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

[Raidou 1]

The man in his grasp was having a rough go against the paralyze coursing through his system, and the fact the knife had yet to be removed left it to continuously apply. One of those small factors that most hadn't considered, if a weapon is left unoccupied and imbedded in a person, that it would easily keep inflicting its dose of venom add Infinium until removed. Paralyze was the worst culprit, given losing the lack of movement made it nearly impossible to self mend. The nomad held him high with his right hand, pressed into the bathroom tile as he'd calmly steal sips of his own liquor. A mumbling staggered against numb lips as the pleading for life would start to begin, allowing the dribble to continue before he'd restate his inquiry. Raidou had no interest in killing him yet. After all, dead men tell no tales and the information was far more valuable then another name against countless on the wall. 

The bathroom door cracks open bringing the wanderers senses to take notice, his beating dummy moving to silence as well. What follows is a woman in tan skin, driven to seek out the porcelain sink still clung to the wall. Over the top of multiple left over weapon fragments and destroyed flooring. She doesn't even notice when water starts to flow off the side of the sink and stream down to the floor, given the front right corner of the hanging fixture was snapped off compromising the basin leading to the drain. The nerves fall away the moment Raidou takes notice of that green cursor, and the fact that she didn't seem to even see what was going on just to her right. Instead taking time to splash water on her face, a little flush and flustered. Perhaps the lavish spread and depths of sin had mixed poorly in her stomach and her drive to the water had been out of desperation to settle such a feeling. Yet her posture spoke to a trouble less physical, in the way her gaze locked to herself in the cracked mirror.

Raidou had two choices, and didn't have long to decide on one. The one that is made is quite readily taken, as the languished sack of man is slid along the wall and helped into one of the stalls. A firm press of that knife into the orange players stomach just that much further as he's placed upon a white glass throne, tucked away and stuck stupid until this line of questioning could be performed at leisure without prying eyes or ears. The latch is slid shut with the turn of the knife from the floor, allowing it to seem occupied for as long as it would need to be. The player had been stored away in the foulest smelling safety deposit box that would allude to no questions. To the fixture on her right, he'd look at himself in the mirror after setting his cup on its rim. "Long night?" A simple turn of phrase, spoken about as deep as if a discussion regarding the weather.

WC: 517

@Jevi

[Lancaster 1]

The blazing level of lust paired nicely with the heat on a stroke of his rough calloused hands across that soft skin. "Is a fine question mi fiamma. You are still the apple of my eye." Murmured into her ear as he'd squeeze gently on her love handle and her hand in his left. The music shifted again and the pair really seemed to be diving deep into one another, the thick taste of alcohol and the wafts of her scent seemed to drive him wild. So much so that he looked for exposed skin to take a bite on, a little dose of pain mixed with pleasure. Just enough to leave an impression and clip away at the heels of what would likely come later. "Our passion is beyond our flesh and bones, most cannot take such la fiamma." He milled the metaphor with his own flame melding with hers across the palms of their hands. 

It wasn't but a wayward glance that catches a stray look and gesture from @Jevi. One of removal and an urge to get away. Even she had fallen away as Vincent had gotten lost in the deep blue of Amari's eyes. "It seems our friend is having some liquor trouble." He warned in a small note, whipping Mari out with one hand before dragging her back in against his chest. "Must not have our tolerance, which poses a question." He'd press his lips deep into hers, lapping up everything he could with a tempting passionate wrapping of tongues. Even going as far to bite her lip on the way out, he'd swoon with that cocky smile. "Do we keep an eye on her? Might need someone to hold her hair back, il compagna. But if you wish to be selfish, I will oblige happily. I am feeling selfish." 

@Mari