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 Posted: Sat Mar 17, 2012 4:05 pm
  owner of moribund'swalker and ears of knockturn alley'the spider'   Sweeping winds opened the door as embodied by the hand of the thin man. His cloak and hair ripping at the seems of Chord's reality even before he entered; he was a reflection to her. A drop falling its a still pool and instead of causing waves, the water it kissed vanished and alone lay the drop. Strong, solemn and vibrating with an oncoming force. Knowledge and deals of the God of Bargains spoke through the half-lidded coals of the man's eyes and Chord ripped at her lower lip with her fingers. Cutting ribbons and letting them jump into those howling gallows like snakes in grass; everything shivered. "The HellHound's enemy, his greed!" she whispered into her cutting fingers of rotting bone. The drink she had begun preparing for the female customer laying abndonded by Chord's attention and focus. Half mixed and the cocktail of liquids seeping and bleeding into one another as she gnawned at her nerves and minimal sanity. A final break sharply captured by her cracked teeth before she told her demons one more thing, "The Hunting Falcon." Twists ripping at her parched lips as a crazed smile painted itself over her pale features for just the length of a heartbeat before she dropped everything. Her eyes and her slowly arching back relaxed hands returned to the work of the drink, and ever her blood seeming to clot at the light shining. Every supernatural shadow left her as soon as the whites of the man's eyes were visible and his thoughts just as much so. Finishing the drink, she casually handed it to the woman with no gesture towards her, not even a glance. All attention on the man; his words and his expectations. "I plan nothing," she whispered perhaps too quietly for him to hear as nails gripped the edge of the table, "I reflect what you have already decided in your commanded flight. I neither clip nor let your wings grow. I am just their shadow on the ground."
Each syllable echoed in her skull and his as her tone and clarity heightened just slightly as each word and message passed the barrier of her rancid teeth. Louder and louder until their hit like steel spheres into his mounts of coal and ash.
The man worked with the HellHound and were commanded by the sway of wheat; the element of the Snake. Chord felt her yellowed bones aching with the relieve and eagerness of having treasures finally shine in her eyes rather than her mind. The Snake was bending every stock and the crazed woman had been so patiently waiting for the sight.
"Right away, love." She said suddenly, tone unnaturally casual and expected; nothing of the insanity or the escaping flames of Hell. Refreshing expectation in that empty pool with the single drop. She turned on her heel and instantly began preparing the meal alongside the desired drink. Back turned, revealing the thin bones pressing hardly against her stretched skin just above the fraying strings of her tightened corset.  
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Posted: Sun Mar 18, 2012 8:27 pm
   LOCATION: Moribund's MOOD: Entertained OBJECTIVE: Treasure huntingHunter smirked to himself at the woman's all-too-quiet words, nodding slowly as if he believed her. The note had said that the spider could lead him down the road less traveled. Was she not the spider—perfect in light of all her hidden wickedness?
One thick, shaggy eyebrow raised higher than the other as she continued to speak, her words accelerating as they left her dry, mangled lips. After appraising her for a moment, his eyes dropped to his lap, a childish pout replacing his grin as he mumbled, "I'm not a bloody bird..." Hunter loathed riddles. Ever since he had returned to the wizarding world, it was as if this new trend had taken hold of nearly every one he had come into contact with, some making him think, others just annoying him. It wasn't that he couldn't understand them, just that, being a straight forward person, he was used to simply saying what was on his mind without mixing his thoughts into a maze of veiled meanings. But worst of all, his father used to talk that way...
Sitting up straighter, his mood suddenly just as light as it had been when he had first entered, he watched as the pale lady begin to cook his dinner, eyeing her speculatively as she worked. "Ya know, love...if I'm not mistaken, some species of birds feed exclusively on spiders, he told her with an amused tone, keeping his eyes on her back and pressing his lips into a strict line in attempt to suppress his laughter. The more he looked at her, the more he enjoyed her presence. It wasn't a romantic thing, more of a strong feeling of respect for the dark-haired mystery.
