Post by JR on Sept 20, 2015 1:31:46 GMT -8
Cast: Alice Clare Donovan & Abaddon Bell
TW: Adult content. Slightly NSFW. Bad words. Violence.
Summary: Since Alice accepted his druggy gum, Abaddon has been teaching her how to explore the darker parts of her afflictions, both mentally and magically. Here, we watch as the blonde female stalks and lures her prey, and the dark male coaches and generally distracts with being too damn sexy.
Alice Donovan: Drip. Drip. Drip. It'd been going for hours, or what felt like it. Taunting her. The plop of water hitting somewhere from which Alice could not find, to a place she couldn't detect either. Every room within the building Argosy and the Donovan witches lived, she heard it. Drip drip dripping. What had happened next couldn't entirely be her fault, right? The way she'd tossed her bedroom. Throwing things left and right trying to find the source of the water that tormented her. She'd done the same in Ophelia's room, ignoring her sister's pleas for her to stop, but as the blonde ranted and raged and screamed for quiet .. it had been her grandfather who'd given it. Chanting softly spoken words that had collapsed the young witch in the hallway on the way to destroy another room in the house. Out cold, with no way to block the spell that he cast around her. When she woke up, it was already dark, but blessedly quiet. She was in her bed, still fully clothed and in a position that said she'd just been dumped there, most likely by the strength of her sister. The bruising that claimed her face felt like fire, throbbing from the state of her injuries and when she gingerly touched at it, she felt the dried streaks of tears she hadn't even realized had been there. A stiff shift sat her up, and seeing the state of things, it was painfully clear she didn't want to be here. It was nothing to leave; creeping down the steps that lead from the apartments above to the store -- bypassing the stairs she knew creaked, and making sure to disable the bell above the shop's front door when she slipped through it. Given this was London, the streets weren't as quiet as her home was, but she welcomed the noise. Welcomed the adventure they might bring. Heading into the heart of things, where activity buzzed and university students went to get the most drunk, the clunky heels of her boots thudded behind her. It was a split decision to use the calling card she'd discovered just the night previous, with the threat of rape and stabbings hanging over her dumb head, and so as she walked she opened up the line, a little cautiously at first. Doonnnnn. Hey Don. Oh Dooooooon. Raspy vocals a sing song in her head. Hands shoved into the pockets of the small leather jacket she wore, paired with the low cut of a top that bled into skinnies tucked into those trendy ankle boots. All black, Johnny Cash style -- save the brilliance of purples and blues that decorated her face. I'm going to go find something to chew on, if you'd like to join, the Alice in her head offered. -d-
Abaddon Bell: A babe in the woods picking up skills as she went deeper in the forest. She fumbled for things she was starting to comprehend, but unable to make a firm connection, or direct. It may have been the lack of emotional distress or maybe another err, but really it was Abaddon merely not pulling back at the flow of energy he felt. The subtle tug on his consciousness and the salt-water that filled his nose, her words in his head. Her response was silence, a void of him. Nothing. Thirty minutes turned to fifty seven when finally her patience was rewarded with the scent of apples. The smell was followed by an assault from behind, apparently sneaking in through fire exits or ajar windows. She'd feel the spidery climb of fingers along hip and coming beneath the hold of leather coat and groin pressed into ample ass. The simmering warmth he always conveyed was there, but even more so against her ass as he already was stirring from the feel of her body melding to his. Whether it was from the nights they spent pressing against each other or naturally structured this way, it was obvious the monster was built to fit against the water-witch. Blonde hair was scooped by fingers that crept over her shoulder, pulling the length back behind her. Even when she was hiding in the darkness of alleys he was there right behind her, even further in the black. The monster found it hard to keep his hands from touching things he felt were in his possession, it was probably why fingers dove down the front of her skinny jeans. It was a tight squeeze too. He grunted and ripped hand down the front of her, fingers clutching at the folds and sliding middle finger into her, to feel her heat. "Mm, now I feel at home." He mumbled at her ear while peering over her head at the room, a few glances went there way. Obviously a few patrons even seeing exactly what happened, it was easy to see. Their eyes would lift. Their eyes would lower. Their eyes would widen. And head would turn. Only one or two people actually had the opportunity to peruse Alice being consumed by the man in the black coat behind her. "What are you doing here?" <done>
