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 Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 5:17 am
 Kingdom and Title: Manhattan Psychiatric Center - CEO and owner
Location/Situation and Form: at Skin, with MishkaAll things truly wicked start from an innocence.
~Ernest HemingwaySokar's face was turne down at Mishka in his embrace. He wasn't so much looking at her as he was letting his mind wander in an almost-sleep. It was like a light doze on Sunday mornigns, in between sleep and wakefulness where dreams seemed real but one could guide them if need be. It was a testament to Mishka's abilities that she could lull the man so well to this state, and willingly. He only barely felt the touch of her petite hands on his chest, but was aware enough of her presence to simply bask in it like a cat does sun. It took him a few seconds to gather himself to respond, "Definitely less stressed, but I wouldn't protest more time with you Mishka."
He was about to suggest what they might do during this extra time, but stopped himself when her epression darkened and she sat up quickly. A question died in his throat as he spotted a hideous bruise maring her pale neck, and he sat up with a snarl that escaped from his subconscious--henceforth, the true lupine--mind. He placed a hand on her shoulder, not squeezing, merely holding her steady so he could look at her injury more closely. "Who... who did this?" His voice was low, barely audible, and rough as he restrained his anger as best he could. Having the mind of a man who had developed his body and musculature to the point where he was the only bully in any place he frequented, was what triggered such a furious response. Well, that and the fact that Mishka was his absolute favorite skin girl.
His predatory gaze turned from her neck to her face, as he made it obvious he would not accept any excuse or protestation by his angry expression. Sokar's soul might let her keep her secret, but Renfield's (who was in control at the moment) might even make his own bruises to get some answers. The two spirits were perturbed at this mistreatment of their 'property', so to speak, and equally hot tempers flashed in tandem at the enfuriating event that had occurred.
We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.
~Plutarch (46 AD - 120 AD)
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 2:50 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI might steal your clothes  xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand wear them if they fit meKingdom: Veritas/Lust Rank: Peasant Location: New York City, center of the universe, times are shitty... but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse...╔═════════════════════════════════════♛═════════════════════════════════════╗Tyler had been walking silently when suddenly a man grabbed him from behind causing him to yelp in surprise and only calm as it turned into some sort of awkward hurt about his shoulder. "What in the hell?" He spun to see an elder man staring at him, calling him Bruno and going on about things.
So he was mistaken for an old friend? Poor old man. He faked a smile and shrugged, "You know how women are, can't live with 'em can't let 'em share your pie. Give 'em an inch..." He winked at the man and looked about. He was only trying to amuse the poor soul.
"Now now, you old codger, you know damn right well it has been far more than a month since you last spoke to me! Okay, maybe it only has been a month, but it's felt like ages." He shook his head and smiled. "And you know how the family is, same old same old. Mother is mother and... well... Rufino is... Rufino" He shook his head, 'Kid needs to grow up."
It was then that a new face entered the scene. He was polite and seemed to be a little bit nutty, but Tyler smiled at him all the same. "We were actually just about to head to... Where were we going?" He turned his head to his new found friend, hoping the man was carrying some dough on him to pay for the meal.╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝☪ OOC ☪ Never made agreements, just like a gypsy And I won't back down because life's already bit me And I won't cry, because I'm too young to die if you're gonna quit me'Cause I'm a gypsy
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2011 11:13 pm
 ▶ ▷~Kingdom: Avarice~
▶ ▷~Title: Heiress of Avarice - Currently, a Mental Patient~
▶ ▷~Location: Manhattan Psychiatric Center ~ 
She mused silently, wondering what she’d done to the near vegetable-man to make him hate her so much. It never once occurred to her that it could have been anything but hate. Apparently she’d never had a boy push her in the mud in the first grade because he liked her—Or put gum in her hair. Nevertheless, she combed her actions since she’d arrived at this facility months and months ago… What had she done? She kept to herself, minded her own… Sometimes she stole the last cookie during snack time…But was he even aware enough to -want- the last cookie?
Was it all for the love of a chocolate chip cookie? Did he do it all for the damn cookie?
Well. He could take that cookie, and stick it up his—
Domini decided abruptly she would be much more careful next time, and take snack time in her own quarters to avoid any episodes.
Brushing off her hands as she drew herself to her feet, she nodded her head at Doctor Kreslin—Agreeing with him. She would indeed try to get rid of as much germs as possible… But it was difficult. She swore she could see them crawling in the corners of her eyes. Another smile came from the doctor…Different from the others. He apologized for not being able to allow her to go outside, and she shook her head softly. She hadn’t mentioned going outside to make him feel…Guilty? Bad?
She’d only mentioned it because she couldn’t help it. She loved the fresh air…The light, flowers… It was just things like insects, dirt, smog, and anything that might pollute the environment that drew her off the edge of her sanity. She couldn’t help the way her face fell, the way her eyes seemed to lose some of their shine at the regretful denial—But she didn’t blame Doctor Kreslin either.
Dominique was only too aware of her shortcomings.
“Maybe…One day, I could just…Stand at the door. And then maybe with the door cracked open another day. One step at a time… I could just take…One more step forward, everyday?”, she suggested faintly, unsure if it was something that was at all feasible. She bit her lip…Fearing that she made herself sound brainless for even suggesting it... A fool, for wanting it in the first place. Domini wasn’t always sure what would set her off, and what wouldn’t—Until it happened. And by the time it happened… It was usually too late. “Or…Or maybe we could play it safe and crack a window a teensy bit.”