His eyes flashed to his left, his body language relaxing a bit as he took in the other customer—another woman. This one appeared to be much more harmless—maybe not innocent—but far less poisonous than the spider who crept behind the counter. When he confirmed that she wasn't looking, he permitted a more conspicuous glance her way, turning his whole head as he ran a hand through the roots of his thin hair. Perfect timing, he thought, smiling when their eyes met, intentionally blushing and dropping his eyes in false embarrassment at getting caught. So used to the presence of muggle women, he didn't even think to ask himself if his casual charm had any effect on the magical.
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Mar 29, 2012 4:23 pm
Well she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Because that’s just ridiculously odd.
Well she sure is gonna get it
Here’s the setting, fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes  Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet Sliding chilled near frost bitten fingers around the lukewarm glass of wine, fresh in age and sweet in diction, it set forth to the churning fire that bubbled down her throat and flooded her heart. The thick contents in her glass shook rippling with the might of magic that whispered ancient secrets in her ear. She was water, cool, and calm, and she was fire, bright, and burning. Her touch was of ice, and her heart beat with lava, a molten decaying sense of apprehension became doused under the touch of her wine. And eyes as bright and blue as crystallized life blinked, absorbing information like water in a desert, a lily in the sand.
Crystal gems trained upon the caged beast of skin and bone, matted riddles wove knots in her hair as she spoke brusquely to the newest patron of the bar. She had long since decided that she would not be the one to turn to stare, but she would listen, and wait, and know.
But even with that in mind, her eyes still turned, lips pursing together as a static shock penetrated past barriers and her eyes met his, and then instantly, they both struck a smile…
’But don’t forget why you’re here,’ she mentally chastised, a lingering stare of wonder in just those few seconds before she tore her gaze away and cursed. Did she have to turn and look at him? He reminded her so much of a man she cared to never meet again, but if this man was anything like the last, then he would be able to lead her to the top too.
”For your troubles,” Maybel’s voice rasped, slowly silkening into honey as she tossed a few silver sickles and a single gold galleon upon the wooden countertop. ”Oh—the fish and chips, and Ogden’s too.” She gestured with a nod towards the man several seats away, taking his bill upon herself without ever offering a fighting chance.
Well she didn’t choose this role,
But she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry, give me a break,
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet ╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════════════════════════╗ Location: Moribunds with Lady Chord, Hunter Desires: Possibilities Troubles: Anxiety ╚════════════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2012 9:04 am
LOCATION: Moribund's MOOD: Hopeful OBJECTIVE: To deviateEven as he forced his eyes away from the woman, that mysterious tickle he missed so much ran feverishly down his spine, and images of dark, flowing, silk-like curls seemed to obscure his view. Hunter knew distractions were unhealthy. Perhaps that was why he liked them so much.
A thin, defined hand reached up and cupped the back of his neck, and a light sigh whispered from his lips before they settled crookedly into an amused smirk. Abruptly, both of his rough hands gripped the edge of the bar, and his dark, molten eyes threatened to melt the tabletop as he deliberated for a moment about whether or not he should allow himself to give in to the new desire that was scratching at his insides, demanding his attention and attempting to coerce him into giving it that foremost position on the front line.
What the hell. I'm already straying from my duties anyway. Remy never mentioned lunch... He decided, swiveling slowly in his seat to face the woman. ...or dinner. She was standing up now, and the full force of her beauty sent a temporary shock through Hunter's nervous system, freezing every muscle in his body for one unregistered second.
She's leaving. He realized urgently, suddenly chastising himself for debating over the obvious for so long. Before he could gather his senses, his glance followed the coins she had tossed onto the bar, and one of his thick, scruffy eyebrows pulled up in curiosity. You bought a drink, not a horse... His thoughts became humorous, and then became still as the glass silence shattered to pieces.
Her words: like silvery windchimes tapping gently against one another, each one with its own defined note, all of them flowing together enigmatically like a sweet, yet complex melody practiced for months. They raised goosebumps on the back of his forearms, and a brilliant white incisor bit down sharply against his full bottom lip.
