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Post by rain on Jan 8, 2011 22:42:22 GMT -5
 when the devil wants to dance with you ,YOU BETTER SAY NEVER[/color][/font] because a dance with the devil might last you forever[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center][/color][/font]
The Underground; a fitting name for one of New York’s most popular night scenes. On the outside, the rectangular building that had once housed poor Irish immigrants during the early days of the Four Points, and assorted weaponry during World War II, was really nothing to shake a stick at. Moss covered the rooftops, age and grime coated the cracked, black-painted windows and graffiti stained the worn brick sides. Located at the mouth of the Hudson as it was, sewage had eaten away at the sidewalk around it, and an eternal smell of rot and decay clung to every corner. The area surrounding it was no better, housing the majority of society’s rejects; displaced teens, convicted criminals and the eternally happy ‘working women.’
But did that stop the clientele from forming winding, snake-like lines around the building every night at 8 o’clock sharp?
Of course not. Everybody wanted their danger fix…and The Underground was sure to give it to them.
Once allowed through the velvet rope and past the large, muscled bouncers, the lucky guest would find themselves immersed in what anyone could call the ‘feverish heat of hell’. Pounding music mixed well with other noises- low voices, stomping feet, the high pitched wailing of happy machines- and the smell of other bodies entwined with the tang liquor could make even the most ignorant mouth water. Straight through the high double doors leading into the club were two hallways; the one to the right leading to the dance floor- blue walls, a fully stocked bar, and two levels; one tame, and one…not so- and the one to the left ending in a small casino- orange walls, sparkling lights, and any gambling game the twisted mind could dream up. Winding around the backs of both rooms, creating a U-shaped area fenced off from the normal population was the ‘VIP Room’, housing the club’s more secretive of customers. Starlets, singers, politicians, business tycoons; all of them found their way to The Underground at some point in the night, content to lull their minds with beer and free fun. Finally, atop the entire club sat ‘the Birds Nest’; a long, bullet-proof-windowed alcove that housed the owner and his most trusted staff.
There were no fights in the club; no brawls, jealous struggles, innocent clashes. Security cameras lined the ceilings, and every scantily dressed waitress carried death in their stockings at all times. People were there to have fun, to let go, to learn something about themselves or the world...before the club found another home.
At least, that was the initial goal of the entire operation. Now, his wonderful little enclave was becoming a magnet for trouble.
Really now…life just wasn’t fair sometimes.
Cane ‘The Bolt’ Gallagher, owner of The Underground and currently unhappy about it all, sighed against the steepled fingers pressed up against his chin. Silver dollar eyes were trained on twin scenes below the Birds Nest; the pulsing waves of dancers in the Blue Room, and the sometimes cheering masses in the Gambling Hall. Already he’d spotted two noticeable faces in the crowds, each belonging to a rival. ‘Gentleman’ Johnny Mardella, a bitter foe from the West Side, sat ram rod straight at the bar, seemingly in a deep conversation with one of the waitresses- a new girl that he would have to have a talk to later on tonight. Off in the other room, Nicholas Ransom was scoping out the poker tables, two lackeys following close behind.
At one point in his long, tedious life, the fact that every enemy had their own silly little nickname would have made him laugh; taken some of the seriousness out of this potentially dire situation.
But the life of a mobster was anything but funny. In fact, most of the time, it was just downright tragic.
Picking up the telephone with yet another martyred sigh, he shut his eyes against the blinking strobe lights beyond.
“Yes, Mara,” He said when his assistant answered, strongly accented voice a low, thunderous rumble. “I’m going to be heading down into the club for a little while; have Shel prepare my table for me. Thank you.” Running a hand through his graying hair, he stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his dark grey suit. Straightening his tie and frowning at the papers strewn about on his desk, Cane moved away from the table, rolling up his sleeves while he exited the room.
The night had only just begun, and things were going to get interesting. He supposed that he lived for such things; the adrenaline rush, the anticipation of a good fight. Known for breaking the kneecaps of those that fell out of his favor, it was a well known fact that to anger the Bolt was to get yourself shocked…usually, to death.
