Brigitte Clara Deleon: From a nearby
warehouse, you can head the steady thud of a loud jungle mix. Cars line the
lots, and those not in for the long haul are mingling outside to hear others
over the loud music. Inside it's dark and steamy, your typical rave. Strobe
lights abound, glowsticks are twirled, and you'd be far fetched to find more
than a handful of party goers that aren't x-ed out of their gord.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: In a crowd of bright
colors and eye catching blinking lights, Brigitte stands off in a corner by
herself. She's young and fair. Meek it seems. She's wearing a simple white
vintage sundress, with a long white cardigan overlay. She hugs an arm over her
chest and watches the crowd with a look of almost.. longing. An odd serenity.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: (
http://www.wodnyc.net/modules.php?name=coppermine&file=displayimage&meta=lastup&cat=0&pos=3
)
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: Cue one not
x-ed out party goer, in fact he does look a little 'out of touch' you could say
to the ravers besides him. Eyes still sharp, moving outside all of the masses
almost like a predator.
Standing about 5,11 and all punk. He has bleached platinum blonde spiky hair,
one pieced eyebrow, dog tags hanging around his neck and a black T-shirt covered
in safety pins. Dark ripped jeans lead down from that to tight army style boots,
all manner of heavy jewellery covers him, chains on wrists, a couple hanging
from his waist. He looks tough, and he knows it, all in his movements, and
though not a big man, he knows he can handle himself. Clean-shaven and very good
looking, people notice him when he is around like there is an electricity in the
air when he hits a room. There is danger in those brown eyes, a sense of
abandonment and fun. ((Fame 1)) http://www.wodnyc.net/modules.php?name=coppermine&file=displayimage&album=1&pos=59
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl hugs
her arms around her chest more tightly, keeping an eye on the odd man out. She
doesn't look alarmed at all. Merely interested.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He stops, eyes
going over the crowd, his brown eyes meet hers, her longing is sensed as
weakness, may as well have a look at that. One guy barges him and Bruce doesn't
move, one hand out pushing sending the man flying. He shakes his head "Just not
enough action."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl
watches the man sling the other away, lips curling at a shy smile to the floor.
She shakes a long blonde lock over her shoulder with an innocent bat of the
lashes.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He walks
straight over, subtle is obviously not in his bag of tricks, right through the
rave, slipping through party goers easily moving up towards Brigette.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She slowly turns her
bright green eyes back up to the man, blinking with an oblivious smile. The
thought that he might be coming with ill intent had obviously never crossed her
mind as she speaks in a tone barely audible over the loud music "Hi."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He smiles,
quite a nice smile all things considered, a bit rebellious in that way. "So why
you at a place like this?" Oh yeah, smooth all the way...honest.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny one
shoulder shrug, leaning back against the wall and looking out to the crowd.
Nonchelant and comfortable. "I.. like to watch. The people. The music isn't too
bad." The bored tone in her voice implies that she isn't too terribly enthused
about either.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He snorts
"Yeah you look fucking happy, but then again what is there to fucking watch,
been in this dive for 10 minutes now and am ready to box me ears out...so what
the fuck is there to watch." He looks where she was looking, innocent woman,
just watching, he has seen plays like this before.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She blinks at him
with a confused look. Almost hurt. She looks back down to the floor. "I.. I
don't know. I'm sorry." Her arms tighten around her chest, tugging the cardigan
closed.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He looks back,
was she a player or just that fucking innocent....a tough one, well if shit
breaks out he can wing it. "Am Spitfire!"
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She blinks up with
another confused look. "Umm.. okay. I'm.. V." She extends a tiny hand to the man
in a polite gesture.
Sasha: ((Open Scene?))
Brigitte Clara Deleon: (yes)
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He grabs
her hand in a strong grip giving it a firm shake "V you ssay, short....easy to
spell I like it." The punk grins a manic grin almost, feet rocking back and
forth.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: ((come join!
*s*))
Brigitte Clara Deleon: Her grip is loose and
she doesn't pull away until he does. Her eyes float over the man and his..
shiftiness "Are you alright?"