“I could wear a mask.”
She fell silent as they walked to the office, her mindless chatter falling away as she wove around the occupants in the room, focusing deeply on not touching or bumping into any of them. She never noticed his paranoia, and chose the seat that was directly in the light. She drew her knee up as she sat in the chair—Resting her chin on it… Relaxing in the warmth. It comforted her, like nothing else did. Hugs, soft touches, a gentle caress—These thing all disgusted her. But sitting in the sun, playing a game she liked? That was good juju.
For a moment she could pretend she was sitting in a field with wind blowing softly… Really it was just the ceiling fan stirring her sleek ponytail…But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?
The doctor assured her that one day she could come and go as she pleased…See the sky, feel the breeze—And she smiled. Again… Pretty words…Freedom was a dream. It was a word to comfort her at night…
But she didn’t dare wish for it—Wishing only wounded the wisher.
“When I win.”. Dominique corrected the doctor, beaming at his playful correction of her own statement. The lovely little blond wasn’t at all exaggerating her skills. She’d never played formally or anything of the sort…But she could beat the orderlies in three moves, or less. She dropped it after that… Doctor Kreslin would see for himself, the force of chess nature he was up against. She was surprised after a point, that he’d even lasted as long as he had. “Well… You know where to find me if you want to play.”
Her lips quirked upward as she took his right hand rook.
“It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
She laughed softly when he swore not to cry, his eyes meeting her own. So gallant he was, wearing latex gloves for her benefit. He had no idea how much she appreciated it. Or perhaps he did…Either way, she was still grateful.
“Promesses Promesses ma douce chérie [Promises Promises my dear sweet] Monsieur Kreslin… I’ll keep the Kleenex close, just in case…Bonne chance [Good luck].”
Dominique never noticed the slip in languages and continued analyzing the chess board.... No where in her file would it state that she knew any language other than English. She’d taken Russian as an elective several years ago…She didn’t speak French, not at all.
___________________________________________________________
She watched the good doctor stress over his next move with a small smile, her delicate chin resting on her knee, expression wiped clean of anything. Domini didn’t mind that waiting in the middle of chess…There were only so many moves to be made at this point. The trick would be to see the right one. It was a sport of give and take…Sacrifice, for the greater good. So engrossed in the game, she visibly flinched when the knocks came to the door—Frightened.
Offended by the intrusion on her happy space, she curled into herself, her arms wrapping around her legs in the chair. She sought to become unnoticeable. At first she feared that it was orderlies coming to drag her away again, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as the air in the room shifted. Indeed an orderly entered, out of breath—panting hard enough that Dominiqe drew further back.
She didn’t want the lummox breathing on her.
Dominique watched and listened silently… A little curious about why big-and-dumb looked do distressed? The blond stayed in the room, watching the two exit… She just wasn’t sure if it was…Safe, outside of this room. Not with the way the orderly was acting. Still… Nothing interesting ever happened here. Peeling off her gloves like someone with medical training would—She tossed them in the trash. Sanitizing her hands, she got a new pair.
She likes these gloves, powder free.
Using her cloth covered elbow she opened the door and darted out, moving quickly after the orderly and Dr Kreslin. She shadowed them, never once touching anyone, or anything else—Except her feet to the floor.
Brilliant aquamarine eyes were filled with an almost kitten-like curiosity.
Had Static-Shock done them all a favor and choked to death on a spoon? Doubtful, but one could hope.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 1:23 am
Because beginnings are so slow, three hours must now go The former residents of Veritas' castle clung to their new lives, acting as it this was how they always lived. The Sinful and Virtuous Mafia have been set up, along with their members. The bar, the asylum, the casino, and the other individuals as well have been established. Time flew as the new routines took place. Three hours passed in the day. Three hours of this strange land, living strangers' lives as their own familiar lives.
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 12:28 pm
_________________________ Kingdom: Wrath
Rank: Prince Thinks that he's a woman trapped in a man's body
Location: Casino _________________________
She slowly descended the stairs that lead above the stage after making sure that there were no further problems with the speakers up top. Three hours had passed and she'd taken care of everything thoroughly. Well that had to do with the stage there was still the slot machine but that would take a total of twenty minutes tops and it could wait. Her chocolate hues flickered down to her watch for a moment halting her boot in mid air as she looked at the time. Yeah it had defiantly been three hours. "That's what I get for being a perfectionist." She muttered to herself as her feet touched the floor and she released the cool metal bars of the ladder.
Clapping her hands together she glanced around the back of the stage before hopping down from her perch and going out the back door. Her fingers silently hunted in her back pocket for her lighter while the other went into the other back pocket for her cigarettes. When each item was found she jostled the pack sending a single cig up from its case and placed it between her lips, lighting the end she slipped both items back into her pockets and plucked the cigarette from between her lips. Rustic hues sliding over it for a moment before placing it back between her lips and taking a long drawl of it.