But once, just /once/, he would have enjoyed a nice, quiet evening with his paperwork and a tall glass of scotch.
Oh well. Such was the life of a penitent murderer.
A lot WORDS OPEN BABY! TAGGED Think tailored suit OUTFITtemplate by LISA@GBBS, lyrics by immortal technique CREDITRAWRR! NOTES [/color][/font][/RIGHT] |
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Post by Arrabella 'Bambi' Scatcherd on Jan 21, 2011 16:09:03 GMT -5
Never judge a book by its cover. It was a good rule to live by in this life. You never knew who or what people were. You definitely never knew their intentions or what they were capable of. The first time Bambi ever heard this saying was when she was four. Back in the day when she wasn’t Bambi, she was Arrabella. It seemed so long ago now, like a whole new life, a whole different person, but she remembered it so clearly. She remembered walking into a bar with her mother, a complete dive but she’d become used to those being the places her mother took her to. She remembered her mother walking towards another woman, and the woman practically diving around the bar with her arms held out as she bounded towards Arri’s mother. She remembered the way her little body shook and the way the ground began to shake with it. Finally she remembered her mother cooing at her soothingly, convincing her that everything was okay and that was when the other woman said it, seemingly completely amused by the little ball of blonde fluff, who she clearly didn’t expect such power from. ‘Never judge a book by its cover’.
Tonight, Bambi wasn’t sure if it was the underground that applied to this rule or if it was her. Tonight, the bright and bonny blonde looked so demure and decorous, that her little leather hot pants in her bag had practically groaned in frustration. It wasn’t that this wasn’t her. Okay that’s a lie, it wasn’t. This side of her was something that had always been inside of her, but just something she’d never found a way to express. She was set in her ways but they were ways forced upon her, as opposed to chosen. Few people knew what she went through and of all the people that did understand, she knew none of them. There was however a good reason for this chance of image. Bambi was working a job. Ever the resourceful little one, Bambi managed to capture on of the demons that had been trying to kill her and she’d got the name of the guy that sent him. She’d travelled all the way to New York just to meet a guy who claimed to be an expert on the demon.
Dressed to the nines, Bambi caught a cab down to The Underground. As she arrived, she spied the man stood outside in a suit and tie, clutching a single red rose, as an indication that he was who she was here to meet. For a moment, she looked up to the cover to The Underground’s book. She was definitely going to have to reserve judgement on this one. Stepping forward, Bambi had introduced herself, as Bambi of course, and looped her arm around his as he guided her inside. She seemed cool and calm on the outside, in fact to the rest of the world she probably just looked like a girl on a night out with her guy. On the inside, Bambi’s head was far from calm. From the moment she’d stepped out of that taxi, something felt really wrong. She wasn’t exactly a trusting person to begin with, but something about this guy felt wrong. She’d never completely understood why, to meet and discuss demon problems, they had to meet at one of the biggest night scenes in New York.
Once they’d passed the double doors, the man, who claimed his name was Reggie, led her down towards the club part of the... well, club. The music had been audible from the corridor but as you walked through the door it hit you hard, like a ton of brick. It was a shock really, something that Bambi wasn’t expecting, and that led to another shock. Before she had time to think or react, Reggie’s hand moved to hers, lifting her arm above her head and gently twirling her into the room. As she stopped spinning, Bambi stumbled back a step. Despite being used to heels, she wasn’t used to moving like that and for a brief moment, her heel seemed to twist under her. Right now, she was more conscious of the situation than before. She wasn’t used to things surprising her. For eighteen years she’d had to be on top of her game, she had to be. She knew what a person’s next move was before they did most of the time. This may not have been an attack, but it might as well have been for how scared she was. She’d been asked if she wanted a drink and it took her a moment to come back into reality. “Rootbeer. Please.” The smile she gave him was warm, cute if nothing else, but inside of her everything stormy and unsettled. He’d led her to the bar and positioned her beside him as he ordered.