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He shakes his
head "Am in a club with a fuck load of ass bandits playing fucking 90's tunes
that are re-mixed with a different beat, who can be fucking happy with that."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She blinks back down
to the floor. "I'm.. sorry. I.." She looks back out to the crowd "If you hate it
so much.. then why are ~you~ here?"
Sasha: She slips into the rave, looking
around with a little grin on her face. She sips at a water bottle as she walks
away from the door, looking around, hips already starting to undulate to the
beat.
This is what youth looks like when it's been tossed into a blender and set to
"puree." Dressed in a red And black lace trim cami, a pair of blue jeans, and a
newish pair of shoes, the young woman looks very much like a child of the Modern
Age, worn down by life. She can't be much older then the mid-20's, and her black
hair, shoulder-length and straight, frames a youthful face that projects a
simultaneous world-weary cynicism and innocent flirtatiousness. Her make-up is
just a hint toward overdone, with a vague impression toward being fairy-like.
Her eyeliner is a bit heavy, circling blue eyes slightly hazed by whatever
designer drug she's taken, desperate to have a good time.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: "Oh, I try
these new things every once an a while, see whats going around, you don't sound
to happy about it as well, in fact your whole cry is all about see me, notice
me, an yet your in a lub an no fucker as yet save the other outrsider as, lesson
here....never come to a fucking rave."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: ((lub=club))
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl pulls
her hand slowly back from the punk, eyes still trailing over the man. "You're..
right.." She looks back down to the floor, shameful "I.. shouldn't be here." She
hugs her arms tightly around her chest and starts to slowly move around the
angry man.
Sasha:
d10: Per+Alert: 3,7,2,5,7,10,4,
Sasha:
d10: Specialty: 5,
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He nods like
there could be no doubt he was right. A raised eyebrow at the stympathy card,
some body get him a violin and he will play her a marching song, she does look
tasty however.
Sasha: She's been more observant in her
time...still, she notes a few faces around the warehouse. Particularly, her eyes
fall on Brigette and Bruce. She watches them for a moment, sipping at her water,
swaying to the music with a hint of provaction to her movement.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl wraps
around bruce and makes a careful pace for the door, cute youtful hips swaying
obliviously. She peeks over her shoulder to the punk with an innocent bat of the
lashes.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He watches
her. She could be a needy bitch, he can tell, so not his style but still pure
blood, or does he want a mixer because she hasn't taken shit...it's times like
this when you really have to ask yourself, innocence or vice.
Sasha: She glances to Brigette as the
woman walks generally her way, definitely sizing the girl up. She smirks a
little bit, brow raising, intrigued.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: In making her pace to
the door, she wraps past people with a practiced grace. She steps up to a random
female.. Sasha in fact.. and whispers in her ear. Randomly it seems. She tries
to make her tone loud enough to hear over the music.. But just by her.
Brigitte Clara Deleon -> Sasha: "Am I being
followed?" She doesn't sound nearly as worried as one might think. Just a simple
question.
Sasha: She leans in to listen, and then
whispers back, lips close to Brigette's ear. She looks up to Bruce briefly, then
back to the woman as she gives the low response.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He shakes his
head, another meat ticket just passed him by, he is really off his game
recently. He was sure she shouldn't have reacted like that. He looks down at
himself, he didn't really scream innocence, he shrugs, leaning back against the
wall, eyes leaving where Brigitte went, already moving on in his wanderings.
Sasha -> Brigitte Clara Deleon:
"No...bein' watched, though. The Billy Idol reject."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl blinks
back over her shoulder, letting her eyes lock on spitfire with a curious look.
Like she was.. expecting to be followed. She seems confused, but nods to Sasha's
comment.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He looks
over the dance floor, he is going to have to do this old school, look to see who
is wasted, go over be there friend helping, take them out back they wake up
thinking they were just wasted....now what flavour...eyes focus on the dance
floor, Brigitte looks forgotton by him.
Sasha: She grins a little, reaching out to
brush Brigette's arm as she leans in close to the girl's cheek once more,
whispering.
Sasha -> Brigitte Clara Deleon: "If you
want to be followed...gotta raise the stakes a little bit. Lots of hotness in
this place, you gotta stand out."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl blinks
back to Sasha with a shy smile, laughing softly at her words. She hugs her
cardigan a bit tighter with a tiny nod. "I'm fine. I don't mind."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: Lips purse as
he cheeks hollow slightly, he see's a likely one. He pushes off the back wall,
snorting a little he starts out on the dance floor for target A!