The crisp, minty flavored smoke filled her lungs and ever muscle in her body relaxed as she leaned against the wall at the back of the casino. Just outside the back door. Sure smokes could kill her, but did she care. Not really. There were so many things in this world that could easily end you so why not have you guilty pleasures. Lucas Luca-licious tipped her head back and blew the smoke from her nose as she looked up at the sky that was sliced by the tall buildings. Broken up into puzzle size pieces. Even if New York was one of the few places he could go to get away from the criticizing eyes of home. It lacked in many things. For one a bright blue sky. The tall woman sighed as she lowered her gaze and took another long hit from the cigarette.
Her lashes came to rest on her cheeks as she plucked the smoke from her lips, holding it between to fingers as she flicked the end of it with her thumb and released a small sigh. It was one of the few moments where she was alone that she felt as if something was missing. Something she once had yet no longer did. A part of her. Usually she pushed it off as not fully being a woman. But deep inside, at the part where the soul of the young vibrant prince of wrath remained hidden. Thanks to the powerful spell, it was something more. It was Lucas, the real Lucas, that was longing for his sister. Mishka wanting to know if she was ok. Yet the other patron of this body saw it as her body's imperfections.
Her lashes rose and with a shake of her head her persona once again became dominant snuffing out any recognition toward the twin who longed for his other half. She took another long drag from her smoke and dropped it in a near by puddle before turning back around and heading back into the casino. The slot machines were next on her list. With the body of a man yet the confidence of a diva Lucas Luca-licious strode into the casino her feet promptly carrying her to the machines as she reached behind them and unfastened the plug before kneeling and reaching into her tool kit and finding a screw driver. Soon opening the side of the machine and diving into her work.
_________________________ Somtimes what you see....
....Is not always what you get _________________________ Ooc: ...
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2011 2:49 am
 Kingdom and Title:Veritas; head of staff (butler) --> Consigliere to the Sinful family
Location and Situation: Eating and chattingIn culture after culture, people believe that the soul lives on after death,
that rituals can change the physical world and divine the truth,
and that illness and misfortune are caused and alleviated by spirits, ghosts, saints ... and gods.
~Steven Pinker
Kirkis smiled at Tyler's responses, as they all fit well with mistaken his perception of him. "Codger? Ha! You always were a jokester!" The former butler, now a somewhat aged consigliere, turned to john as he approached them, and gave him a grin. "Buogiorno young sir, and welcome! I didn't realize the old neighborhood seemed in such bad repair, but I hope you will feel welcome with us." Again the mildly diseased mind of Kirkis' saw the newcomer as an Italian youth, with generally the same features, only wearing clothing from his own era of mid-life. "To answer both your questions, my friends, we are going to Tony's, only the best place to eat for a couple of guys like us!"
***time skip***
In the end, the three men did not arrive at Tony's (for not only was it in actuality from another side of town, but also had been closed for 20 years now). but they did stop at a more modern Italian restaraunt after a few blocks of walking. Kirkis made conversation with the other two, even though at times it was scattered, and he switched his perception of Bruno onto John instead of Tyler. by the time they arrived at the restaraunt and were seated, he came back to his older personality, thinking the two men were new acquaintances, and asking that they tell them about themselves.
As the two were quite hungry, Kirkis spoiled them to second helpings and extra desert as they asked, and they had what seemed good lunch of sorts. Of course, there was a point when he'd gotten up to go to the bathroom and got lost, having to be redirected to the table by one of his two new friends. He told them also about himself, though his stories had the habit of being a bit disjoined or based on tangents, with years mixing together. A story about his grandmother would somehow segue into a story about his grandchild's wedding, then into his first dog when he was a boy. There were even a few sentences about working as a blacksmith's apprecetince, which sounded as if they were from his youth in Italy, but were in truth memories from Kirkis Bloodfire's mind, when he was in Avarice for a year or two. Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living.
~Arthur C. Clarke[Art is once more by Maniac. Click on image for larger pic. Please do not copy; I commissioned artist for this art.]
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2011 4:23 pm
Ɉϕɧɳ Ӎiҫɧɑϵɭ Gɍϵϵɳϵ Kingdom: Fortitude Um, with the artists I guess? Rank: Prince Ex-Asylum Patient! Location: Somewhere in New York City…With Tyler and Kirkis, This has been fun! White walls surround us
As we sleep among the dead (()) John continued to smile, but he did raise a slight eyebrow at the way the older gentlemen(Kirkis) addressed him. He wasn’t familiar with the Italian language. Thus, the artist could only assume that it was some type of greeting. Thus, John nodded at the older gentlemen(Kirkis). “Oh it isn’t that bad. Just a few touch ups here and there is all it needs.” Admittedly, the artist knew it probably would need more than that. But, the older gentlemen(Kirkis) didn’t seem to be right in the head. However, it wasn’t the same type of craziness that John had been exposed to for who knows how long. This seemed to be a case of someone whose memories were all jumbled up. That for some reason, the older gentlemen(Kirkis) could not see the world the way he and the other male(Tyler) could. Instead, the older gentlemen(Kirkis) saw everything through the lens of the past. A past John could only assume did not exist any longer. Poor soul…I hope someday he will be able to regain the ability to tell the difference between past and present…However, John realized that he hadn’t said anything. Thus, it caused his cheeks to fire up slightly and his silver blues to look downward in embarrassment. “I am sure I would feel quite welcome in your two’s presence.”