Leaning her back against the bar, Bambi’s eyes slowly scanned every visible inch of the room. More importantly, Bambi kept her self aware of Reggie’s every move. Even when she wasn’t watching him, she knew his movements; she knew what he was doing. Only thing she didn’t know was what he was going to do next but she had half a clue. She’d been handed her drink and leaned over the bar to pick her self a straw, placing it into the glass and sliding her lips over it. Plugging the end of the straw with her tongue, Bambi made it look like she took a small slip from the glass before smiling at him. A quick “Thank you.” passed her lips before she was encouraged to turn her back to him and walk towards an emptier area of the club. Head held high, Bambi slowly swept forward, the guy she now doubted was named Reggie following. In a swift movement, she placed her glass onto the edge of a table, clenched her fist and twisted her entire body with her fist heading towards him, but before her hand had a chance to collide with his face, her small frame was sent flying across the room. Well there was better ways to get across the room than through the air, but she was going to have to make the best of this now wasn’t she?
The black and white blur came to a stop as she landed with a crash onto a table. Bambi didn’t even take a moment to recover from it before looking to the guy sat at the table. “Excuse me for a moment.” With that, she hoisted up her skirt to reveal a holster wrapped around her thigh, pulling her gun out of it and twisting onto her knee’s to point the gun at her ‘date’. She sent a shot flying towards him. She could have sworn she saw the quick glow of yellow eyes before he vanished into thin air and her bullet found itself imbedded in the wall. As the people inside the club began to freak a little, the blonde bombshell gulped silently, lowering the gun. Well that was one way to draw attention to herself. Turning to look at the occupant of the table, she tucked the gun back into its ‘hiding place’. “I’m very sorry about that.” She slid herself off the table, brushing herself down and pulling the hem of her skirt down to prevent herself from revealing far more than she wanted anyone to see right now. She had to get out of here, quick.
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Post by rain on Jan 21, 2011 16:54:55 GMT -5
when the devil wants to dance with you ,YOU BETTER SAY NEVER [/color][/font] because a dance with the devil might last you forever[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center][/color][/font]
Ah yes; the loud pounding of feet against the floor, the faint sounds of laughter passing on the man made breeze, the happy catcalls of ignorant drunks? It was enough to make any true “New Yorker” relax and put a smile onto their face.
…Well, almost any New Yorker. But at least he let out a satisfied sigh. That was always a step in the right direction, right?
Right.
Tucking one hand into the pocket of his coat, Cane strolled down the stairs from the Bird's Nest, nodding at the bouncers manning the security door settled comfortably in between the hidden hallway.
“Heya, Cane!” The larger of the two men said, smiling widely. Dallas Valerian, one of the mobster's most trusted employees- and his prized fighter, when the big man reverted to his other persona; the Underground's most popular cage fighter- moved forward to unhook the velvet rope that kept the drunken crowds away from the private entrance. There weren’t many men who used his first name and lived long enough to complete their sentence, but Dallas was...different. It wasn’t everyday that a man left his wife’s sickbed to watch your back during a chance meeting with a prominent Las Vegas Family. “What’re you doing here? I thought you said you’d be visiting next week.”
”I thought I'd grace the club with my presence.” He replied, the corner of his lip twitching a bit, in the faint semblance of a smile. “How are the children, Dally? Well, I hope.”
The polite chatter went on like that for a minute or two, both men standing comfortably in front of the door. At the irritated catcalls and angry hisses from the line beside them that led to the restrooms, however, Cane nodded again and moved to the door, waving at the bouncer over his shoulder.
The inside of the club was lively, as usual. The pit bosses were managing the gambling portion of the large building, and the interior bouncers made sure that the pit was clean and fight-free. Good. He hadn’t been looking forward to chastising any of the managers he’d hired to keep the place running in his stead, so this was a nice little surprise.
It was the underlying reason for such a surprise visit, after all; to judge how the “owners” handled the club on a nightly basis, when the boss wasn’t due to arrive. He’d have to remember to add a little something extra in his employees’ Christmas cards that year.
…Well, maybe not. Their ‘bonus’ would be to stay out of the notorious Red Room, as the little worker-bees liked to call it. Named after the blood that the janitorial staff had to clean off of every surface, it was a place that none on the payroll wanted to be introduced to. When a person went into the Red Room, they were never seen again, after all.