Sasha: She shrugs a little. "To each
their own." She grins a little...her hand pulls away from Brigette's arm,
running over her other bare arm lightly, shivering at the feeling. "Sasha."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl gives
a shy smile. May as well stick with the name of the evening. "V." She states
looking down the girl's form. She shamelessly reaches forward to feel along the
seam of sasha's shirt. "I love your shirt. It's cute."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He moves
pout into the masses, approching a young girl, but damn it, her friends have
already found the little lamb, he stands in the middle of the dance floor, head
bopping to the beat. Prodigy, not bad he thinks to himself as Action Radar comes
from the speakers.
Sasha: She grins, eyes half-lidding, and
nods, fingers moving away from her arm to pass over the stomach area of the cami.
"Thanks...I thought it was cute. V short for somethin'? Or the full name?"
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny
laugh, looking down to the floor with a slight blush to her cheeks "Just V. If
you like.. you can make something up.. We can say it stands for that. I won't
mind."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He feels that
music moving through him, feet tapping, what the hell, one dance, head thrown
back in wild abandon, he starts to move to the beat.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason:
d10: Dex & Perf: 9,5,2,9,6,4,
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He maybe punk,
he may not be dancing like the rest but there is something in his movements,
freedom not know by most, a passion there, slapping his head admist the pounding
of the beat, wild yet controlled movements head held high, eyes half close
grinning.
Sasha: "Naah, s'all right. V works. Gives
mystique." She winks a little. "Ain't seen you at the rave scene before...you
new to it?"
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She shakes her head
no and look out to the crowd. "I've been around. I guess." She gives a tiny
shrug, hugging her cardigen more tightly. She certainly ~seems~ out of place,
but doesn't look disturbed at all by it. "Do you come to raves often?"
Sasha: "For a little while." She nods, the
fingers still moving idly over her stomach in little circles. The other hand
comes up to brush her hair back from a sweat-slick forehead. "Couple months,
maybe three?"
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: His eyes
wander and wander over Brigitte and company falling to a girl near them, must be
only a slip of one as well, 18 if that. He grins, she smiles back. "'cuz it's a
sure-fire action-seeking radar baby" He says in tune and beat to the song.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: Her pretty green eyes
flitter down to sasha's hand encircling her stomach. Trailing it, with a tiny
nod to let her know she's listening.
Sasha: She raises a brow slightly, but
continues. Her hand doesn't stop at the sudden attention paid it...she seems to
be enjoying the feeling too much to stop. "But yeah, been comin' and enjoyin'
the scene. Plenty to enjoy in the scene...don't you think?"
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny nod,
looking back around to the crowd with an odd squint. "I like getting out. It's..
fun."
Sasha: "You okay?" She tilts her head a
little, regarding Brigette curiously.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He moves
towards Target B, people parting as he moves or getting shoved out of the way if
they don't have the sense to move. That grin the whole while, and though not bad
looking there was some kind of rebel appeal about him.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny
shrug, still looking away from sasha. "My girlfriend died this week. It makes me
sad. I told her I would take her to a rave.. but I never did." she hugs her arms
more tightly over her chest with a blank stare.
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He just walks
up to the girl grabbing her belt and oushing her back against the wall. Her eyes
widen at first, but then she blushes as Bruce leans in and licks all the way
from the base of her collarbone to her forehead.
Sasha: She winces very visibly, her good
mood vanishing. Lips purse, and she reaches out once more, to touch her
shoulder. "Shit...sorry 'bout that. I, um. Know the feeling."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl
gives another shy smile and averts her pretty eyes to the dingy warehouse floor.
She lays a hand on the one gracing her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "I.. doubt
it. But thanks."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He leans by
her ear, whisphering as sweet as offersin as he can, which apparently is enough
for her. She locks him with young eyes, looking a little lost, but unlike
Brigitte none of the social underplays, no eyelashes, no out of placeness in
this one.
