Post by JR on Oct 25, 2015 1:43:09 GMT -8
Characters: Alice and Abaddon
Summary: Don captures a witch off the streets, leaving her where Alice can easily find with the explicit instructions that she can touch, but not kill. Alice touches, then lies about it, and must be taught a lesson for her lies, while also learning the bloodline of the witch was not who she expected.
Triggers: Kidnapping, violence, stealing kids birthday cakes, mild sexual content.
Summary: Don captures a witch off the streets, leaving her where Alice can easily find with the explicit instructions that she can touch, but not kill. Alice touches, then lies about it, and must be taught a lesson for her lies, while also learning the bloodline of the witch was not who she expected.
Triggers: Kidnapping, violence, stealing kids birthday cakes, mild sexual content.
Alice Clare: Alice was having a party! Or so it might seem. From the noise, it sounded like there was a house full of people, even though none of the windows seemed to be lit up with glowing light from the inside out. There was music, there was the occasional shout, that sort of thing heard from the outside of the house. Inside, it was even louder, and far brighter too. No, light hadn't been seen from the outside, but that was all just magic. The place was lit up like the sun, and Alice had even decorated for a party too! Streamers of hot pink and neon green created little waterfalls through every open doorway, and the floor was littered with confetti. There were balloons, so many balloons that the still empty living room was full of them in a rainbow of colors. They really should furnish this place, you know. Bobcats were running wild, a pair of them wrestling in the hall, one prowling the kitchen counter and chewing on the side of a cake that sat there. That too was decorated, though there was nothing written on it, Scratch that, there was writing. Along with a screen printed racecar on the white butter cream frosting, the words "Happy 4th Birthday Mikey" could still be seen around where the big kitten was licking and chewing on the chocolate spongy cake inside. There were other snacks, some spilled to the floor by now, and a giant pitcher of margaritas, and a few glasses set near it. It was only half a pitcher though. Most of the noise was coming from upstairs, and that's where Alice would be found. She was dressed for the party too! The dress she wore was just as boldly pink as the streamers that she'd coiled along the banister of the stairs to lead their way up. Second skin tight about her curves, the strapless thing was short as can be. There were strappy silver heels boosting up her height, and she'd added dangly sparkly things at her ears and about her neck to lay against and abundance of cleavage that a very good fucking push up bra provided. She'd taken great care with her makeup, a smoldering allure given to the eyes and a light pink at the lips, and just as much care in making normally straight hair an artful display of wild curls. Topped with a plastic silver tiara, with the same pink gems and a big of pink fluffy stuff about it too. One hand held her margarita glass, and she was singing along to the song that was playing. "On se dit qu' a vingt ans on est le roi du monde, Et qu'? ternellement il y aura dans nos yeux Tout le ciel bleu." www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIFgVLv9340 In her other hand? Why, that was the fun thing. See, Alice was in the room where she'd been given the touch, but not kill order. Had been for awhile now, blasting French songs, drinking margies, feeding the Brama bits of shaved skin, watching the two bobcats that were up here too play, and making kissy faces at Frank who sat in the corner and sulked and watched .. and all the while she'd touched. With a meat tenderizer! She really hoped that Abaddon didn't need to use this girls foot! Cause Alice had smashed it all up! The poor thing was a mangled mess, exposed toe bones and ligaments and so much blood littering the floor. All those candles he'd lit, too? They were still going, the tallow hardly melting at all by a magic wave of her hand. Also, there on the wall of the room? She'd hung a sign. One of those banners, with letters strung together? H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y. Though Alice had taken a sharpie, crossed out B-I-R and wrote over it, so the thing spelled out Happy Deathday instead. So clever. -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon arrived by a cabbie that dropped him off on the nearest paved road before taking a walk along the gravel one that lead through the wood to their dark house. The outside showed no signs of the celebrations occurring inside, but the palpations of energy throbbed, he could feel her magic cloaking the lights in shadow. The man's attire made him look like he should have been working in funeral home selling coffins, a powder-blue suit with matching bow-tie and ruffled white in the vet section of parted suit. Pair of spectacles sat on his grinning face while he sent sensory threads out to engage the house as he approached, giving him a good idea of the scene unfolding inside. Oh, dear. Grin stretched a little wider as it broke through beard, tilting black spell laced joint to his mouth and igniting it with a flick of magic. Cinders bit on leaf and drug alike, gray sucked in and spewed back out while he crossed over porch and made his way inside. Shiny shoes gleamed with a fresh polish, matching the hue of his attire but in a darker shade. He could smell suffering in the air. Bobcats continued to wrestle despite his presence, gnawing on each other's necks and pawing at one another. Attention was hardly spared on them, ratcheting it up those steps that he journeyed up with intrepid stride. The floorboards creaked beneath the blaring of music that came from the room they were all inside. He