Then, after the artist made sure not to ignore the older gentlemen’s(Kirkis’s) greeting, the other male(Tyler) started to tell John they were going somewhere. But, in the middle of his sentence, it seemed the other male(Tyler) realized that even he didn’t know the answer. A small bell like chuckle left his lips as a small grin formed on his face. “It seems you are just as out of the loop as I am, no?” The grin slowly faded into a polite smile as the older gentlemen(Kirkis) answered both of their questions at once. John did not recognize the name of the restaurant. Then again, the artist tended to be a bit stingy with his money. At least, when it came to whether or not he should buy something expensive or something cheap. It was strange considering he was from a rich family. But, strangely, John felt the need to save his money. He felt the need only to give it out when others seemed to need it the most. Admittedly, the artist would not know this need to be generous was an influence of the angelic soul inside his own. A prince whose golden heart would not allow suffering to go on in front of him. Thus, the idea of a free meal caused the corners of mouth to form into a grin once more. “That sounds like a lovely idea!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They had walked for a few blocks after they departed from the alleyway. After a while, John wasn’t sure they were ever going to reach Tony’s! After all, John had no idea it was on the other side of town, let alone that it had been closed for over twenty years now. Thus, the artist could only assume it had to be somewhere around here! Luckily, they had decided to go into another Italian restaurant. John did not pay attention to the name. But, by the looks of the place, it appeared to be one of those modern Italian restaurants. While the artist had no real preference, John couldn’t help but think this restaurant didn’t have the air he thought Italian restaurants were post to have. However, the artist made no comment about it as they waited to be sited. While they waited though, the older gentlemen(Kirkis) started up a conversation with the two. The conversation became a bit awkward when the older gentlemen(Kirkis) started referring to him as Bruno instead of the other male(Tyler). But, like the perfect little actor he had grown to be, he was able to go along with it.
Once they were seated though, the older gentlemen(Kirkis) now seemed to perceive both him and the other male(Tyler) as new acquaintances, and asked them about themselves. John didn’t tell a lot about himself. He told the two his first name, as well as the fact he was an inspiring artist who was a bit down on his luck. Also, the artist mentioned how he wanted to travel the world and learn about new cultures. John even spoke a little Danish as proof of his knowledge, not realizing he had never learned the language. That the language he spoke happened to be similar to the one his other self spoke before he went mute. Thus, it was subtle evidence that even John was having slip ups of his own. But, John would not realize this as he still wouldn’t come to terms with the fact he actually saw himself with wings on his back. However, John did not linger on his strange hallucination or his strange dream for long. He was in the presence of company. Company that John was finding himself enjoying quite a lot. It reminded him of the days before his forced stay in the asylum, and that perked up his spirits even more.
It helped that the food was quite delicious! It was so delicious in fact that John found himself wanting more! While the artist felt guilty for making Kirkis have to pay for his and Tyler’s big appetites, he was grateful for his kindness. Out of politeness, John even made sure to throw a thank you at him as he dug into some chicken alfredo. However, he did stop eating temporarily when he noticed Kirkis seemed a bit lost. He almost chuckled at that as he got up and helped the poor man back to their table. After that happened, Kirkis went on to tell them about his own life. The artist couldn’t help but find himself fascinated by the older man’s recounting of his past. Even though his stories tended to be disjointed or based on random tangents, John listened attentively as he kept on eating his chicken alfredo. The most interesting part to him was the few sentences about Kirkis working as a blacksmith apprentice. He could only assume that had been something from his time in Italy. Nether the less, once Kirkis seemed done with his little stories, the artist couldn’t help but grin.
“I admit. You sound like you have lived a much more interesting life than I have.” It was true that living as the adopted son of a rich family wasn’t really all that fun. It was more boring and frustrating if he had to be honest with himself. All those parties, all those lessons over manners, all those silly things that made no sense to the artist had been his life for many years. Then again, maybe that was why John didn’t want to take over the family business. He didn’t want to be stuck in a world that obsessed over appearance and money. The artist wanted to be in a world full of variety and excitement. Admittedly, John had no idea this dream was one he shared with his princely counterpart. “I wish I could say I was a blacksmith apprentice, or that I’ve lived in another country. But unfortunately, I cannot.” His lips formed into a brief frown before taking a drink of his water. “What I can say though, is that I’ve enjoyed your two’s company. I hope we are able to do this again sometime.” While it sounded like John was saying parting words, it was more a statement of fact. He would love to be able to eat with these two gentlemen again. As long as I don’t get put back into that asylum again…Silver blues dimmed slightly as he took a bit of his chicken alfredo, never wanting to go back to that place again.
“But anyway, now is not the time to think of parting. Now is the time to think about other things…” The artist tapped his chin as he tried to come up with something to talk about. “Oh! Do you two have a favorite painter? Mine would have to be Monet or Van Gogh. I just can’t seem to decide between the two. ” John could feel someone staring at him from behind, but he showed no reaction to it. His hair was hidden beneath the beanie once more, but he did allow himself to keep the sunglasses off. After all, that would look much weirder to be wearing them indoors than not. But, the artist couldn’t change the rest of his attire. Thus, he had to deal with the stares people gave him as he waited for the two males answer to his question. We can chase the dark together
As the sky returns to grey
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Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2011 10:50 am
“You'll call the others here if you're not more prudent with your antics.” He barked, his tone crisp as an autumn morning's air. “Depositing the guests that have been thrust into my care into whereever you put them is sure to make more than a few of them angry.”