It took him a long, never-ending moment to grasp that she had just paid for meal, but when he did, he was suddenly glad for the excuse. "Whoa there, where do you think you're going?" His deep voice melted into its own rhythmic meter, each word diluted with sarcasm. "You didn't think I was gonna let you leave without you offering me a chance to pay you back, did you?" Lusty and lithe, he was on his feet now, the distance that had separated them nearly non-existence compared to what it had been less than five seconds ago. His eyes were a subtle concoction of curiosity and humor as they locked with hers, and one of his sturdy palms slid impatiently along the length of the countertop, mismatched with his casual facade. "No," he answered his own question with the onset of a heart-shattering smile, "I don't think you did."
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Apr 05, 2012 7:27 pm
Well she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Because that’s just ridiculously odd.
Well she sure is gonna get it
Here’s the setting, fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes  Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet Maybelline rose with purpose veiled by a delicate red robe draping across her shoulders and spilling to the floor where it would drag a scarce inch or so behind her. Pale, porcelain complexion carved with the elegance of high cheek bones and pointed features had pivoted around to face the man that had so enraptured her attention, pinning him down with her brilliant eyes of blues and greens and flecks of yellow and grey. She blinked, pursed lips suddenly drawing into a bold and brash smile, that Gryffindor flame of challenge sparking to life. ”Oh,” she mused, a playful strike to her voice as it began to set into its soft soprano set. ”Got me all figured out, do you?”
A grin had spread across red smeared lips as a slender hand rose to glide through her hair, teasing her curls out of habit. She, was a petite little thing, small enough to toss around with ease, and easily engulfed by two hands around such a thin waist, and, such a short stature. A finger pressed against pursed lips, as her eyes had narrowed suddenly and a profound attentiveness spiraled within her. A cascading waterfall of memories swept behind the glossy veil in her clouded eyes, still sparkling with a spectral of wondrous hues. She shook her head and her lips grew tight as she bolted forward, severing whatever distance he had possibly left in between them. ”You.” She said suddenly, a ripple of blues and greens twinkling with a searing red. ”I remember you.”
And she did. Her early years in Gryffindor were—well—less than memorable, enduring the torment of the older students… and the Slytherins. Her glasses, matted curly hair and paper pale yet blotchy yellow skin had her targeted one too many times—but she wasn’t that girl anymore, Beehive Johnson. ”You,” Maybelline began with a growing roar, and a will to claw and bite and ravage all in one. ”Were a twit, do you know that.
“You’re the reason why people used to call me Beehive Johnson.” She reiterated, immediately sensing his sudden loss of word and depth of confusion trickling down. But not a lick of animosity reflected in her words, in fact, there was a humorous smile plastered on her lips.
"Small world," she reflected, noting that he had graduated in her second year-- or was it third? She had thrown her past behind her, willingly, to start new. But she had to admit..
He did seem all grown up since the last time she saw him.
Well she didn’t choose this role,
But she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry, give me a break,
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet ╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════════════════════════╗ Location: Moribunds with Lady Chord, Hunter Desires: Possibilities Troubles: Past ╚════════════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝
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Posted: Sun Apr 08, 2012 2:36 pm
owner of moribund'swalker and ears of knockturn alley'the spider'Fire kissed her preparing food, grease and spices popping and frying like panicking fish themselves as the slab of watery meat cook into a delectable death. Butter cried in its decent and peeled, washed and sliced shells of the yellow vegetable stiffened into thin fingers of food. Plate presented and caged eyes seemingly watching to process on her stove, the cutting knife in her hand, each of the customers and especially the glances of the two at her bar. Teeth biting into the inside of her corpse lips to suppress to smirk of creeping drive form showing on her features. Nowhere but in her shadow-lit eyes.