Sasha: The skin-to-skin contact brings a
little intake of breath. "No, seriously...I do. My f..my boyfriend. He,
uh...last month."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She keeps a loose
grip on sasha's hand, blinking back up to the girl with an 'i'm sorry' gaze. "Aparently..
It's going around, then."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He kisses her
hard, pushing her back to the wall, she seem to not knows what to do for a
couple of seconds then leans into it with him. He had this one bagged.
Sasha: "Guess so." She nods, and gives a
little shrug, nodding in acceptance of the sympathy. "Sorry to hear."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: "Where
going...now." He puts his arm around her waist and grabs her ass half carrying
her to the exit with him, she giggles then screams palyfully asking to be put
down but only token gestures on her part.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives the hand
another weak squeeze and blinks back down to the floor "I.. should probably go.
I didn't mean to bother you. It's getting late.. and.. I need to find someplace
to stay for the night."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: He carries her
out to his van, opening the back door half chucking her in, she is still
grinning like mad, "Lets see what you have then baby!" stepping in after her,
the doors slowly close and he works for his blood like he has to some days.
Sasha: She starts to nod, moving away, and
then stops, her face flushing a little. "You got nowhere to go?"
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny shug,
still looking to the floor with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "I..
can find someplace."
Bruce 'Spitfire' Freemason: ((THanks for
scene *s*))
Brigitte Clara Deleon: ((*hugs*))
Sasha: Her lips press together, and she
sighs. Something vaguely resembles a remembered empathy for Brigette in her
eyes. "Look...if you want, I can set you up with a hotel...I mean, for a couple
nights, at least.
Sasha: ((Bye, Jud! *hugs*))
Brigitte Clara Deleon: The young girl
looks up to sasha with a suspiscious squint, then shakes her head "I'm.. fine.
You don't have to do that."
Sasha: She frowns, and shrugs. Should've
known...after all, would she have accepted, if not for the fact that it was him?
"Awright. Just offerin'. Sorry."
Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny nod
and makes a slow pace around sasha, toward the door. In passing she leans over
to brush her lips across the girl's cheek. "Thanks. It was nice meeting you.
Sasha." She hugs her arms tightly across her chest and gracefully worms her way
through the crowd, to the exit.
Brigitte Clara Deleon: (have to do that
sleep thing. *hugs* was fun.)
Sasha: ((*Hugs* Sleep well...thanks for
the scene))
Sasha: She watches Brigette leaves,
giving the girl a last look. She shakes her head...gotta learn on her own...and
looks back to the crowd, her hips starting to move and sway to the music once
again, that slight provocation returning.
Sasha: She gives it a few moments of that
motion, before she finally gives in. She slips tward the crowd, her motions
becoming more fervent, a touch more wanton, slipping onto the dance floor to
glide between two men, brushing each of them, either side of her body making
contact. It sends a shiver through her body, and she moves her way through the
crowd.
Obfuscated Gentleman: *He strides into the
Rave, a little nervous, thick hands smoothing over the red mesh shirt. He looks
staight out of a magazine, dark skin glinting under the lights, stylish
sunglasses set on his nose. he looks around the room, sliding between people on
the dane floor*
Sasha: It's a slow circle she makes
through the crowd, moving from warm body to another, staying close to the heat.
An occasional brush of skin here, a bump into someone there...her hairis slick
with perspiration, as she makes her way on through. Doing a round, almost,
gyrating to the primal beat as she does.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B):
d10: per alert: 6,5,4,7,10,
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *His head tilts
to the side, hands sliding over his chest as he makes his way through the crowd.