“Angry with you Veriti. Always, the blame falls upon you.” The voice answered back smugly, the smile in the inflections enough that it was nearly tangible... He could even see it as an evanescent image sailing through his conscience. Veritas hated her being right.
“As soon as I find my damned cane...” The irritable man muttered, more to himself than to her. Though, she'd hear... she could hear everything that happened in the halls. Age had taken its toll on his joints... and while he could expend the magic he had to float through the air, Veritas preferred his walking stick... which had gone missing just before Minerva had been released. Someone must have taken it as a joke, because he played so many cruel ones upon them.
There was a minute note of concern laced in the witch's next words, just oddly confused. “You've never made a habit of losing something.” She said innocently. For just a moment, she'd sounded as she had when they'd both been young so many eons ago. Quickly, Minerva scanned the castle, probing for that of the God's crutch, and found herself a bit perturbed with its location.
Some sort of demon had escaped her placement spell, and had the thing in his hand. “That's Veriti's” She snarled, snatching the elongated stick from his hand. “It's wrong to steal from a God.” With a flash, the true form of the demon lay on the floor, what was known as Xard had been left for someone to clean up for when Minerva finally released everyone of her spells.
Which, in truth wouldn't be any time soon.
The stolen cane fell with a loud clack against the desk... the witch never once showing her visage to Veritas. “Now that you have your cane back...” She giggled shrilly. ”What was it you were going to do?”
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2011 8:15 am
• Ӎ ɐ э ʆ ɸ ȵ ɐ • ʗ э ɾ ΐ ϛ э • Ѧ ϛ ȶ ɐ ʆ ʆ ɸ - ζ ɐ ȵ ϛ ΐ ȵ ɠ • Ｔｈｅ ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ, ｈａｉｌｉｎｇ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅｏ ｋｉｎｇｄｍ ｏｆ Ｐａｔｉｅｎｃｅ
Full time Klepto Casino Hostess
Location: Casino.
Currently Wearing: The dress in the picture.  After a small chat with Gregor, Maelona had gone back to work for the next three hours, seating those who came to dine, bringing drinks to those who came to gamble away their small fortunes. A lot of the people in the casino were just your average Joe, most of which after their night of extensive gambling wouldn’t be able to pay this month’s rent on time. Those were the people Maelona avoided for the most part when working the room. After all she didn’t have much use for cheap jewelry from Wal-Mart. It was always a head ache to sell for a decent amount.
No, It was pointless to go after the eggs when you could get the whole golden goose, and with so many other people filling the casino floor, why would she waste her time? She always avoided those who had a tendency to buddy up to the boss. That was just too risky, and regardless of how much she could make off of her own addiction, she couldn’t afford to lose the job. The easy prey were the drunk tourist, and those who only came in once or twice a month. And now, Maelona had her eyes set on a young man in a Louis Vuitton suit, wearing what looked to be a rather expensive watch with diamonds on it.
Mae could already see a set up for the poor drunk fellow, she didn’t really need the watch, no. She had already pocketed the contents of a man’s wallet, an old snobby woman’s diamond tennis bracelet, and a man’s wedding ring that had been carelessly placed on the bar top as he flirted with her. She frowned slightly as the man stood, escaping to the bathroom. With a disapproving look, Mae decided to just take her break instead.
Maelona scanned the room, checking to make sure that they would be fine without her on the floor. Satisfied with the check, she found Kori and asked the blond if she would watch the dining room so Mae could go on break. The blond grudgingly obliged.
Mae made it to the employee lounge and found her locker so she could unload the loot from her bra before hoisting herself onto the counter. She kicked off her hels as she swung her legs back and forth. For some reason her feet were already sore, but then again what was she to expect when breaking in a new pair of shoes at work? She couldn’t help but watch the door, wondering idly if the boss would be angry with her for taking a break.
""
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2011 12:55 pm
 
~Kingdom: Hubris~
~Title: Heir Brothel Owner~
~Location: Skin - Floor, room, then floor again. ~
Trey’s eyes swept across the floor as he observed silently, a drink in hand. Aside from the bad news that had been delivered to him earlier, he was pretty pleased with business; his little workers were doing an excellent job of luring their prey, so he couldn’t complain much. He wouldn’t remain on the floor forever, but he always thought it a good idea to keep an eye on the floor in case something went awry. Certain customers had a knack for causing trouble – even if it never ended well for them.
Setting his glass down, he heard an all too familiar voice as he turned to spot his big client of the day - and oh how he enjoyed the man’s presence (along with the wads of cash he usually carried when he visited the brothel). ”Evening,” he nodded as he glanced between Vincent and his favored Skin girl. He couldn’t help but smirk as the man began to list off what needed to be cleaned, drawing a small chuckle from the owner. ”Well, I’ll have someone sanitize it right away. Fair to say you’ve enjoyed your visit,” his grin never disappeared as he looked Naedira’s way, taking note of the faint hue of pink that graced her features. ”But then again Nae never fails to please,” he smiled, taking the stack of bills from Vincent. ”You already know the drill from previous experience, and you’ve never damaged the ‘goods’ so I have no problem with you taking her,” he nodded, looking down at the money briefly before pocketing it.
