him. The ease with which he took to the stage, and settled into the literal and figurative rhythm, fascinated her. As far as she knew, Jomei and Lysette had never performed together, yet they complimented each other perfectly. Outsiders might assume that they'd been playing together for years. Lessa, who didn't have a musical bone in her body, marveled at the simple fact that two strangers could produce such magic. Lysette's words wove through the notes strummed on Jomei's guitar, filling the large space with light and life. And for the moment, Lessa was content to simply bask in it. She set her margarita down, then leaned on the railing, her elbows propped on the cool bar. From her perch on the second floor, she had a birds-eye view of the show. She saw everything: the cheers, the excitement, the couples moved to dancing by their music. The way Lysette's hips moved when she hit a particularly high note, which elicited a little thrill The exact moment when Jomei's eyes swept over her, and the way it warmed every part of her more thoroughly than the tequila ever could.

She missed him. Not that she would ever let on, of course, as he was clearly enjoying his moment in the spotlight, and she was enjoying watching him. But the club was packed with couples, many embracing each other, or... doing... more than that... And she was struck with a sudden longing for him. For all their cat-and-mouse bravado, at the end of the night, all she wanted was his company. That was why she'd come, after all.

"Hey Oscar, when Jom's done, would you mind- oh." 

She turned to find herself alone on the platform.

When had he Houdinied himself away? Pursing her lips in concentration, Lessa turned back to the sea of bodies rolled out beneath her. He was easy to find, given his height, impeccable style, and shock of dark hair. The pretty blue-haired woman in his arms had her grinning. "Go get'em, Tiger," she muttered to herself, then laughed softly. Not that the Beast needed any help whatsoever getting date. That man had his pick of just about every woman - and man - there that evening. But she still liked watching her best friend have a good time.

She was still smiling when the lights went out, and it only grew when a familiar ginger materialized in front of her.

As his fingers traced her jaw, Lessa reached her own hand up to rest gently on his wrist. A point of contact. Proof that he was there, and from what she could see, they were alone. Even if they hadn't been - even if they'd been in the center of the crowded dance floor - the way he looked at her made her feel like the only other person in Aincrad. "You're mine," she echoed breathlessly, that sense of yearning intensifying despite her hand on his wrist. So when he leaned forward, she leaned, too. Into the kiss, into him, into that familiar feeling of safety he provided her. Into whatever new form their relationship had evolved into.

When Jomei pulled back, she could only blink owlishly at him while his words registered. "Yeah, of course," she finally managed, taking his offered hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "I don't mind that you were pulled away. I may have missed you a little-" Okay, maybe she would admit it to him after all. "-but it was so nice watching you play. You're so good at it, and more importantly, I can tell you enjoy it." Her smile grew a bit wicked, and she amended, "Almost as much as I enjoy having you back here with me."

[Alinta 0]

They had shifted away from the Pker woman and her dance partner. Alinta was still a little unnerved. Wondering how the hell the ginger haired woman managed to make it so deep into a safe zone. A town no less. Eyes filled with concern shifted up to the balcony to glance at Oscar. Did he sneak her in? Did he realize how dangerous that was? She was apparently his friend, but…did that give him the right to put everyone else at risk? Her brows furrowed. As long as the woman stayed far, far away Alinta wouldn’t make a scene, but if she ever got the chance she’d question Oscars judgement.

Alinta turned a trembling gaze back to Scar, violet eyes seeking and finding comfort in Scar. In his murmurs, and in his delicate touches. The way a hand would teasingly trace her jawline, the way he’d lean in closer - allowing her to breathe deep of lavender and linen and him. “Life…is full of complications…” Alinta whispered quietly, resting a head against his shoulder, letting him lead her. One hand on his chest, the other curled around him, clinging to him as though he’d slip through her fingers if she dared pull away. Fingers trawled though unruly black locks, snagging on tiny unseen knots. In a sense…Alinta was using him to calm herself down, and she felt a little guilty in doing so - but Scar didn’t seem to mind.