Alice Clare Donovan: Bugger all. It didn't work. The night previous, she'd thought a few words, and poof there he was. Almost literally poof, as he'd arrived on in a mist of smoke. Well then. Looks as if she were flying solo, and maybe that was for the better. The aftermath of a breakdown could sometimes be a terrible thing. She was a flight risk, but maybe always had been. The first pub she came upon spilled with uni students, and Alice shoved herself inside -- mindless of the shoulders she crashed into, or the stylish shoes beneath her steps. The pounding in her temple had moved it's way to the back of her neck, and when she squeezed herself into a spot at the crowded bar, she made the split decision that nothing short of tequila would rid her of this pain. This horrible terrible pain. Two shots, she ordered, whatever was going to go down roughest. It was bottom shelf shit, and burned when she swallowed each down one right after the other. But she wasn't going to waste time just standing there at the bar, not when there were so many people there. Crowds were a fifty fifty hit or miss for her. Sometimes she did rather well in them. Sometimes they overwhelmed her, but so far she seemed to be doing fine. By the the time Don arrived fifty seven minutes later, she was doing .. even better, with the help of another pair of burning shots, and a bite. Chew on something turned out be in the most literal sense. But rather, she might've said someone. When the beast bellied up behind her, fitting his familiar warmth against her back, and the even more familiar feel of something far too solid against her rump, Alice was in the midst of getting her teeth in the neck of some sweet young co-ed. An art student, she'd told Alice, with a short crop of fiery curls and a bevy of freckles like a galaxy on her young face. Her bee-stung mouth was already a bit swollen, a testament that Alice had been there too. It was this young thing, we didn't even know her name, that felt any alarm at the sudden presence of another -- because Alice wasn't alarmed at all. There was no one else it could have been but the monster that crept in her bed -- or rather, any convenient surface, as they barely made it into a bed. Tilting her head so he might take what he wanted, seeing as he'd scooped all that spun gold away, her tongue slithered up the side of the redhead's neck. "Company's come," she whispered against her ear, the words breaking with a soft gasp when masculine hand shoved it's way down the front of her pants. Sorry, Don -- some people were afraid of the dark. Because the tiny thing took one look of him all tucked in the shadows and taking liberties, and with a yelp she struggled to get her own hand out of Alice's bra, and took off into the crowd; where few had begun to notice the goings on. Leaning into all that apple fresh heat, her head tilted back along his shoulder and bared her teeth at him. "You've scared her off, like a poor little kitten with a loud noise. Look at the way she scampers for safety." Sorry bout the wrist there, but Alice was twisting herself around, and sliding her arms up and around his neck, so she could smear her mouth against his lower lip. A thing made so much easier by the added height that her boots offered. Go boots. -d-
Abaddon Bell: Grin in place and the gators of his eyes chased after the redhead that sparked off and away from where the fire that he had joined. He didn't look disappointed or shocked to see her bounding off, the monster's mask tipped to her. Fingers danced and his arm bent, grinding harshly against her body and becoming an awkward shove that did send pain lancing up in his arm, but he only stuck his tongue through a bite of teeth. Face scrunching just a little when she drew her lips to his, tongue sprang free and he drew sustenance from her mouth. A hand that smelled of her and warm left her vacant and empty again, pleasure in the absence of pain softening his grimace while he took her by the cheek and cradled her chin. He lingered and chewed on her like the apple she was, plucked from the tree. Rotten, but still so sweet. Tongue cradled her own and sinister face tilted back, to revel in her glory. "I don't chase the ones that run away, but sometimes they come back." He said carefully, but was that truth? Alice had run initially, right? She had come to his door, tasted him and ran for the light. She had said she'd be back to the dark, but he found her before she had the chance to make that promise. Sometimes he saw things in others. Things he wanted. He treasured her in his touch that was so careful on her face, while tongue tapped at his own tooth. "You must be feeling better." The wolf's head tilted a little and let eyes linger down the lithesome thing and the garments she chose this night. A grin that said nothing returning to deliver nip to the swell of bottom petal, broken scab made fresh and red that was tasted in the murmur of the bar. "Mm, how long would it take for you to catch us another?" <done>
Alice Donvoan: Such a pout planted itself within her expression when he removed his hand, even having seen the discomfort that rode his own features at the way her movement had twisted him about in there and made it so weird. She ignored his pain for more favorable things, like stealing the taste off his tongue with her own, until he began chewing on hers and Alice squirmed against him. Pressing herself as close as close could be, she figured if she gave a little push they could be lost in the dark shadows of the room and no one would be the wiser. But she didn't make the move, keeping herself in the dim light that shone just above, staying in that illuminated halo so it looked a bit as if she were being felt up by the shadows themselves. And how accurate that might be. His words had her sparing a glance over the curve of her shoulder, but rather than the redhead, she locked eyes with one of the onlookers; one that just so happened to prudent and disgusted by such behavior. Alice blew a little kiss before her attention returned to the wolf who'd thrown off the sheep's clothing so long ago. "Don't you?," she all but purred, guiding the allure in her voice to something akin to seduction. It was all so new to her though, so forgive her if she sounded a bit off with it. He'd found her more than once, she remembered, and that rhetorical question said as much. A slash of dark brow rose when he inquired after her well being. "Not at all. I think that dead fuck rattled something lose in my head. Or my water is turning against me." Details? Maybe if he pried, but she was too busy now with how he was tearing open her lip again to take a proper taste of the witch within his dangerous clutches. The question spoken against the taste of blood on her lips detached a soft murr of a laugh. "I wanted that one. She looked a bit rather like a strawberry, just ripe for plucking. Shouldn't I be feeling guilty?" The question sprang from nowhere, and what it's subject content could be was up for grabs. Pawing all over sweet girls in the dark, when it'd been made so clear her sweet treats belonged to another. Hacking away the life of a creep on a basement floor. You decide. -d-