He wasn’t expecting much more from the man, so he was fairly surprised when he pulled out another wad of cash. Slowly, he followed his gaze towards Corrine before looking back at the man; at least it was clear to see that the man had good taste in women. ”Of course, enjoy your night Mr. Wolfram,” he nodded, watching as Naedira moved across the floor to fetch the other Skin girl. ”Show him a good time ladies,” his lips curled up at the edges, waiting on their departure before he could go to his room to calculate the day’s earnings thus far.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~SKIP~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trey had given the order to have Nae’s room cleaned up before he headed back to his own room. There, he began to make cuts for his employees, separating their earnings into sealed envelopes to distribute them later on. The cash that he hadn’t received yet would go through the same process, but at the end of the night. Once he was done, he stashed the remaining funds into a secured safe before placing the envelopes into a separate bag. With the bag stuffed in his jacket pocket, he returned to the floor, moving throughout the rooms to pay each employee (those who weren't busy at least). Those who were absent would get paid later – in person.
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Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 2:22 pm
Kingdom: Lust
Rank: Former Heiress Police officer/Widow
Location: At home and then to the bar to drown my woes. `•.¸¸.••❦❦❦•• .¸¸.•´
Micah's hand rested on the frame of a photo, a photo of happier times of when she was still herself. Not this shell she had become. A slow sigh slipped her lips as she ran slender fingers over his face, wishing in that moment that she could just touch him just one more time. Thick lashes fell to rest upon cheeks as she set their wedding photo down on the nightstand. Tears slid past her close lids to move down invisible paths down her cheeks. Her hands rose whipping away the silver tears as she opened her eyes. "I miss you." She whispered casting her silver pools toward the heavens. Speaking to her husband who had been murdered, murdered by a man who worked at a local club. A man she was determined to have thrown into his personal cell so that he could rot and other un-nameable things (she hoped).
And the silver haired girl would not bat an eye lash or shed a single tear for him. No she would finally move forward from her anger, the anger that had been clawing at her once gentle heart. The anger that mutated it, turning it black with malice. He will pay for what he has done. She thought as she looked away from her ceiling and pushed off of her bed. She was determined to make it happen but first she needed to get a bath and peal out of these cloths that she'd been wearing for days.
She moved into the bathroom and gave a long sideways glance at her. God she looked like hell. Her hair a tangled mess of silver, oily from the days of neglect. Dark circles lingered round her eyes a combination of her not bothering to remove her make up and lack of sleep. Mascara streaked down her fiar skin, showing the trails of her tears. Her clothing was a dingy pair of sweats and one of Demetri's shirts, a shirt that no longer smelled of him but rather of her and her.. rather unpleasant odor. She grimaced and turned away from the mirror no longer able to stand her own reflection. Quickly she pealed out of her clothing and tossed it blindly toward the hamper before looking to the bath tub, her hands on her hips as another memory slid to the front of her mind. She halted it's movements and pushed it back, placing it under lock and key.
Micah bent over the tub and turned on the hot water....
With in thirty minutes she was ready to leave, clad in snug jeans that were tucked into a pair of black velvet boots that climbed to the mid of her calf with a heel that was merely three inches. Giving the woman some added height. Her torso was covered with a thin blue tang top and a denim jacket. Her hair was hanging loosely around her face in a mess of curls that she had scrunched into place. Her eyes and lips painted, lashes curled and concealer to hid the dark bags that rested beneath silver pools. It was the first time in a few weeks that she had actually dressed in something other than one of Dimetri shirts and old sweats.
Even then she was tempted to remove her own cloths and slip back into the comfort of something of her husband's cloths. She shivered as silver pools found the cloths that hung to the left of their closet. She should take them down and put them away--but she didn't have the heart to. The slender female closed her eyes and forced her head away, hanging it in her despair. Her mother had suggested she move and come back home for awhile, till she was able to get back to normal. But with out him it was just impossible to be normal. With a heavy sigh she opened her eyes and moved to the bedroom door. Her feet carrying her out of her apartment and down to her car.
----Time Skip---
She wasn't sure how long she drove around town before she finally found her way to the bar. But as she pulled in and parked her car her pools looked around, searching for his car. But could not find it. Her brows furrowed as she bit the inside of her cheek. Odd. She thought as she reached up, turned the key and killed the engine. It died with a small sputter, something that she would likely need to fix but it could wait. Micah opened the car door and slid free of the leather seat. With in a few minutes she was inside the club. Her pools flicking around, again searching. Maybe she had missed his car in the parking lot but as it was she still was unable to find him.
The fair haired woman sat at the back of the club. Her cell vibrating in her pocket. With a huff she shifted enough to slip her hand into her pocket. Retrieving her cell, and with a flick of her wrist she opened it and pressed it to her ear. The music of the club making it nearly impossible to hear. Micah pressed a finger to her ear as she squinted, focusing on the voice that spoke into her ear. "Micah you alright?" Her mother asked. "And where are you, I can barely hear you over that music." She cast her eyes to the heavens.
"That's because I wasn't talking ma." She retorted. She swore the woman was loosing her mind..