ravers were winding down, some coming off their highs and staggering for water,
or a dark corner for some illicite groping.. The tall man finds himself slid
into the middle of the dancefloor, a grin to Sasha as he dances nearby, moving
predatory and smoothly to the thumping beat*
Sasha:
d10: Per+Alert: 3,6,8,2,4,7,6,
Sasha: She glances in the tall black man's
direction, smirking a little bit. She looks him over just a little bit, doing a
little whirl on the floor, coming around to face him at the end. Her body never
stops moving, reacting in time to the pounding rhythm.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *a rumble in
his chest, eyes darkening deadly behind the glasses. he allows a thick hand to
slide over her shoulder, slick against the sweat of her skin. He looks doooown
to her. a sly smile as he regards the rave pixie*
Sasha: Her eyes move up, meeting his gaze
for just a moment, before she winks tantalizingly. A teasing little smirk on her
face, before she ducks out of his hand, sliding just a half step away, against
the body of a rave-boy. A brow raises to the ebony-skinned man.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *his smile
becomes devilish, as he slides behind a tipsy rave bunny and slides his hands
down her curves, moving to the heady throb of the music. the woman leans back,
hands sliding up his neck. But the Tall ebony man simply keeps smiling to Sasha,
shades reflecting her back*
Sasha: Oh, it's a game, is it. She narrows
her eyes, grinning, and presses herself back against the slim raver, hands
moving down her own neck, over the red-and-black cami, then down her sides as
she undulates. Eventually, her hands pass over her own hips, and behind to grasp
the more-then-happy to oblige boy, holding him by the hips against her.
Throughout, her eyes and attention remain on the tall man, rather then the
oblivious little boi behind.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *He tilts his
head. The Shades flash, and the raver he's dancing behind makes a rather
pleasant noise and makes to turn around, but is held by a pair of thick hands.,
he twirls her away from him suddenly towards another dancer, moving to twirl
sasha to him. She wanted chased, and here he was*
Sasha: She shoves the boi away, actually
knocking him stumbling back into someone else, and takes a couple steps forward,
pivoting as she does, so that by the time she's at her previously distant
partner, her back is to him, and she makes contact, full-body, leaning against
him and swaying.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *And the tall
man folds over her, gyrating to the music, hands kissing her curves and staying
teasingly just this side of indecent, he leans down to her neck and rumbles in a
deep boom, a sly smile as the boi gets back to his feet* Heartbreaker..
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B):
d10: cha expression: 8,5,8,2,3,5,7,8,
Sasha:
d10: WP (HA HA HA): 1,4,4,6,
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): (*laughs ass
off*.. the HA HA HA jinxed it)
Sasha: A shiver runs through her body at
the touch, moreso at the sound of that deep, silken voice. She smirks a little
bit, eyes half-lidded, and adds just a little pressure backwards. "Mmmm..." The
sound's as if she just tasted something divine. "I think he'll survive..."
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): where did
you learn such cruelty gorgeous? mmmmmmmm? *he croons near her ear, grin ever
present. His muscles coil like snakes in slow motion, shifting against her as he
dances slow and hypnotic, despite the primal thump of the music* You wouldn't be
so cruel to me.. would you? *he teases slyly, hands slipping over her stomach
and up the insides of her thighs before drifting back across her hips*
Sasha: A soft noise escapes her lips at
the tantalizing touches, her hands sliding upwards, over his hips and sides,
then her own before traveling up to move over her head and curl around his neck,
resting on the cords of muscles there. She matches him, move for move, body
following his as if they're one, his movements directing hers. "Oh, no,
baby....never to you." There's a bit of a chuckle at the end of that, maybe
enough to throw the slightest touch of doubt in her sincerity, if he would have
believed it otherwise.
Obfuscated Gentleman (A.S.B): *a rumbling
chuckle into her neck, he draws her to the door. 1st night back in the city. no
firey cat scratch leg binding destruction. he was feeling pretty good.. and
now.. take out. *
Sasha: She moves easily along with him, to
the door. Driven into sensory overload, and loving every moment of it...anything
to forget. She slips out with him, into the cool night air that brings a shiver
to shoulders and arms dressed only by sweat, and off into the night.
Ammon Black: alright. so to a hotel they stumble. likely in the bronx. tis a
looong cab ride, during which the hands of the handsome black man cup and stray.
Sasha: She's more then amenable to cupping and straying...her hands doing a fair
amont of wandering herself, a manic sort of amusement as she does so. She
follows him to the hotel, stumbling up the stairs and fairly pushing him through
the door. She moves in with him, kicking the door shut behind them.