Abaddon Bell: He pinched her chin then and there, and there was a starkness in the air. The warm buzz of his energy going chill and dead, it was nothing. The grin drifted away only briefly and it was a blistering winter in the absence of the things he always permeated. Green eyes didn't even burn, but looked pale in the dark. Voice frigid and crisp, a truth laid out in a piece of what he was. "I drowned my brother when I was a young boy, never feel guilty for anything you do. Or you always will feel guilty for everything you do. There is no shame you could wear that I wouldn't suck from you skin." The grin creeping back and the heat flooded back over and his mouth hot against hers, teeth chewing at her lip. Black inked fingers crept over her abdomen and up to feel one of those rounded soft breasts through her shirt, pressure applied and fingers sent to knead. "If you want to taste a strawberry, eat one." She'd feel fingers on her ass, on her thigh, up her hip. He gripped her through the clothes and nails dug through to her skin. He tilted his chin some to peer away from her briefly and into the crowds of people mingling, but he didn't have anything in particular he was looking for. Maybe the redhead, but who knew. Attention wavered and tendrils of brown hung over the handsome structure of bearded features. "I can watch you eat it, or we can eat it together if you want. Whatever you want. Always." He cooed, in the grin, and he sank poison in deeper in words of devotion. But words he had been saying since the day he met her. Always asking. What do you want? <done>
Alice Donvoan: The force of the way he caught her chin, the intensity of it, brought a still to Alice's restless movements. She barely felt the hurt of it, when his taut fingers gripped over the bruising from the gray man's fist, so caught up in the look in his eyes when he corrected her. For a moment, she couldn't take a breath -- not with the chill that came from him, frosting over the air between them rather than the sultry heat that usually passed. She only had a moment for a nod, but he'd see the truth in the blue of the eyes that stared into hers that she trusted him in that. There was no need to even reason with herself -- it'd been self defense, hadn't it? -- because what he spoke was just that. Guilt was a thing that didn't belong here. He took her mouth once more, tormenting her well abused lip, and Alice rose to her toes some just to get that much closer. Her hands slid down, finding the lapels of his coat to grip there and keep him right where she wanted; while the scorch of his touch found her again. She craved that heat, a girl who loved so much the cold. Squirmed into it and let her body beg for more of it. "She didn't taste like one though," Alice muttered. "I would probably have to mash her into jam just to get the sweetness." A pity, she decided, while walking fingers up his chest like a spider might to get them into the power of that beard. Amusement played in the lift of his brows with his suggestion. "It'd have to be just the right one. That wasn't the right one. We'll find us one, maybe one still hanging from the vine, so we can pick her off with our teeth." Chomped hers at him, and before he knew it, Alice was dancing back some steps to void him of her charm. "I want you to teach me something. Anything. Anything at all." -d-
Abaddon Bell: The little thing was turning into a monster in the dark, unraveling from chrysalis to spread her colorful wings and put her poison in the air. He would never let her get too far. He was pulled and he came. She tasted and he bit. Fingertip finding themselves empty of her curves when she began her little wander. She was becoming sharper and harsher, something fierce, but she moved unfrightened. Her words summoned forth and he already chose that he would teach her "anything", a thing now and a lesson later. He would be cruel in his games. Already plotting pieces in his mind and putting weaves in the air, he grinned a little deeper and dipped his head down to cover his face in tendrils of chocolate. Arms shifted and rippled the black overcoat sloughing off his shoulders to reveal the black button-up dress shirt beneath, a red flower tucked in his pocket. He regarded the little birdie Alice again with a steady eye, and tongue peeking once more. She was addicted to the death, no doubt. There was so much power in it, and those who had their fingers in the well could find themselves swept away. He would this for her. "Find someone out there you want to have all of, bring them back, and I'll teach you a lesson that you will never forget." He let his tongue linger at the air before jacket was folded over his arm and he tilted himself towards the doorway of that empty sideroom. Shoulder hitting edge of the door, tilting it just so, greens on the girl to see if this was a road she wanted to take. To see if the high she was after was worth the price of snuffing a soul out forever. So much power in that. The fate of everything altered. Time itself manipulated and a whole new world forged by one simple act. <done>