Except maybe on the 10 o’clock news.
With a leisurely pace that bellied the air of urgency of those around him, the gangster strolled toward his favorite booth. Set in the back of the club, it gave him a nice view of the dance floor and the door that led in. If he saw any kind of curious looking character come in, he would signal to one of the bouncers positioned near the bar, and the problem would be taken care of before a scene could be caused. He was very good at reading people; he had to be, in his line of business.
So, color him chagrined when he missed a certain blond and her smirking escort when they came in. Settling in his booth, he’d turned to summon one of the many waitresses servicing the VIP booths behind him, when the room erupted. Abruptly, a body sailed into his table and landed squarely on the top. Surprised, Cane jerked up and cursed when his lower half met the table. He slid down the booth, immediately getting to his feet and snarling out a curse in Latin before he could stop himself, when the girl hiked up her skirt.
The perverted part of his brain couldn’t help but urge him to appreciate the show, but all such thoughts were erased when a shot rang through the room, over the loud thud of the music. Like a switch had been flipped, the music stopped and people began surging toward the door. Screams echoed, people shoved those in front of them. It was chaos.
And Cane could only thank God that tonight wasn’t as crowded as usual, or he’d be cleaning up trampled bodies for the next few hours.
White hot anger surged through him as he turned to face the girl. Straightening to his full height, he glared down at her. He could feel that hated tattoo- evidence of his ‘curse’- roil and surge against his chest, where it had chose to rest that morning. By the burning in his eyes, he knew that they were beginning to glow, but he didn’t bother to cover them. Given that the girl’s enemy and his disappearing act, she wasn’t one of the normal humans that frequented his ever moving club.
”What the FUCK was that?” He snarled, fists curling at his sides. He tried to calm himself down, but he really did hate it when Heaven and Hell did its fighting thing on his turf. ”Weren’t you informed of the treaty that was made? You and your kind keep your goddamn war OUT of my club, and I choose no sides. I thought the rules were clear.”
He moved toward her until only scant inches separated them. It was the closest he could get without hurting her…and God, she smelled good. Sweet, like cotton candy. Would she taste the same way?
Ruthlessly, he shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. Still glaring, he waved off the bouncers that moved their way and jerked his head toward the Bird’s Nest entrance to the side.
”Start moving, blondie. You’re in my domain now, and I want to know why the fuck you just tried to off a demon in front of innocents. MOVE.”
A lot WORDS Bambi! TAGGED Think tailored suit OUTFITtemplate by LISA@GBBS, lyrics by immortal technique CREDITRAWRR! NOTES [/color][/font][/RIGHT] |
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Post by Arrabella 'Bambi' Scatcherd on Jan 22, 2011 19:40:38 GMT -5
Oh crap, she was in trouble wasn’t she? She was always doing this. The whole strike first and think about the consequences later thing, really never did her any favours. She could tell instantly from the look on that guys face he wasn’t happy, but really what was the big deal? It wasn’t like she shot someone. Fair enough she could have and it was a stupid risk. But she didn’t. Lucky her. Ack. Not so lucky her. This guy was still pissed. Pissed and.... talking nonsense from what she could tell. Treatys and her kind and war... What the hell? What did he mean her kind. She wasn’t even aware she was a kind. Not a particularly well known one at least. The bemused and slightly angry look on her face stuck with her for the entire time he snarled at her. Well wasn’t he just a perky little puppy? Sure okay, probably wasn’t the best place to land, right in front of the guy that OWNED the club, but it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t help where that jerk’s telekinetic powers decided to toss her. Her head turned up to look sternly at him as he stepped towards her, much like a child, determined to hold its ground and say no to its mother. She watched where his head directed her and listened to his words, letting out a sigh of defeat and moving as she was told to.