Ammon Black: *its a low chuckle from the dark of the bedroom, his hand pressing
beside her shoulders as he leans across her to lock the door, heatless body
warming in proximity to her own drugged warmth. and then he's away into the
room, shine of his glasses from further in. another chuckle*
Sasha: She follows along...no need to bother with the lights, it's actually
probably better if she doesn't. Hands seek out his body in the darkness,
following the shine off the glasses. She's not so coy anymore...more aggressive
then anything. She moves straight to him, hand dipping low to cup his groin.
Ammon Black: *and suprise suprise.. the man isn't exactly standing at attention,
side effect of being dead, one supposes.the thought likely doesn't have too much
time to proccess however, his huge hands curling around her wrists and pressing
them to her sides as his chest vibrates with the deep boom of his voice* hmmmmm.
ssorry hotpants.. you have to ~work~ for that. mmm? *his head dips to brush
tepid kisses over her neck and shoulder*
Sasha: She sighs a little, that sort of semi-plaintive but esctatic sound that
promises hunger and need for him, but assures him she's enjoying. This one's
experienced, for sure. Her head tilts to the side...a shiver sliding down her
body, traveling throughout it. "You're cold..." She says with a chuckle,
squirming a little in his grip..
Ammon Black: mmmm*is his rumbled response, hard biting kisses starting at the
base of her neck as he moves with the certainty and skill of a man well versed
in sin. He begins towalk her backwards across the room, transferring her wrists
to one hand behind her, apparently control games were his flavor, other hands
scratchiing acrosss her breasts expertly*.. mmm. I never fuck strangers... *a
low chuckle* so whats your name.. mmmm?
Sasha: Her lips part, a little sound escaping from them...a whimpering sound,
indicating both desire and maybe a little fear. Whether it's because she knows
that's what he wants to hear or honest, hard to say. "S...Sasha," she breathes.
"You?"
Ammon Black: mm i said ~I~ don't fuck strangers Saasha.. *her name is crooned
out like a dirty word, huge man trusting his voice to work its magic as the back
of her knees hit the bed, and he twines a hand in her hair, tugging her head
back slightly.* You.. do. *two reflective circles stop the man from fading into
the darkness of the room entirely. that and the flash of white teeth as his
other hand releases her wrists and slides between her legs, cupping the warmth
there teasingly through her clothing* ... mmm. what do you do sasha?
Sasha: She moans a little bit, knees sliding apart to accomodate his hand...a
slight hiss, not unpleasant, as her head is yanked backward, exposing a slim
throat, a quickening pulse. "I...I'm an assistant for Alexia Rottersham. The,
ah...singer."
Ammon Black: hmmm *to a singer? good. far more useful than a vet in training.
.... clolthing is slowly peeled off her, tepid hands making short work of her
trappings as he proceeds to pinch and touch her with a detached sort of skill.
eyes predatory behind the glow of his shades* hmmm. you would like a drink.. no?
you are breathless..
Sasha: She reacts easily to his touch, skin hypersensitive...mews and moans
coming readily forth from her mouth, back arching into his hands, squirming
lightly against his restraint of her, perhaps just enough to impress that
reluctance, but certainly not enough to break free. "A...uh...yeah, a drink
would be nice..." She chuckles a little bit. Remarkable how easily she went from
aggressive to submissive...
Ammon Black: mmm*to the minibar, tiny bottle of vodka, he putters in the suite's
kitchenette area, fixing a setite cocktail, a healthy dollop of tainted blood
undercut with clamato and vodka*, his voice rumbling out through the suite as he
approaches* Drinks mmm. now i only owe you dinner to be a gentleman.. *he's
still fully dressed it would seem*
Sasha: She sits on the bed, leaning back as he makes the drink. When he
approaches, she chuckles a little, riseing up and reaching out to take the
glass. "Dinner, eh?"
Ammon Black: *a slow smile. brilliant in the dark, but he doesn't give up the
glass, sliding to sit on the bed, drawing her backwards into his lap. his hand
slides between her legs, teasing her as he finally presses the vodka to her
hand, rumbling with feigned urgency* drink quickly.
Sasha: She slides into his lap, pressing down lightly and sifting a couple times
to get comfortable...moves that are either designed or just coincidentially
those that would entice and teasing. A low, long breathy sound escapes as she's
teasing once more, and she raises the tainted glass to her lips, swallowing the
liquid down quickly.