Alice Donovan: The truth of the matter stood. He'd offered to be her private dancer -- er no, Alice, tutor -- but so far the lessons given were on the matter of their ever growing ardor. Were they matters of the heart? Hints and glimpses, but mostly he was opening her world to a better half, where pleasure reigned along side power and fear had no place in the kingdom. Perhaps it was best to start mingling in the two things he offered. She always did like learning, and there was far too much for him to teach her that had little to do with his dick. As long as that too wasn't kept away, Alice was certain things would continue on smoothly. His suggestion of what they'd need for this lesson rose up Alice's brow. But she simply tapped the side of her nose knowingly at him, and turned on her heel; leaving him with the sight of the left to right swing of rounded rump in tight black before she was nothing more than a golden halo in the crowd. It hadn't yet crossed though her mind that whoever she brought along to play was going to be made to suffer. But magic demanded sacrifice, a thing she had long since been taught. That sacrifice could be many a thing, but it was almost always done in blood. She wasn't long. Sliding back into the room in, with company in tow. A murmur of words spoken for another's ear alone, but Abaddon's wouldn't miss their affection. She made empty promises to the lad she tugged along, using the newfound wiles of her body to urge him with her. She was wrapped around him, and he was younger than she. Which had made the mark too easy, perhaps. We'll see. -d-
Abaddon Bell: The blasting heat of his energy was so blatant and hot that the tendrils that ran deep and silent always went unseen. There were few who could trace out the complicated workings he knitted with practiced precision. A needle and thread designing something beautiful. Glances from the crowd, jeers from his mates, and he probably had young hands braver by the brew he imbibed. Abaddon played in the side-room and set his little web for whatever thing she decided to bring. A few extra tables stacked up on top of each other and rows of extra chairs. It was a room that could have been used for a small banquet, but was utilized as storage at the moment. A couple of empty kegs lined up against a far wall. He tucked himself up and a corner, shirtless and in ebony trousers. Barefoot. Whenever she would come in there would already be a chalky circle painted on the floor and candles flickering with a breeze that shouldn't have been present. He arose from where he had been sitting, corner of the room and he spoke aloud. "He can't see me right now." Once they joined that is. 'Or hear me. So don't look at me too much." Grinning he stepped around the exterior of the drawing on the ground. "He might think everything is a little weird, so make sure he doesn't focus on that. I'm sure you can keep him focused." And as he said it the boy was drifting attention and making faces at the funny shit painted on the ground and the weird smell of apples that was heavy in the air. He would feel the unease, dark magic had a way of scaring worms before the hook sunk too deep. <done>
Alice Donovan: Walking into the darkness that clung to that room pushed a feeling of comfort through Alice's bones, and a delighted laugh rippled off her tongue before she might stop it. Peeling away from the boy, but keeping his hand caught within hers, she twirled deeper into the room and tugged him with it. "How pretty, don't you think?," she asked him over the curve of her shoulder with a siren's smile. Don's voice coated along her skin, and she murmured in response and dropped the boys hand once she had him on the edge of the circle. Alice stayed close, but swayed herself in Don's direction some. Already sliding out of the jacket that had really only been worn to hide the rope burns around her slender wrists. It was tossed somewhere out of the way. But she didn't stay away from the boy long. With a trail of fingertips seemingly in the air, but Don would feel them pass along his ink laved chest, she came wandering back. Keep him focused on something else, she'd been instructed, and she had a feeling the boy who'd imbibed a little already wouldn't want to hear Alice's dissertation on the blending of potions. Instead, she nuzzled herself back up against him, making little coos and trills within her voice. "We should play a game. Would you like to play a game? Hide and seek? Tag? Do you want to chase me? I'll take my clothes off." A litany of questions, fired off in a breathy hush against his clean shaven jawline. -d-
Don: He caught her wrist when it trickled in the air, drawing his mouth to her fingertips and sucking on a tip before letting it go and speaking again. "This sigil on the ground is simple. It traps the essence of the moment, purifies the energy and makes it lasting. Otherwise it's so fleeting." The boy pawed at her ass and tit when she came back close again, hands pulling at her clothes once she said she was willing to take them off. Abaddon drifted across the floor, almost floating, while the boy grabbed at her and kissed at her neck and jaw. While the boy's lips were enthusiastic in hungry, his was careful and soft at the shell of her ear. The rose painted hands on each ass cheek and the other lad's hands feeding up her chest. He whispered into her are tongue, nipping at her skin with each tender syllable. "Get him to come, however you like, but don't let him fill you with it, or make sure you spit it all out. It's poison. It's death. Don't give him anything more than what he's worth. What he has to offer..." He switched ears and let mouth nudged at the lobe of her ear. "...before you drown him in your water." Don's hands on her ass sifted off while teeth nibble at the opposite side of her neck that the boy was moving off of to begin unbuckling his pants. <done>
... And then some poor kid totally died, so Alice could get all his energy and turn him into a thing much resembling the Crypt Keeper. Without even drowning him, boo.