The words wormed their way like maggots into the meat of her ears and she listened with a strange intent - more of a curiosity towards the reconstruction of accents than meanings of the language spoken. But both heard regardless by the insane woman. Each comment and remark that held so much more to be seen by the oblivious speakers that she tasted blood soon enough as her hungry teeth bit further with restraint. Quickly enough, with her multi-focused vision noting the completion of the man's ordered meal, she began setting it only a cleaned plate and placing the needed decorations and utensils. A sudden motion playing in the corner of bolted eyes as Chord reached for the tap of the requested beverage. The female customer's shoulder tensed first, and before the physical reality of the action played out, Chord could already see it on the screen of her lids as she blinked. As soon as the extremely generous payment and tip touched the wood of the bar, they were swiped away with lightening reflex. The thin woman's grasping of the money with such speed, it almost seemed to have disappeared rather than be taken by her snake fingers. "Generous patronage, Miss. Not to be forgotten."
Words lifting like focused smoke and her heel spinning on an axis so balanced, the same speedy motion had her facing the bar once more. Plate in hand and tankard in the other, she placed them before the thin man, hidden vision scanning with detail each section of him and his many layers. Tucking a fork and a knife from a hoop around her waist, she placed them before him as well. Turning then, and stepping from behind the bar, she positioned herself just behind him and produced a napkin in her hand. Lacing it across his throat and tucking it into his shirt front, whispering with a lace of laughter, "Make no mess of this, here." And with just as much animal and supernatural-like dexterity, she was behind the counter once more. Focus completely off anyone or anything besides the glass that again found itself in her hand - a new one. All other parts of reality lost as iron-hot concentration was set on cleaning the glass with the rag once more. The tavern's air shifting.
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Posted: Tue Apr 10, 2012 10:27 pm
LOCATION: Moribund's MOOD: Surprised, yet amused OBJECTIVE: Convince an old "friend"Hunter's eyes of iron—not beaten nor battered like the rest of his body, but sturdy, vivid, and unrelenting to the years of abuse to which they had eventually learned not to cringe away from like a mistreated dog—widened, and held their stance as they were so accustomed to doing in those moments of surprise that had become so rare.
Completely unaware of the napkin he now wore down the front of his white dress shirt, along with the plate of smoldering hot food and large tankard of alcohol that sat on the bar awaiting his attention, Hunter's unwavering confidence faltered for a fraction of a second as his memory darted back to his years at Hogwarts, his jaw dropping just a centimeter as he realized the role the woman had played in his past before pulling his lips back up into that flawless smile."Guess I'm not the only who's changed, eh?" The thin, yet remarkably well-structured man winked one of his eyes before letting both of them run down the short length of the woman's finely-crafted, robed body without caring to hide his appreciation for what he saw.
After a long-lasting moment of marvel, Hunter straightened his posture into a more gentlemanly stance. "Perhaps good reason for a fresh start," he suggested, holding out a defined and muscular hand—the least he could offer in place of an apology for all the abuse he had inflicted upon the poor girl. "Hunter. Hunter Garren. And you must be..?" The corners of the man's full, baby-soft lips curled into a humorous and extremely amused grin as he awaited the name that would encompass his future dreams in nights to come.
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2012 4:21 pm
Well she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Because that’s just ridiculously odd.
Well she sure is gonna get it
Here’s the setting, fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet Maybelline spiraled into the cosmic of darkness encumbered shamelessly upon iron wrought eyes of molten shadows flickering against the flames. Pursed lips battled relentlessly against herself, that, pride of passion snaking in her heart that thirsted for a danger she had yet to taste since her days fresh at Hogwarts. But his was of a different kind, one whose dangers outweighed any greatness that could be found, and yet it was only all the more enticing. And, a sudden flashing mischievous glint caught her crystalline eyes. ”I will forever always be the woman that you so deeply wished you had never crossed.” Tongue lashed forth with such strict vehemence, but the twinkling dance in her smiling eyes told of a humor in her heart, one that was meant to entice more so than evade.
”Maybelline Johnson,” she introduced herself on a whim, even after she had established that she, in fact, would not engage in this cat and mouse game. However, she could not have helped but to notice that odd sense in which the barkeep had approached, and so silently tended to the man, she might not have even been there at all. A curious brow was raised, struck forth as she eyed the curious napkin folded neatly within the folds of his dress shirt. Nonetheless, her hand appeared forth from behind the thin veiled curtain of scarlet robes she dawned, but, gripped loosely within her short, stubby fingers resided a thirteen inch wand of ash in the midst of a coy swish.