Another warning spoken through a husky chuckle and Alinta tilted her head up. Allowing her lips to press to the underside of his chin. Let herself be tested, let herself soak up everything the man had to offer. He led her, slowly, deliberately. Their dance became slower, and slower, till they had stopped moving entirely, quietly standing to the side. His arm around her waist, hers around his. The space between them nonexistent. 

He wasn’t lying, there was something terribly addictive about him. “You tell me to be careful.” A slide of her hand from his chest to join her other, fingers interlocking in his hair, forcing him to lean close, foreheads touching. “But I’m an obsessive person, Scar.” She’d not tell him that he was playing her just right. That perfect balance of dominance and playful banter that had her hooked. It didn’t matter…tonight was just one night. A night of dance and sweet whispers.

Tomorrow Alinta will return to her lonely existence…

Maybe, that’s why she was so insistent on pushing Scars buttons now. There were no consequences, and if this were the only time she’ see him she wanted his eyes entirely on her. She wanted every whisper, every smirk. The hovering touches, the heat of his body pressed against hers. She wanted all of it. Selfish, and cruel, but wasn’t that par for the course in this terrible digital world?

Her fingers tightened in his hair,a tilt of her head, a gentle smile. Genuine, thankful.

“Funny, I feel as though you are the one who has ensnared me.” A glance down at his hands as they moved tighter around her waist. “All wrapped up in your sinners web. Tell me, do you treat all saintesses this way? Lead them astray with a single bite of appled lips, letting them indulge in knowledge and sin?”

Closer now, her lips grazing his, only just, as Alinta closed her eyes and inhaled before pulling away. Allowing her space to clear an addled mind. “You know this is just one night…” Alinta whispered in a sort of melancholy tone. The woman didn’t want it to end here. But, if she were to see him again she’d not be so bold - so perhaps their fleeting meeting was a blessing. “So by all means, test me however you want, and draw that scar deep in my being to stake your claim.”

@Scar

[Scar 0]

Jack chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating softly against her as she leaned in, their foreheads pressed together, breath mingling between them. "An obsessive saintess," he murmured, amusement curling at the edges of his voice. "That might just be my favorite kind."

His fingers trailed up the curve of her spine, slow, deliberate, until his hand rested at the base of her neck. He tilted her chin just enough that their eyes met, violet and crimson locked together in the dim light. "But careful," he whispered, voice a velvet rasp. "When you say things like that.. it makes me forget this is just a dance."

Her question came softly, laced with challenge and curiosity, "Do you treat all saintesses this way?"

Scar placed his lips at the border of her eat, near enough so that each word sounded like a warm breath that lightly touched her skin. "No," he said, quiet and certain. "You're the only one I'd be this way with." A pause, long enough for his thumb to stroke the hollow just beneath her jaw, feeling the thrum of her pulse. "Others might play the part, but you.." he drew in a slow breath, "You make me forget it's a role at all."

His hand slid back down, finding her waist again, pulling her close until their chests met. The music around them swelled, a slow, pulsing rhythm that seemed to sync with the steady beat between them. "So if this is just one night," he he whispered, very close and his breath was coming out over her lips, "Then I intend to make sure you remember it. Every heartbeat. Every whisper. Ever scar."

At that moment, he refrained from kissing her, not yet. He was, however, holding the tension between them quite thickly without letting it go. His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth, then back again. "And if I'm to carve my name into you, Saintess.." his tone dipped lower, teasing but sincere, "Then you'll have to promise you'll do the same. Leave something for me to remember when the night ends."

Departing from her waist, Jack's hand took hold of hers and lifted it to his chest where the beating of his heart could be felt more strongly beneath the fabric. "Right here," he said softly, guiding his palm flat against him. "So even if this ends when the music stops, you'll know I meant every word."

He also added, quite quietly with a faint smile, "And I'd bet that you already knew it."

* * *

@Alinta