Ammon Black: oh you're good.. *he chuckles as she squirms on his lap. no
reaction of course, but he appreciated the skill, her breasts crushed harshly in
his hand as he waits for her to be done the drink, other hand playing between
her thighs languidly.. he rumbles into the back of her neck* isn't it nice to
just give up control sasha.. mmm?
Sasha: She moans again, louder, though this time, it's honestly impossible to
tell whether it's due to the hand at her sex, the one at her breasts, or the
lineage of Set sliding down her throat. The glass is weakly moved toward the
nearest surface she can find, almost dropped there, as she nods a little.
"Yeah...control's good to have, but sometimes, letting go certainly has it's
advantages..." She leans in against him, fluidly, hips pressing instinctively
upward to his touch.
Ammon Black: *his cold hands work the woman expertly, mouth finding the back of
her neck as he coaxes her futher into a delirium, contrast of skill cold fingers
and hot living flesh just another sensation at his disposal, looking for that
chemical response he knows so well, he rumbles silkily into her ear* mm.. no
responsability.. just obey, and be rewarded.. * a pinch of the woman's clit to
reinforce his pont, his teeth scrape at the back of her neck*.. your'e mine..
mmm?
Sasha: "Ahhh...." Her body tenses, sinuous body arching toward him eyes
shutting. She whimpers a little, needy and pained and desirious all at once.
"Yeah," she moans. "I'm yours."
Ammon Black: remember that ..*its both a croon and a warning as the brush of
teeth on her neck becomes somewhat more real, simultaneous stabbing shooting
pain directly along her spine as the setite makes to take back what he'd given,
with a little extra for his trouble, hands and mouth matched points of pleasure*
Sasha: A real cry now, a hint of pain and then it's pure bliss, ecstacy rolling
through her body as, worked by him high and low, she writhes into a climax,
shudders making their way through her lithe, appealing frame, helpless against
him.
Ammon Black: *A low rumble of releif as he draws his fangs from her, licking the
blood from her neck hastily, sealing her soul inside. it hadn't come out this
time. thank set. cold hands move suddenly press her slender frame against him
and he lies back, still fully clothed. He lies back and waits, shades glinting
in the dark as he murmers to her as she comes down* good girl... shhh.. come
here.. mmm?
Sasha: She gives a little sigh, plaintive as he withdraws his teeth, and she
moves to press against him, hands trailing over his chest with a little "Mmmmm...."
sound. Her eyes half-lid, languidly laying there, waiting for his direction.
Ammon Black: Tommorrow evening. 12 o'clock.. mmm? *its not really a question,
his chest still covered in that mesh shirt, the man's not broken a sweat, still
tepid as he smoothes her skin, soliciting the trembling aftershocks he knows
well how to draw from an exhausted toy*
Sasha: "12 o' clock," she says with a nod, shivering with a moan at his expert
touch. "Here?"
Ammon Black: hmmm. i think not.. where do you live little one?
Sasha: "With...Lexi, at her apartment."
Ammon Black: I will meet your Lexi *he rumbles, rubbing the girl's back* but not
tommorrow. Tommorrow you arrive at the *he gives the name of a hotel in
Queens...he appears to be getting out of bed*
Sasha: She looks at him as she gets up, making a little whining sound, deep in
her throat. "We're done tonight...?" Clearly, she doesn't wish to be, almost but
not quite clinging to him, torn between his control and her wants.
Ammon Black: mmhmm.. *he chuckles, looking pleased. He moves to the door,
booming as he unlocks it* the room is paid for until tommorrow evening, make
good use of it... *a chuckle. ..a card is taken out of his pants pocket and set
on the desk beside the door. and then he slips out, leaving the girl to her own
devices*
Sasha: She looks after him, and gets up, moving to the door with shaky steps, a
little woozy from alcohol and some little net blood loss...her hand reaches out
to pick up the card.
Ammon Black: *It has a cell phone number. thats all. plain black on white*
Sasha: A sigh, and she moves to get dressed. Satisfied, but not...deeply in one
way, worked to near frenzy in another. She needs to get laid tonight. She takes
the room key and slips out, looking for a new target for the evening...someone
to fuck. There will be no simple sex, after that.