Bambi was more than aware of the fact that if she wanted to be gone she could just teleport out of there. She wasn’t completely sure why she wasn’t, honestly. She was clearly unhappy at following the talk, dark, handsome stranger’s orders. Her heels clattered and clicked as she stomped across the floor. She wasn’t in any position to be giving orders but with a slight growl, she began to speak. “Okay, first of all, don’t call me blondie. Second? Shouting and demanding never won any one respect and lastly, I really don’t know what you were talking about back there.” Her blonde curls flew around fiercely as she moved like the wind to get to where Cane was ordering him to go. She couldn’t help but bitch inside her head about his domain having too long a walk from one place to the other. Where the hell was he taking her anyway? Eh, what did it matter? She’d be gone before he had a chance to do anything. He confused her though, by the way he spoke he didn’t seem like any demon or angel she’d ever come across, but she hadn’t been able to miss the slight glow to his eyes. So, what was he? She wasn’t closed minded, the child of a demon and a human was a rarity, she’d known so many people and creatures be completely taken aback by what she was and what she could do, so she knew not to underestimate anything else, or doubt that because she didn’t know what something was, it didn’t exist.
Once they’d reached their destination, Bambi neglected to take in her surroundings, spinning on her heels (and a lot more successfully now than when she was twirled upon entering ) to face Cane. “Right, now, growly... For the record, I said I was sorry. But what did you mean by ‘your kind’ because no, I know nothing about a treaty or anything else you said. I had no intentions of doing that here, it was just how the dice rolled I’m afraid.” You could tell by looking at the little blonde thing stood there that she was as stubborn as all of hell, but you probably couldn’t tell that she was just as deadly too. Looking down for a moment, Bambi grumbled, sliding her finger tips inside the seams of her shirt, clutching the cups of her bra and swiftly pulling them up. Ever so gently, her chin pressed to her chest, she mumbled to herself. I knew this stupid thing would do my head in.” She turned her gaze up again stretching her arms out in front of her and fluttering her hands, motioning at him. “Sorry you can go about scolding me now.”
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Post by rain on Jan 26, 2011 21:18:05 GMT -5
when the devil wants to dance with you ,YOU BETTER SAY NEVER [/color][/font] because a dance with the devil might last you forever[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center][/color][/font]
His molars were going to explode, if he kept on grinding them like he was; the thought drifted through the immortal’s mind as he herded the blond toward the Bird’s Nest. With a glare, the bouncers at either side of the stairwell moved to the side, allowing them to pass. There were identical shocked looks on their faces as they looked down at his fist, and the twitching fingers of his free hand that was close to her own wrist.
Because of his curse, Cane had been very careful to make sure that he kept touching to a minimal. Wait staff that had become friendly with him were kept at arm’s length, the many beautiful women who frequented the club were made aware of his disinterested position...all in all, this was probably the most human contact that he’d had in years. In the back of his mind, he could feel that familiar snake uncoil itself, eyeing the woman out of his own silver orbs.
Thank God that they’d come to his private office, before things got out of hand. With a sharp wave of his hand, he dismissed his secretary and whirled around to face the girl. A wave of irritation rushed through him as he glared, crossing his arms over his wide chest. For the past few centuries that he’d had in the mortal world, there had been a very clear deal between himself, the demons and most of the angels Upstairs. While God had turned His back on him a long time ago, it had been made clear that he would choose no sides in the war between Heaven and Hell, if they were to leave him and his own alone. Until tonight, he was quite certain that the agreement still stood.
That is, until a girl who was obviously not human took potshots at a demon inside his club. What was going on here? Was she some kind of undercover angel, taking the War onto his turf? He would have her superior’s wings for this!
”Go on scolding me?” Cane repeated incredulously. ”Good God, girl…do you know who I am? You aren’t human; I could smell it on you…do you have any idea what you just stumbled into?”
Or how much I’d love to touch your face right now, he silently added. His fingers twitched again, and he curled them into fists to keep them at his sides. He really did hate coming into such close quarters with beautiful women. It made him so…HUNGRY.
With a curse, he lifted up one hand to rub at his temples, muttering to himself in Latin. Finally, after a few deep breaths, he let his arm fall back down and glared at her. ”But let’s just pretend that you’re as ignorant as you claim. How dare you open fire in a club full of innocent people. I should be calling the police and having them arrest your smart ass, for possible homicide! But I’m gonna be nice tonight; just let you go with a warning. If you ever, EVER come near The Underground again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
He took a few more steps closer to her, until scant inches separated them. She smelled ridiculously good, and it took everything he had to keep himself rigid and glaring. ”You put peoples’ lives at risk…for what? To kill a demon? Go do that on your own turf, Angel...whatever your name is.”