TW: Adult content. Slightly NSFW. Bad words. Violence.
Summary: Since Alice accepted his druggy gum, Abaddon has been teaching her how to explore the darker parts of her afflictions, both mentally and magically. Here, we watch as the blonde female stalks and lures her prey, and the dark male coaches and generally distracts with being too damn sexy.
Alice Donovan: Drip. Drip. Drip. It'd been going for hours, or what felt like it. Taunting her. The plop of water hitting somewhere from which Alice could not find, to a place she couldn't detect either. Every room within the building Argosy and the Donovan witches lived, she heard it. Drip drip dripping. What had happened next couldn't entirely be her fault, right? The way she'd tossed her bedroom. Throwing things left and right trying to find the source of the water that tormented her. She'd done the same in Ophelia's room, ignoring her sister's pleas for her to stop, but as the blonde ranted and raged and screamed for quiet .. it had been her grandfather who'd given it. Chanting softly spoken words that had collapsed the young witch in the hallway on the way to destroy another room in the house. Out cold, with no way to block the spell that he cast around her. When she woke up, it was already dark, but blessedly quiet. She was in her bed, still fully clothed and in a position that said she'd just been dumped there, most likely by the strength of her sister. The bruising that claimed her face felt like fire, throbbing from the state of her injuries and when she gingerly touched at it, she felt the dried streaks of tears she hadn't even realized had been there. A stiff shift sat her up, and seeing the state of things, it was painfully clear she didn't want to be here. It was nothing to leave; creeping down the steps that lead from the apartments above to the store -- bypassing the stairs she knew creaked, and making sure to disable the bell above the shop's front door when she slipped through it. Given this was London, the streets weren't as quiet as her home was, but she welcomed the noise. Welcomed the adventure they might bring. Heading into the heart of things, where activity buzzed and university students went to get the most drunk, the clunky heels of her boots thudded behind her. It was a split decision to use the calling card she'd discovered just the night previous, with the threat of rape and stabbings hanging over her dumb head, and so as she walked she opened up the line, a little cautiously at first. Doonnnnn. Hey Don. Oh Dooooooon. Raspy vocals a sing song in her head. Hands shoved into the pockets of the small leather jacket she wore, paired with the low cut of a top that bled into skinnies tucked into those trendy ankle boots. All black, Johnny Cash style -- save the brilliance of purples and blues that decorated her face. I'm going to go find something to chew on, if you'd like to join, the Alice in her head offered. -d-
Abaddon Bell: A babe in the woods picking up skills as she went deeper in the forest. She fumbled for things she was starting to comprehend, but unable to make a firm connection, or direct. It may have been the lack of emotional distress or maybe another err, but really it was Abaddon merely not pulling back at the flow of energy he felt. The subtle tug on his consciousness and the salt-water that filled his nose, her words in his head. Her response was silence, a void of him. Nothing. Thirty minutes turned to fifty seven when finally her patience was rewarded with the scent of apples. The smell was followed by an assault from behind, apparently sneaking in through fire exits or ajar windows. She'd feel the spidery climb of fingers along hip and coming beneath the hold of leather coat and groin pressed into ample ass. The simmering warmth he always conveyed was there, but even more so against her ass as he already was stirring from the feel of her body melding to his. Whether it was from the nights they spent pressing against each other or naturally structured this way, it was obvious the monster was built to fit against the water-witch. Blonde hair was scooped by fingers that crept over her shoulder, pulling the length back behind her. Even when she was hiding in the darkness of alleys he was there right behind her, even further in the black. The monster found it hard to keep his hands from touching things he felt were in his possession, it was probably why fingers dove down the front of her skinny jeans. It was a tight squeeze too. He grunted and ripped hand down the front of her, fingers clutching at the folds and sliding middle finger into her, to feel her heat. "Mm, now I feel at home." He mumbled at her ear while peering over her head at the room, a few glances went there way. Obviously a few patrons even seeing exactly what happened, it was easy to see. Their eyes would lift. Their eyes would lower. Their eyes would widen. And head would turn. Only one or two people actually had the opportunity to peruse Alice being consumed by the man in the black coat behind her. "What are you doing here?" <done>
