F01 - Blackbook, Grand Opening Pt. II

[Luke Pendragon 0]

Luke sipped and ate absent mindedly. He looked around wondering if he would actually dance. The idea wasn’t repulsive but there was only so much food that he could eat. Eventually one’s taste buds would get overwhelmed. He debated getting into a fight just to spice things up. He decided against it, ultimately, because he didn’t trust what his brain was telling him about his mental state. It would be a shame to survive all this time just to die from a stupid pvp bout. 

“Maybe I should just get going,” he sighed, looking at the exit. He realized there was only so much fun to be had on any given day. He stretched and then wandered around in a circle one last time to see if anyone was interested in chatting or something and if not he’d head on home. He was fooling himself to think that he could actually have fun in this imaginary world. 
 

[Oscar 0]

For all of his reckless abandon, Oscar was in reality risk-averse.

It just so happened that his recklessness was his weapon. The dangers of Aincrad could not harm you if they no longer drew breath. Monsters - in human form or a Cardinal construct - were as mortal as the rest of them. It was simply human nature to find the most efficient and the quickest means to continue putting one foot in front of the other. And if that was throwing himself headlong into danger, so be it. That had been his prime philosophy. A weapon like none other - that which set him above most. To the upper echelons amongst his peers.

How ironic, then, that his greatest weapon be turned against him.

There was so much about this woman that he did not know. So much that should have screamed alarm bells - those claxon dangertones - in his head. He was risk-averse. A unique skill of his to make it all look so easy, but that was just the Magician. Smoke and mirrors, cloak and dagger. A card trick upon which life balanced on a razor’s edge. If one merely peered behind the curtain, they would see the truth of it all. The meticulous routine. Information gathering. From Brokers, from his own Hounds. He never went into anything completely blind.

Curiosity had beckoned him into the trap like a Siren.

Intrigue had ensnared him like a spider’s web.

It was his own wild abandon that was his undoing. His recklessness and those soft sighs. Her silken skin and that infernal, enrapturing kiss.

He mirrored that passion. Absorbed it, reflected it. His reciprocation came in equal measure. A fervent, feverish kiss. His hands flashed to her waist, fingers coiling in her dress. He warred against restraint. The urge to rend and tear and devour sparked with those soft-spoken promises. That she wouldn’t shatter. That he wouldn’t leave her in the dark. The wild impulses of the Beast were strong indeed. 

But this wasn’t the occasion for that mask. Or any mask at all. He wore many. The Beast, the Magician, the silly man with the hot dog stand. Whimsy and ruin and mystery had become his sword and his shield. And it was deeply terrifying to find himself without those. Weapon dropped, shields down, armor discarded. How long had it been since he had just been? His mind screamed, pulsing like a raw nerve. It sought safety. The armor, the sword, the shield.

That was just human nature, after all. To seek that which you were accustomed to.

And he was certainly unaccustomed.

Desire, he knew. This? What was this? Why did he feel so drawn? How had she so expertly wound himself around her finger?

Was it the innocence?

Did he take pleasure in shattering it?

Why-

Oscar silenced his thoughts. Perhaps he should have listened, but he didn’t. He indulged. That was the entire point of the evening. To slake thirsts, to sate appetites. And he would do both. Fulfill his need for whatever this was. The morning would bring its own problems. He would find his own solutions, as he always did. For whatever he was, for whatever mask he wore or whatever persona he adopted, he would always be reckless.

So he would BE reckless.

Perspectives shifted. He no longer bore down upon him. Oscar allowed Winnie the rare view of looking down at him. Azure locks cascaded down like curtains of water, her body pressed against his. Hips joined, heat rose. His hands, once resting firmly at her hips, moved ever so slowly up her sides. Memorizing every inch by touch alone, taking her measure. Every sharp inhale, every sigh, every moan. He would burn her entire being into his mind. Every. Single. Spot.

His touch left echoes of wildfire. She sat astride, but he still had the reins. He would keep those. Hungry eyes peered up at her as his hands crossed over her chest. He would behave himself, for now. Avoid the obvious, take his time. They had all night. And much as he wanted to skip to the main course, one could not enjoy just that. Appetites needed to be whetted, flames needed to be stoked. 

And in his extensive experience, it was difficult to reduce someone to putty in his hands without first applying heat. Heat was something he had in great abundance.

“You won’t be able to put this back in the box,” Oscar warned. Like it mattered. “I’ve been known to be quite addicting. I intend to remain so.”

Ego bled into his words. One hand departed, fully removing his tie. The other moved around her throat. No pressure, only heat borne from his hands. His grip lingered before snapping suddenly to the back of her neck. He pulled her in sharply, lips colliding. It was not pure or affectionate or sweet. It was hot and hungry. Flames consuming. That bed became a pyre. Fire licking at their limbs. Burning. Searing. His tongue slipped past her teeth, coaxing hers into a frenzied duel. 

His grip shifted, from the nape of her neck to the back of her head. Fingers intertwined in her hair. He did not seek to cause pain, but neither would he allow her to retreat. 

Because it was just human nature. 

To find the most efficient and the quickest means to continue putting one foot in front of the other.

And if the destination was straight into the wildfire? So be it.

 

[Cascade 0]

~PH~

[Jevi 0]

Jevi returned to the table that Mari once sat at and leaned heavily against the table. Elbows pressed into the surface as she leaned her weight against the table, resting her chin in the heel of her hand. She's scan her surroundings with a slow, hooded gaze.. though it was hard to focus on any one person with everything going on. Not only that, but the room looked different than when she had first arrived.. with her impaired perception at least. 

Lights blended together and shone bright, forcing her sensitive eyes to turn away after looking for too long. The shapes of bystanders blurred and mirrored, creating a kaleidoscope of dancers that twirled about the dance floor with their partners. She attempted to blink away the drunkenness, but to no avail.

Maybe another drink was a bad idea. 

Golden eyes fell upon the couple she had found herself dancing with previously, their doubled images moving in and out of focus. She merely watched as the two shared a tender moment, a kiss with the same fiery motif they both coveted. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she would gently gnaw on the plump skin. A jealousy filled her, though not directed towards Mari or Lancaster. A longing for what the two shared, finding someone that she could share the worst and the best days with..

A finger tapped on the side of her jawline as thoughts of what she once shared with another filled her mind and an unconscious hand summoned her menu in front of her. She had just began typing out a message.. three simple words / I miss you /.. but before she even came close to sending it, she would dismiss the message with a gesture similar to that of crumpling up a piece of paper. She was lonely, but not enough to start messaging an ex. It was either that or... 

She looked at Mari again. At Lancaster. Could she... Would they..?

Her forehead hit the table. She was pathetic. 

Stepping to move away from the table, she would gesture towards Mari and Lancaster that she would be back. A simple 'one moment' with a raised index finger, and she was moving across the room to find bathrooms. 

Some cold water splashed on her face, that should snap her out of.. whatever this is. 

@Mari @Lancaster