A lot WORDS OPEN BABY! TAGGED Think tailored suit OUTFITtemplate by LISA@GBBS, lyrics by immortal technique CREDITRAWRR! NOTES [/color][/font][/RIGHT] |
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Post by Arrabella 'Bambi' Scatcherd on Jan 29, 2011 11:24:49 GMT -5
Why was it that as this guy drove Bambi around the twist, her eyes couldn’t stop travelling to his arms?! Some how, this arrogant jerk had become slightly attractive to her and she didn’t know how the hell it’d happened. While she was being naive to believe it was so, she honestly thought he was being unfair. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t know that opening fire in the middle of a club was wrong, but she also didn’t believe he gave her a fair trial before choosing to attack her. What happened to punishment reflecting crime? Did he even know what hers was? It wasn’t like she left the house with this intention. Okay that was a lie, she did, but not there and then. She wasn’t capable of just being polite and apologizing. Maybe if she was she could have cuted him into submission or something. It wasn’t her and she wasn’t a good actress. So instead she gave him her natural attitude. An attitude that only seemed to piss him off more. Oopsie. It probably would have helped if his words didn’t continue to anger her more. Her eyebrow quirked upwards slightly and she practically snorted. She at least offered him the chance to have his own little rant before opening her mouth to bitch back. “No I don’t know who you are. Who the hell do you think you are, pulling the all high and mighty crap? Oh and for the record...” Tilting her head down, Bambi took a small sniff. “According to the bottle I smell like a glittering champagne with hints of exotic lychee and raspberry mingled with crisp apple. Seems pretty human-y to me.” Wow. If she could hear herself, she was pretty sure she’d annoy herself.
Running her fingers up to lift her hair at the roots, she let out a sigh. “Okay yes, I’ll admit that pulling a gun out in a crowded club might not have been the best idea, but I analysed the situation... there was no one in front or behind him that could have possibly intercepted the bullet, there was no one close enough to him that could have moved in front of it before it hit him OR the dry wall, which was the only thing really at risk and if you want me to pay for it, I’ll pay for it. Yes, maybe I scared a few people. But I’m good at what I do. Everyone was safe.” She was doing her best to not use the words ‘I was scared’ or ‘I’d love to have not had to get into a fight today’, because both of those were true and would probably have helped her case a lot, but that wasn’t her. Her pride got the better of her all of the time. “But yes, I understand your oh so kind little offer, trust me, I don’t want to come here again. But as for killing me, better people have tried.” She was ready to leave, when he took steps towards her. She could have sworn her heart stopped dead. Once again, her eyes travelled to his arms before scanning his body and right then and there, she felt something inside her jump. He didn’t scare her, it wasn’t fear it was…. Something else. She was about ready to give in and beg for his forgiveness, possibly beg for something else, until….
“ANGEL?” Well hell, she practically squeeked she was so angry. She didn’t know that Cane was one of the few people in the world that would have actually known the hell she’d felt in her life, at the hand of Angels. But like I said, she didn’t know that, so she was just thoroughly pissed off at the accusation. Without a second thought, Bambi’s body twisted and her open hand travelled up towards his face. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve by aiming to bitch slap him. He could have been anything, anyone, but she wasn’t exactly in her right mind, right now.
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Post by rain on Mar 19, 2011 14:06:25 GMT -5
when the devil wants to dance with you ,YOU BETTER SAY NEVER [/color][/font] because a dance with the devil might last you forever[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center][/color][/font]
God, but the urge to strangle her was so strong, his arms were practically vibrating at his sides. Something cold and evil tickled at his mind, and he forced himself to take a step away from her, when all he wanted to do was close the distance between them. It didn’t matter if he hated her or not for putting his club at risk; she smelled good and looked so damn soft…he wanted to touch her. Craved it.