"Oh..." The older woman released a nervous chuckle. "Sorry. Are you out? I mean if you are good. I was just checking on you."
"Ya I'm out down at the bar." Silence greeted her on the other end, she strained to hear the quick intake of breath.
"Micah this isn't healthy for you...worrying about this." Her mother informed. Causing the widow to roll her eyes. Of course her mother thought she was drinking and yes that was one thing she did intend to do while here but yeash. Way to accuse.
"Eh.. I have to go." She said and clicked the phone shut. Her lashes falling to rest on her cheeks as she leaned back against her chair. Her hand clutching her phone to her chest. She didn't need to hear from her mother what she should and shouldn't do. If only her mother knew. Knew of her real plan. Her plan to finally put the murderous b*****d in jail where he belonged. She could already feel the anger swelling once again. Feel it boiling, rushing threw her entire being as her hand curled tightly around her phone. The urge to throw it coming to the front of her mind. If she wasn't a cop--she would kill Nikolai.
The idea appealing more and more to her. Tempting her to forget the oath she'd taken as a cop, to forget about morals and do to him what he'd done to his brother, her husband. To watch the light leave his eyes and his chest still. Like he had done with Dimetri.
`•.¸¸.••❦❦❦•• .¸¸.•´
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2011 2:15 pm
❦ Kingdom : Wrath ❦ Rank : Youngest Princess Whore ❦ Location : Skin Brothel with Sokar ❦
She mental cursed her actions. Knowing he may have not noticed had she remained still--calm and content. Yet she hadn’t. Damn it. She thought as her lashes pressed tightly together hearing his snarl. The warmth of his firm hand pressed to her shoulder. She wasn’t ready. She needed more time to tell him. For telling him about the marks that marred her throat would lead to her pregnancy--his child. A topic she was not to keen on discussing at the moment. “It’s nothing Sokar. Please don’t worry about it.” Her lips curved into a slow sensual smile. “After all I’m not threw with you.” And before he could protest she took hold of his lips kissing him deeply. Her mouth hungrily moving against his own as her hand slipped down his frame.
---Time Skip---
Mishka’s body still trembled as she laid on her stomach. Her body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Panting as she looked over her shoulder at the male who had just once again taken her to new heights. “I don’t think I could ever tire of you Sokar.” She murmured. Her mind no longer clouded with thoughts of her child, Trey’s demands. It was merely numbed by the intense pleasure that coursed through her entire body. Her pale jewels watched the male for a long moment her hand rising to lightly rub her throat as she cringed from the slight pain that emanated from the spot. Reality finally finding a way to settle back in, fighting its way threw the fog. She bit her lower lip and turned her face away from him.
So he could not see the pain that was etched into her features. “Sokar…” She began trying to find a way for her tongue to move. To say that single word that she had had such difficulty telling Trey. Only this time it was not for fear of loosing her job. But fear that he too would be disgusted with her and tell her to abort the pregnancy. The petite woman’s lashes fluttered as she tried to hold by the tears. Yet they were persistent and one slid down her cheek. Mishka pushed up and knelt on her bed, her head bowed.
A thick mess of chestnut curls veiling her face. Her hand rose, sweeping back the silky locks as she found her client’s face. “I’m pregnant.” Her cords strangling her melody with a small sob, her lips twisted in a pathetic frown. Her seas of blues shimmering with her fear. “With your child.” She whispered, unable to make her melody stronger. This wasn’t normal for her. Mishka never cried and handled things head on. Her emotional state was in a tizzy, her hormones out of wake because of the pregnancy. Her hand went to her stomach. She remained silent, minus the small sobs that echoed from her lips as she waited for him to say something. Anything. She just prayed he handled it better…than Trey had.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 5:47 am
Kingdom: Patience ...American? Status: Heir Prostitute Location: Limo Doing: Stop! Shower time.
xxxI'm blessed yet damned Dante seemed happy to let Eoghan borrow some clothes. True, he was never stingy with his stuff – the guy loved to shop, and had a veritable mountain of clothes, in almost every style. True, Eoghan was much shorter and slimmer than the man, but they could always find something.
“In that case, I’m using your shower too.” Eoghan smiled. Dante always had the best shower systems, and his hot water never ran out.
They exited the car together, the driver leaving almost as soon as they were out of the car. Well, he was certainly eager to have the day off. Eoghan vaguely wondered if he was looking forward to spending the night with someone special.
"Fish and chips... sound nice... but where could we find that...?" Eoghan trailed Dante up to the door, relishing the feeling of the sunlight in this part of town. He could hear some little kids playing somewhere nearby, a dog barking playfully at their antics. Dante kept talking. “There's pop-eyes or whatever, but that isn't what you're looking for... we could hop on a quick flight to England, if you want. Other than that, do you know any place?" The door unlocked, Dante strode into the house confidently, but Eoghan couldn’t help but notice the way he carefully scanned the area for anything out of place. Wire taps, concealed bombs... the life of a Mafioso was dangerous.
Why would Eoghan want to buy into that sort of crime, despite the easy life? He was doing enough crime just by working for Skin as it was. No need to be on the police radar just because he had a close relationship with Dante.
Eoghan sighed. The man’s offer was going to plague him all night, he just knew it. That, and the strange hallucination/memories he had just been having.