Alice Clare Donovan: Bugger all. It didn't work. The night previous, she'd thought a few words, and poof there he was. Almost literally poof, as he'd arrived on in a mist of smoke. Well then. Looks as if she were flying solo, and maybe that was for the better. The aftermath of a breakdown could sometimes be a terrible thing. She was a flight risk, but maybe always had been. The first pub she came upon spilled with uni students, and Alice shoved herself inside -- mindless of the shoulders she crashed into, or the stylish shoes beneath her steps. The pounding in her temple had moved it's way to the back of her neck, and when she squeezed herself into a spot at the crowded bar, she made the split decision that nothing short of tequila would rid her of this pain. This horrible terrible pain. Two shots, she ordered, whatever was going to go down roughest. It was bottom shelf shit, and burned when she swallowed each down one right after the other. But she wasn't going to waste time just standing there at the bar, not when there were so many people there. Crowds were a fifty fifty hit or miss for her. Sometimes she did rather well in them. Sometimes they overwhelmed her, but so far she seemed to be doing fine. By the the time Don arrived fifty seven minutes later, she was doing .. even better, with the help of another pair of burning shots, and a bite. Chew on something turned out be in the most literal sense. But rather, she might've said someone. When the beast bellied up behind her, fitting his familiar warmth against her back, and the even more familiar feel of something far too solid against her rump, Alice was in the midst of getting her teeth in the neck of some sweet young co-ed. An art student, she'd told Alice, with a short crop of fiery curls and a bevy of freckles like a galaxy on her young face. Her bee-stung mouth was already a bit swollen, a testament that Alice had been there too. It was this young thing, we didn't even know her name, that felt any alarm at the sudden presence of another -- because Alice wasn't alarmed at all. There was no one else it could have been but the monster that crept in her bed -- or rather, any convenient surface, as they barely made it into a bed. Tilting her head so he might take what he wanted, seeing as he'd scooped all that spun gold away, her tongue slithered up the side of the redhead's neck. "Company's come," she whispered against her ear, the words breaking with a soft gasp when masculine hand shoved it's way down the front of her pants. Sorry, Don -- some people were afraid of the dark. Because the tiny thing took one look of him all tucked in the shadows and taking liberties, and with a yelp she struggled to get her own hand out of Alice's bra, and took off into the crowd; where few had begun to notice the goings on. Leaning into all that apple fresh heat, her head tilted back along his shoulder and bared her teeth at him. "You've scared her off, like a poor little kitten with a loud noise. Look at the way she scampers for safety." Sorry bout the wrist there, but Alice was twisting herself around, and sliding her arms up and around his neck, so she could smear her mouth against his lower lip. A thing made so much easier by the added height that her boots offered. Go boots. -d-
Abaddon Bell: Grin in place and the gators of his eyes chased after the redhead that sparked off and away from where the fire that he had joined. He didn't look disappointed or shocked to see her bounding off, the monster's mask tipped to her. Fingers danced and his arm bent, grinding harshly against her body and becoming an awkward shove that did send pain lancing up in his arm, but he only stuck his tongue through a bite of teeth. Face scrunching just a little when she drew her lips to his, tongue sprang free and he drew sustenance from her mouth. A hand that smelled of her and warm left her vacant and empty again, pleasure in the absence of pain softening his grimace while he took her by the cheek and cradled her chin. He lingered and chewed on her like the apple she was, plucked from the tree. Rotten, but still so sweet. Tongue cradled her own and sinister face tilted back, to revel in her glory. "I don't chase the ones that run away, but sometimes they come back." He said carefully, but was that truth? Alice had run initially, right? She had come to his door, tasted him and ran for the light. She had said she'd be back to the dark, but he found her before she had the chance to make that promise. Sometimes he saw things in others. Things he wanted. He treasured her in his touch that was so careful on her face, while tongue tapped at his own tooth. "You must be feeling better." The wolf's head tilted a little and let eyes linger down the lithesome thing and the garments she chose this night. A grin that said nothing returning to deliver nip to the swell of bottom petal, broken scab made fresh and red that was tasted in the murmur of the bar. "Mm, how long would it take for you to catch us another?" <done>
Alice Donvoan: Such a pout planted itself within her expression when he removed his hand, even having seen the discomfort that rode his own features at the way her movement had twisted him about in there and made it so weird. She ignored his pain for more favorable things, like stealing the taste off his tongue with her own, until he began chewing on hers and Alice squirmed against him. Pressing herself as close as close could be, she figured if she gave a little push they could be lost in the dark shadows of the room and no one would be the wiser. But she didn't make the move, keeping herself in the dim light that shone just above, staying in that illuminated halo so it looked a bit as if she were being felt up by the shadows themselves. And how accurate that might be. His words had her sparing a glance over the curve of her shoulder, but rather than the redhead, she locked eyes with one of the onlookers; one that just so happened to prudent and disgusted by such behavior. Alice blew a little kiss before her attention returned to the wolf who'd thrown off the sheep's clothing so long ago. "Don't you?," she all but purred, guiding the allure in her voice to something akin to seduction. It was all so new to her though, so forgive her if she sounded a bit off with it. He'd found her more than once, she remembered, and that rhetorical question said as much. A slash of dark brow rose when he inquired after her well being. "Not at all. I think that dead fuck rattled something lose in my head. Or my water is turning against me." Details? Maybe if he pried, but she was too busy now with how he was tearing open her lip again to take a proper taste of the witch within his dangerous clutches. The question spoken against the taste of blood on her lips detached a soft murr of a laugh. "I wanted that one. She looked a bit rather like a strawberry, just ripe for plucking. Shouldn't I be feeling guilty?" The question sprang from nowhere, and what it's subject content could be was up for grabs. Pawing all over sweet girls in the dark, when it'd been made so clear her sweet treats belonged to another. Hacking away the life of a creep on a basement floor. You decide. -d-