And the madness that was his penance practically salivated at the thought. Do it, that insane voice whispered. Touch her. I bet she’d just lean into you…maybe smack you. Don’t you miss that kind of pain? You could pull her into your arms and kiss her…you remember the sweetness of a kiss, don’t you? Or has it been that long…
Another step back joined the first, and the immortal was halfway to his desk. Fuck, but this was why he kept to business deals with fugly, middle aged men and conversations with everyone else over the phone or through video chat. He hadn’t been close to another living soul- save for the club, but that didn’t count, thanks to his anti-magnetism- in so damn long and it was starting to wear on his mind. Was he finally crazy? He’d tried so hard to keep himself sane; keep himself immersed in numbers and law breaking, so he didn’t think about anything else. About the blood on his hands, or the faces of the innocents he’d killed with them—
Biting the inside of his lip until it bled, Cane forced his mind to return to the present. The little chit was saying something to him, in that shrill, angry voice of hers and he couldn’t miss out on whatever it was. Maybe she was telling him which Bird she was…or giving him a hint to duck for cover. Either way, he’d rather focus on being angry, than the urge to put his fingertips right there, on that soft little cheek.
”Good at what you do?” He repeated, tactfully ignoring her little ‘who do you think you are’ quip. ”What, are you some kind of anti-demon assassin, or something? ‘Cause lady, you picked the wrong fucking club to hit, if that’s the case. My place is neutral and has been for the past fifty years. Demons and angels alike are allowed in here, and there ain’t no fighting allowed. Congrats, honey; you just broke one of my golden rules, so now everybody’s gonna think it’s okay to go open season on one another. Fuck. FUCK.”
He didn’t normally lose his cool in such an obvious way, but her nearness and the fact that he’d have to close the entire operation down for a few weeks to hide from heat from the local law enforcement was making him a tad edgy. Then there was that fucking voice, and the need…fuck, man, today was just NOT his fucking day!
Giving her a hellfire glare, Cane just stalked over to the little bar at the side of the room, poured himself a brandy then moved back over to where she stood. ”What, not an angel? I’m sorry; my radar’s a bit off, ever since one of those winged bastards cut my head off last June. Well, I know that you’re not a demon; I can smell the sulfur on those fuckers a mile away. So that leaves…what? A Fallen?”
Turning around, he planned on glaring the answers right out of her, but never got the chance. Like a shot, that little hand careened toward his face. Instinct born of getting similar introductions to the palms of strangers had him dropping his glass and whipping his own hand up, catching her wrist before she could connect with his face. His face turned down in a mask of irritation...but quickly, it turned to a mixture of wonder and yearning.
She was as soft as he'd thought. His eyes slid closed as his thumb slid over the smooth flesh of her inner wrist and he grit his teeth against the urge to pull her up against him. She meant nothing to him, so he could keep on holding her arm like this and not lose it...not yet. God, it had been so long since he'd touched anyone. So damn long.
A lot WORDS OPEN BABY! TAGGED Think tailored suit OUTFITtemplate by LISA@GBBS, lyrics by immortal technique CREDITRAWRR! NOTES [/color][/font][/RIGHT] |
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Post by Arrabella 'Bambi' Scatcherd on Mar 25, 2011 6:23:30 GMT -5
Seriously, Mr Grump was getting right under her skin! He continued guessing at what she was and taking shots in the dark. The closest he got was ‘anti-demon assassin’. Really, it was more accurate that all demons were anti-Bambi assassins and she was simply doing her best to stay alive. He really didn’t seem to care about anything but himself and his damned club. She didn’t exactly do it on purpose! What the hell did he want from her? Did he expect her to get down on her knees and beg? Psh. Maybe in some parallel universe where she had no shame. “Look Buddy, if you’re really –that- bothered about what I did, maybe you should track down the yellow eyes that tried to kill me and have a word with –him-! I mean I’m pretty sure that in a court of law this would be considered self defence as opposed to violence. I couldn’t be wrong I mean, I don’t follow the law –that- closely but… What did you want me to do? Die? I’m sorry. I haven’t spent my entire life fighting for my life to die now. That’s not the point!!” The irritation in her voice was enough to set alarm bells off right now, so she knew he had to pick up on it. She was pretty sure she’d already said she was sorry and she wasn’t doing so again!