”Tarantallegra,” Maybelline mused with a devious smile, swishing her wand to and fro in the command that Hunter must follow her. Though weak and ordinary the spell, she was sure she had caught him entirely by surprise—and that alone was satisfactory enough.
Well she didn’t choose this role,
But she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry, give me a break,
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet ╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════════════════════════╗ Location: Moribunds with Lady Chord, Hunter Desires: Possibilities Troubles: Past ╚════════════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Apr 18, 2012 5:53 pm
LOCATION: Moribund's MOOD: Surprised, curious, and more than willing OBJECTIVE: Balance work with play"Maybelline," he repeated in a whisper, letting the vowels lick against his tongue like wildfire. He could see, somewhere deep beneath the woman's charade, that she was housing some of the same desires as he was. Before he could voice that observation, however, he was dancing.
Smooth and skilled, the heels of his shoes took turn with the balls of his feet as they tapped artfully against the stone floor. When he realized that his new lady friend had cast a spell on him, he had thought it was merely for entertainment, but something in her smile told him that her intent had nothing to do with the uncontrollable dancing of his legs.
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Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 2:33 pm
Well she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Because that’s just ridiculously odd.
Well she sure is gonna get it
Here’s the setting, fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet Maybelline smiled, slow and wide, cat eyes narrowing in on him with a head held high, a simple stance which bled superiority in pools around her scarlet robes. A twinkle burning bright shone in her eyes, and despite how demure the smile, how innocent the charm, there would always be the sick gratification swelling inside that for once—for once, she truly had the upper hand.
Caged under claws like feathers in her fangs, she twirled her wrist with delicate poise and charm, that high ranking smile on high cheek bones an ever smearing thought of what she could have done, but did not. The thin line that divided herself, between him; between the heart of the lion and the snake.
The fluidity of her motions froze in mid-air, and the charm slashed with a simple, guilty wave. Besides, what fun could be had from a bird that won’t fly?
”The next words out of your mouth better not be utter rubbage, Garren.” Maybelline state with arrogant purpose. ”I’m not like those other women, I’ll obliviate your arse and turn you into my housekeeper if I really wanted too.”
And to think, Maybelline resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the thought raced across her mind, she’s usually so charming too.
Well she didn’t choose this role,
But she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry, give me a break,
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet ╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════════════════════════╗ Location: Moribunds with Lady Chord, Hunter Desires: Possibilities Troubles: Past ╚════════════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon May 14, 2012 8:17 pm
LOCATION: Moribund's MOOD: Excited OBJECTIVE: Hook, line, and sinkherHunter enjoyed how little the woman seemed to linger on how much control she already had over him--even without the advantage of magic. She didn't need it, and she appeared to know that. He was the mere snake that hung limp in the lion's mouth; the lion that killed for satisfaction--for entertainment rather than hunger, rather than for the taste of the prey that now poisoned her lips.
A knowing grin touched the man's own mouth in amusement at Maybelline's words. In one fluid, sweeping motion, Hunter knelt to one knee, completely uncaring of his freshly-ironed slacks that now sat on the dusty, grease-ridden floor. His expression was more genuine now, a careful, but pleasant smile as he held out his hand for hers, and--carefully locking his eyes in hers, he kept their gaze intact as he lowered his full, scarred lips to her her warm, delicate skin."If you really wanted to, all you'd have to do is ask," he whispered in his silky lilt, ignoring the goosebumps that raised on his arms in response to the grudging truth in his precious words. Something about this woman gave her a tight grasp around his free will, and at the moment, her clutches felt stronger than any he had ever felt. If there was one thing Hunter was good at, it was keeping himself in check, but he sure as hell wasn't doing so now.
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Posted: Mon May 21, 2012 8:18 pm
Well she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention
Because that’s just ridiculously odd.