Abaddon Bell: He pinched her chin then and there, and there was a starkness in the air. The warm buzz of his energy going chill and dead, it was nothing. The grin drifted away only briefly and it was a blistering winter in the absence of the things he always permeated. Green eyes didn't even burn, but looked pale in the dark. Voice frigid and crisp, a truth laid out in a piece of what he was. "I drowned my brother when I was a young boy, never feel guilty for anything you do. Or you always will feel guilty for everything you do. There is no shame you could wear that I wouldn't suck from you skin." The grin creeping back and the heat flooded back over and his mouth hot against hers, teeth chewing at her lip. Black inked fingers crept over her abdomen and up to feel one of those rounded soft breasts through her shirt, pressure applied and fingers sent to knead. "If you want to taste a strawberry, eat one." She'd feel fingers on her ass, on her thigh, up her hip. He gripped her through the clothes and nails dug through to her skin. He tilted his chin some to peer away from her briefly and into the crowds of people mingling, but he didn't have anything in particular he was looking for. Maybe the redhead, but who knew. Attention wavered and tendrils of brown hung over the handsome structure of bearded features. "I can watch you eat it, or we can eat it together if you want. Whatever you want. Always." He cooed, in the grin, and he sank poison in deeper in words of devotion. But words he had been saying since the day he met her. Always asking. What do you want? <done>
Alice Donvoan: The force of the way he caught her chin, the intensity of it, brought a still to Alice's restless movements. She barely felt the hurt of it, when his taut fingers gripped over the bruising from the gray man's fist, so caught up in the look in his eyes when he corrected her. For a moment, she couldn't take a breath -- not with the chill that came from him, frosting over the air between them rather than the sultry heat that usually passed. She only had a moment for a nod, but he'd see the truth in the blue of the eyes that stared into hers that she trusted him in that. There was no need to even reason with herself -- it'd been self defense, hadn't it? -- because what he spoke was just that. Guilt was a thing that didn't belong here. He took her mouth once more, tormenting her well abused lip, and Alice rose to her toes some just to get that much closer. Her hands slid down, finding the lapels of his coat to grip there and keep him right where she wanted; while the scorch of his touch found her again. She craved that heat, a girl who loved so much the cold. Squirmed into it and let her body beg for more of it. "She didn't taste like one though," Alice muttered. "I would probably have to mash her into jam just to get the sweetness." A pity, she decided, while walking fingers up his chest like a spider might to get them into the power of that beard. Amusement played in the lift of his brows with his suggestion. "It'd have to be just the right one. That wasn't the right one. We'll find us one, maybe one still hanging from the vine, so we can pick her off with our teeth." Chomped hers at him, and before he knew it, Alice was dancing back some steps to void him of her charm. "I want you to teach me something. Anything. Anything at all." -d-
Abaddon Bell: The little thing was turning into a monster in the dark, unraveling from chrysalis to spread her colorful wings and put her poison in the air. He would never let her get too far. He was pulled and he came. She tasted and he bit. Fingertip finding themselves empty of her curves when she began her little wander. She was becoming sharper and harsher, something fierce, but she moved unfrightened. Her words summoned forth and he already chose that he would teach her "anything", a thing now and a lesson later. He would be cruel in his games. Already plotting pieces in his mind and putting weaves in the air, he grinned a little deeper and dipped his head down to cover his face in tendrils of chocolate. Arms shifted and rippled the black overcoat sloughing off his shoulders to reveal the black button-up dress shirt beneath, a red flower tucked in his pocket. He regarded the little birdie Alice again with a steady eye, and tongue peeking once more. She was addicted to the death, no doubt. There was so much power in it, and those who had their fingers in the well could find themselves swept away. He would this for her. "Find someone out there you want to have all of, bring them back, and I'll teach you a lesson that you will never forget." He let his tongue linger at the air before jacket was folded over his arm and he tilted himself towards the doorway of that empty sideroom. Shoulder hitting edge of the door, tilting it just so, greens on the girl to see if this was a road she wanted to take. To see if the high she was after was worth the price of snuffing a soul out forever. So much power in that. The fate of everything altered. Time itself manipulated and a whole new world forged by one simple act. <done>