After being shot down for his ‘angel’ guess, Cane seemed to go off on a rant about his radar being off an angel having cut his head off last June. Suddenly her attention was caught, her head tilting slightly as she tried to work out quite what HE was and how he managed to survive a beheading. As soon as he mentioned demons, her head snapped back upright and the scowl she’d worn previously consumed her features once more. A fallen?? For Pete’s sake! Did this guy think he was a detective or something? Her wrist had quickly been taken into his grip and she had so many things she wished to shout back at him but none of them seemed to come out. Instead her eyes blinked open and shut rapidly and she watched the way he seemed to react to her.
Cane’s eyes had shut, his thumb gently stroking her wrist. She wasn’t sure why but as he did so, her heart began to race in her chest. He eyes mimicked his, sliding shut to conceal those bright green moons she’d inherited from her mother. Her mind suddenly raced with her heart and, though she had no intention of using her powers let alone revealing what she was, the ground beneath their feet slowly started to turn into soft green grass. The heat of the afternoon sun beat down on the pair of them and the sound of birds singing joined the smell of a freshly cut meadow as it surrounded them. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t even seem to move. The only thing active in the young cambion was apparently, her powers. Everything else had drawn to a halt. For the first time in a long time Bambi’s guard was down.
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Post by rain on Mar 26, 2011 22:46:52 GMT -5
when the devil wants to dance with you ,YOU BETTER SAY NEVER [/color][/font] because a dance with the devil might last you forever[/color][/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center][/color][/font]
He should probably be feeling incredibly ridiculous; the feeling that he was about to melt under her touch. For one thing, she was without a doubt, the most annoying woman he’d met in the past two centuries and for another, she just might be one of Heaven or Hell’s newest assholes. She’d shot into a crowd of humans, defied him when he demanded that she explain herself…and ooh! She’d even gone and back talked him! She was obviously an irresponsible, selfish, spoiled child who had no idea of the ramifications to what she’d just done!
And he wanted to bed her. Good Lord…he wanted to throw her right onto his desk and feel her body wrapped around his, just once. The feel of her soft skin against his hand was enough of a stimulant to make his body go stiff, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to let loose a very embarrassing moan. He really didn’t have much of a trigger these days, he thought with an absent sense of amusement. He’d probably embarrass himself completely if she held his hand…and God only knew what would happen if she gave him a hug. He’d probably spontaneously combust.
And yet…there was something different about this particular contact. That damned voice in the back of his head practically howled with glee, as if it knew that some kind of bond was about to be put in place between them. It salivated; cried out in delight as his body moved closer to her of its own accord. It knew that he wouldn’t be able to let go. It knew that he would somehow grow fond of this woman…and it knew that it would finally be set free, to kill her. It knew.
He couldn’t let it happen. Not again.
With a gasp, Cane’s eyes popped open and widened, as he took in the sight of grass and sunlight. His little Bird’s Nest had indeed become one; equipped with spring-time singing and a cool, comforting wind. He was in awe as he took in the sight; something innocent that the modern day world was missing of late. How had she managed to do this? Was she a witch? Her scent and the energy she gave off screamed either Fallen or demon…
The immortal froze when he realized what that meant. He’d never met a half breed before, even in his long existence, which ultimately meant that they were more than a tad rare. His eyes immediately went to her face, and the need to embrace her became almost too much to bear. Had she been sent there to tempt him? Was this another one of those freak-angel’s attempts to drive him insane?
Gritting his teeth, he let go of her wrist and took a step back. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and his fists clenched at his sides as his entire body screamed for him to go back to her. He just wanted to feel, dammit! He wanted to feel something!
But he couldn’t…not ever again. Such was the punishment of a penitent murderer. ”Leave, Cambion,” He managed to rasp, voice a husky growl. ”Get out and don’t ever set foot in The Underground again.”
A lot WORDS OPEN BABY! TAGGED Think tailored suit OUTFITtemplate by LISA@GBBS, lyrics by immortal technique CREDITRAWRR! NOTES [/color][/font][/RIGHT] |
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