But this house sure was amazing. It was so modern, but so homey all at the same time. He could really... imagine living here. Despite everything.
“England?” Eoghan scoffed, following Dane up the stairs to his room. “Seriously? This is New York! Just walk down by the bay! There are so many places to go that you can’t turn a corner without bumping into something that sells the stuff!” The real problem was finding places that sold the good stuff.
Dante had already started stripping down; the jacket and the shirt were already on the floor before Eoghan could reach the bathroom. The guy hated suits, what was there to say? But he really did have a hot body. If Eoghan wasn’t straight...
"Watcha want to wear?" Dante asked Eoghan as he made his way into the bathroom. Eoghan started to strip down as well, starting the shower while he did so to give the water time to warm up.
“You’re the gay boy, you pick something!” Eoghan teased, speaking loudly to be heard over the sounds of the shower. “But seriously; something that’s not plaid.” The innocent farm-boy was starting to get on his nerves.
The shower felt amazing on Eoghan’s skin, and so he just stood for a moment, letting the hot water run over his head and face before he started to scrub. He was done quickly – a lifetime of cheap motels and run-down homes with little hot water had taught him to shower quickly but thoroughly.
In a couple of minutes he was out. He dried himself off, wrapped a towel around his waist and went out to meet Dante.
~*~
Three hours later found himself in a black tank top with jeans, somewhere by the bay.
“You know, I think we should have gone to England after all.” They had come across several places for fish ‘n chips, but nowhere that they would dare to step into.
“I give up. Where to now?”
Eoghan shook his head. This felt all wrong; this city, these clothes, even the name Eoghan. Why did he hate his name all of a sudden? There was a strange feeling of weight attached to the name, as if it carried the responsibility of a nation.
Patience.
But most of all, there was the return of his old desire to steal. Every woman with a handbag was a target, every rich man flashing his cash a pigeon. What was happening? He hadn’t had a relapse in so long.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'm all of nothing {{Oval Orange Cats: }}
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2011 10:57 pm
↞ Liam Balin↠
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀  Hospital, Soldato.
His fingertips slid across the smooth surface of the marble counter, eyes draw shut as he tried to remember how it was supposed to feel, if the cold stone felt right beneath his touch. Everything after a treatment felt wrong – chalky surfaces made him sick, something grainy against his tongue did much the same thing.. Smooth textures felt like they were barely there...
They said it was normal... But after six months, Liam Balin couldn't say that the sensation ever could be classified as something so mundane. Rather, the whole ordeal, when he wasn't in pain or too tired to even sit up, marveled him. At least, when he wasn't afraid; no, terrified that he might lose his first battle against himself – cancer had riddled his body, transformed it into something he barely knew.
His face was gaunt, cheeks hollowed out, tired circles about his eyes, and the muscle tone he'd been so apt at keeping up on had disappeared to reveal the bonier parts of him, like the disease was eating him from the inside out. Liam sighed, bracing himself for the onslaught of fatigue when he stood, knowing that vertigo and nausea would soon follow. Grimacing, he took a slow, careful step forward, though his hand clenched at the counter for support – he couldn't trust himself on treatment days to not fall.
Liam reached into his pocket for his phone – Fandral's number on speed dial. One thing was for sure, he'd not make it out of the hospital without some sort of aid... and while his boss may not carry out the help himself... he could arrange for someone else to come cart Liam back to the safehouse, where he could rest... and hope to the Gods that the treatment was one of the last.
It pained him to ask for help... His pride stung as the phone began to ring, beckoning the other to answer. Once, he'd been the best at his job.. now, he could hardly stand without swaying.
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Too many lost.
Links in a chain passed down through the years,
But ending here, if we just face the pain and the fear...
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2011 11:18 am
|316|
Location - Sleight of Fortune, Time for a little break.
Rank - Blackjack Dealer
Business had went on as usual with more than his fair share of faithful customars had gotten to his faithful to share a somewhat friendly game. Mostly anyway as some didn't take losing to gracefully. The Mafia had showed up on schedule however Richard didn't come into any contact with them. Even the excessive gambler that was with them managed to stay away from the tables. As time dragged on Richard took a look at the clock and was a little surprised to see that three hours had already dragged on. After the current hand he had dealt he waved over a free dealer and had him take over for him while he went to get a break. Stretching as he moved and rubbing his neck which felt a little stiff he headed straight for the employee lounge to get a little rest before heading back out. Entering the room his eyes didn't fall on the woman inside the lounge immediately.
Taking off his jacket and hanging it up in his locker for the time being that was around the time Richard noticed Maelona. "Well if it isn't Mae Mae. How is the job treating you? Need a break from all the flirting?" The last question was said with amusement to show he didn't expect her to answer. Pouring himself some water Richard stood near Maelona with his arm resting on the counter. Peering at the woman as he waited for an answer He turned around and leaned against the counter while he faced the other way. Taking a drink Richard looked up at the clock again. "How long do you have before you need to get back out there?" A sideways glance to the woman followed his question as he waited for the answer. Curious where Altonair was and if the mafia had left yet. Honestly he hadn't had much time to check while working.
OutOfChocolate: This post sucks but honestly I don't know what else to post u.u
Now that the world isn't ending.
It's love that I'm sending to you.
It isn't the love of a hero.
And that's why I fear it won't do.
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