Alice Donovan: The truth of the matter stood. He'd offered to be her private dancer -- er no, Alice, tutor -- but so far the lessons given were on the matter of their ever growing ardor. Were they matters of the heart? Hints and glimpses, but mostly he was opening her world to a better half, where pleasure reigned along side power and fear had no place in the kingdom. Perhaps it was best to start mingling in the two things he offered. She always did like learning, and there was far too much for him to teach her that had little to do with his dick. As long as that too wasn't kept away, Alice was certain things would continue on smoothly. His suggestion of what they'd need for this lesson rose up Alice's brow. But she simply tapped the side of her nose knowingly at him, and turned on her heel; leaving him with the sight of the left to right swing of rounded rump in tight black before she was nothing more than a golden halo in the crowd. It hadn't yet crossed though her mind that whoever she brought along to play was going to be made to suffer. But magic demanded sacrifice, a thing she had long since been taught. That sacrifice could be many a thing, but it was almost always done in blood. She wasn't long. Sliding back into the room in, with company in tow. A murmur of words spoken for another's ear alone, but Abaddon's wouldn't miss their affection. She made empty promises to the lad she tugged along, using the newfound wiles of her body to urge him with her. She was wrapped around him, and he was younger than she. Which had made the mark too easy, perhaps. We'll see. -d-
Abaddon Bell: The blasting heat of his energy was so blatant and hot that the tendrils that ran deep and silent always went unseen. There were few who could trace out the complicated workings he knitted with practiced precision. A needle and thread designing something beautiful. Glances from the crowd, jeers from his mates, and he probably had young hands braver by the brew he imbibed. Abaddon played in the side-room and set his little web for whatever thing she decided to bring. A few extra tables stacked up on top of each other and rows of extra chairs. It was a room that could have been used for a small banquet, but was utilized as storage at the moment. A couple of empty kegs lined up against a far wall. He tucked himself up and a corner, shirtless and in ebony trousers. Barefoot. Whenever she would come in there would already be a chalky circle painted on the floor and candles flickering with a breeze that shouldn't have been present. He arose from where he had been sitting, corner of the room and he spoke aloud. "He can't see me right now." Once they joined that is. 'Or hear me. So don't look at me too much." Grinning he stepped around the exterior of the drawing on the ground. "He might think everything is a little weird, so make sure he doesn't focus on that. I'm sure you can keep him focused." And as he said it the boy was drifting attention and making faces at the funny shit painted on the ground and the weird smell of apples that was heavy in the air. He would feel the unease, dark magic had a way of scaring worms before the hook sunk too deep. <done>
Alice Donovan: Walking into the darkness that clung to that room pushed a feeling of comfort through Alice's bones, and a delighted laugh rippled off her tongue before she might stop it. Peeling away from the boy, but keeping his hand caught within hers, she twirled deeper into the room and tugged him with it. "How pretty, don't you think?," she asked him over the curve of her shoulder with a siren's smile. Don's voice coated along her skin, and she murmured in response and dropped the boys hand once she had him on the edge of the circle. Alice stayed close, but swayed herself in Don's direction some. Already sliding out of the jacket that had really only been worn to hide the rope burns around her slender wrists. It was tossed somewhere out of the way. But she didn't stay away from the boy long. With a trail of fingertips seemingly in the air, but Don would feel them pass along his ink laved chest, she came wandering back. Keep him focused on something else, she'd been instructed, and she had a feeling the boy who'd imbibed a little already wouldn't want to hear Alice's dissertation on the blending of potions. Instead, she nuzzled herself back up against him, making little coos and trills within her voice. "We should play a game. Would you like to play a game? Hide and seek? Tag? Do you want to chase me? I'll take my clothes off." A litany of questions, fired off in a breathy hush against his clean shaven jawline. -d-
Don: He caught her wrist when it trickled in the air, drawing his mouth to her fingertips and sucking on a tip before letting it go and speaking again. "This sigil on the ground is simple. It traps the essence of the moment, purifies the energy and makes it lasting. Otherwise it's so fleeting." The boy pawed at her ass and tit when she came back close again, hands pulling at her clothes once she said she was willing to take them off. Abaddon drifted across the floor, almost floating, while the boy grabbed at her and kissed at her neck and jaw. While the boy's lips were enthusiastic in hungry, his was careful and soft at the shell of her ear. The rose painted hands on each ass cheek and the other lad's hands feeding up her chest. He whispered into her are tongue, nipping at her skin with each tender syllable. "Get him to come, however you like, but don't let him fill you with it, or make sure you spit it all out. It's poison. It's death. Don't give him anything more than what he's worth. What he has to offer..." He switched ears and let mouth nudged at the lobe of her ear. "...before you drown him in your water." Don's hands on her ass sifted off while teeth nibble at the opposite side of her neck that the boy was moving off of to begin unbuckling his pants. <done>
... And then some poor kid totally died, so Alice could get all his energy and turn him into a thing much resembling the Crypt Keeper. Without even drowning him, boo.