Well she sure is gonna get it
Here’s the setting, fashion magazines line the walls now
The walls line the bullet holes Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet Maybelline felt the coy flicker within the steely gaze across from her, and again, as it shrouded to doubts before remarking its territory behind a moonlit smile that danced across dashing features, not that she noticed, mind you. She was far too curious, and far too bold, to ever be so cut off by a curt short word of notion and gentlemanly stance. Would if she could spit on every notion, but by then, what would be left to aid her with her theats?
”Garren,” she growled, low in her throat with warning. A sudden crystalline fire spiked with animosity at the gesture, she, immediately taken up arms and held her guard. What did he want? And why? She had never known the man to like a dame more than his own c**k, so why should she folly her own mission for the likes of him?
She didn’t even like him anyway. Or so she snapped at herself.
”Get up, you look pathetic.” Maybelline cursed herself under her breath, why was she even still here? She had deadlines to meet, and important officials to stalk. She had a life now, one that hadn’t involved the humiliating status that Hogwarts had once held. She had become every bit the lion she was now, and she supposed, she had him to thank for it in some twisted way. ”Walk with me.” She gestured with a sharp jerk of the head towards the door, more of a command than a request—but that could never be helped. If there was one thing she had learned over her years, it was that men liked to play the hero in shining armor…
Whereas she preferred to hide in the darkness and then lash out with a poisonous dagger when no one was watching and loot the bloody mummer of all of his knightly armor…
In the end, it became quite difficult to ever acquaint herself with a man her own age—or a man at all.
Well she didn’t choose this role,
But she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry, give me a break,
But they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet ╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════════════════════════╗ Location: Moribunds with Hunter Desires: Possibilities Troubles: Past ╚════════════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun May 27, 2012 9:40 am
Fury, and haste, and betrayal, and deceit, every emotion outpoured by the illustrious professor of cursebreaking had been absorbed by the dutiful owl who clasped the letter within its talons--this owl had a disdain for strings, and tied notes. It roared through the winds, screeched through the clouds and tumbled, barreling down to the earth as it soared into the narrow threshold granted to owls and ravens and pigeons alone. It never ceased in flight, never paused to rest. The wings swept powerfully, up and down, commanding a moments pause as it dropped the letter within Meryll Mopsus' hands and then kicked up speed before tumbling through the open window again. Scroll of Parchment
You should have warned me, Crow. Not sent me into the mouth of the lion. You knew.
The Medicine Man
Where is he.
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Posted: Mon Jun 04, 2012 7:46 pm
LOCATION: Leaving Moribund's MOOD: Opportunistic OBJECTIVE: Mission one, then twoAlthough he had managed to suppress his laughter at Maybelline's embarrassment, even as it rose inside of him and attempted to boil over, Hunter could not, however, succeed in keeping his signature smirk from crossing paths with his scarred lips.
Slowly pulling himself into a standing position and slipping both hands into the pockets of his slacks, he wondered how she was taking in his behavior, or if she were really even taking it in at all.
Part of Hunter felt as if he owed this woman something, because of all the years of torment and teasing she had suffered on his behalf. However, another—much stronger—part of him, simply wanted to play it cool. Even if he were overly infatuated with this woman and her sudden reappearance into his life, and even if he wanted her for himself, he should be able to roll the usual dice and lay down the usual cards.
However, tossing charm and romance in this woman's face might get him one night, but he wanted all of them. Something about this woman pulled him in, and didn't want to let him leave. But whatever it was he sought from her, he knew he wouldn't get it until she forgave him for the mistakes of his past—of her past.
As she ushered him forward, demanding and discreet, he didn't think to do anything but follow, lighting up a fresh cigarette as he went. "Sure thing, my lady," he replied before breathing in the heavy smoke, careful to limit the amount of sarcasm that he layered each word with.
He really did want to reclaim—or claim for the first time, rather—her trust. It would be step one of his second mission. The second mission that he had inconspicuously bumped ahead of his first mission—but just for a moment, of course...
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Posted: Sun May 12, 2013 4:18 pm
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