rapped knuckles along the frame before tilting head around the edge of door, to peer into the room with vibrant greens. Brown hair flopped off to the side and wavered there, physique making move to fill the gap of empty portal and peruse everything that was happening. "There was a party and I didn't get an invitation? I am filled with sadness at the thought..." He said with feigned melancholy and an expression that hade eyebrows frowning with the wild grin. Tattooed hands filled themselves up and took in the sight of the mutilated witch who was whimpering and bound still over in the corner, the bloody stump of foot given a cringing glance. Right hand curled at the air and the music quieted down, a single mercy that got a sigh of relief from Hank who immediately began to massage the bridge of his nose. "Alice... do you want to explain what this is..." He took so long to finally put his eyes on her because he knew once they reached her they wouldn't be much else. And that took effect immediately. Peering at the girl in her too-tight dress and tip of tongue dabbed at the back of his teeth. Dapper looking dragon taking a few more steps into the party room. <done>
Alice Clare: Ohhhhh, Abaddon Bell, you couldn't sneak up on this one. She had your taste on her tongue, your blood in her blood, and your magic in hers. She knew the very moment he'd stepped onto the property, and her heart had been nothing but a fast anticipating pace since then. A lick was given to the side of her glass to gather some of the salt on her tongue before she took a healthy gulp out of the festive green stemmed and wide brimmed drink. It was cold and refreshing and Alice sighed out with the pleasure of it, while dancing hips took her over to the witch she hadn't been paying a lick of attention to in at least ten minutes. The female was slumped over some, her chin close to her chest, but she stirred a little out of fear and pain when Alice leaned down to whisper above the sound of Francoise crooning. "Daddy's home," she laughed, and spun away; careening hips taking her towards Frank. She tossed him the mallet in her hand a good four seconds before Don showed up in the door -- he'd just find her dancing in time with the music, the Brama nipping at her heels without drawing any blood. He just liked the way her silvery shoes caught the light. The music came down, and Alice whirled in an array of curls and gave a little squeal. "There you are! No no, don't be sad," her pout matched his eyebrows -- since his mouth was still grinning, and Alice skip-ran the few feet to close the distance between them. Sliding her now free hand up his chest, giggling at the ruffles on his shirt as her fingers came in contact with. "I like this. And you don't need an invitations, pssh. My party is your party, because my life is your life." Widened ingenue blues stared up at him, fixating wholly on the serpentine green of his own, not even blinking as she lied now straight through those pretty even teeth of hers. "Frank did it." Ohhh look at her pout now. "I walked in here, and her foot was just like that, and there was Franny, on his hands and knees, holding that thing about to smash her again. But I stopped him." The hero! "And put him in the corner." -d-
Abaddon: Green scaled eyes flicked to her when she came striding towards him and extended hand. He didn't waver a bit, but unclenched hands to put one on her hip the other lifting fingers pinch at his own chin and scratch through the brambles of his thick beard. Her story enticed eyebrows to rise to the heavens, and voice poked out, "Oh." He nodded of course when she accused Frank of the demolishing of bone and meat into the pulp that was there instead of a foot, meat and blood hammered into the floorboards. "You wouldn't be lying to me now, would you?" He grinned while he asked, fingers folding across her hip and digging tips in through dress to curl into plush ass. Hand continued creeping until reaching the bottom of her bottom, stretching palm entirely across rounded cheek. Other hand dipping from his beard to poke her on the tip of nose and hang his finger out along her lower lip. He could hear the Brama chortling while it scampered after her feet, addicted to her magic feet (and her magic in general). "No, of course you wouldn't. Heroes never lie. I don't even know what possessed me to say such a thing... Frank, bad. Now make your foot look like hers..." It wasn't even his foot anymore. The Brama had devoured his old foot after Alice sic'd it on him and then got distracted by Abaddon pushing her down on those steps outside of her gypsy hut! "...She's not dead is she." The questioned was emphasized by the loud dull sound and tongueless groan made by Frank when he smashed down on his own with the mallet. Most likely undergoing the punishment for a crime he didn't even commit. <done>
Alice Clare: "Lying?!" Alice gasped out the word, and reached over to set her margarita down on the table with the single candle, while his touch wandered at that plump rump of hers and took full possession of it. She pressed a hand to her chest a little, like she was offended that he would even ask that question -- but before she could say anything else about it, he was correcting himself, and Alice made that too-blue stare go a little watery, go depthless. Trusting eyes. Nudging her hips to his some, Alice swayed as the lowered music turned into something slower by the same artist. "Yeah, Frank," she echoed without bothering to look back to the Golem, but ohhh there was sick satisfaction in that expression when she heard the bumpy mallet go slamming into his borrowed foot. She wasn't going to look. Nope. She was just gonna keep staring up into Abaddon's dreamy stare, but ohhhhh oh she had to look! Spun herself right in his hold, so that it was the front he'd get a good grip on instead of ass; the sweetness of that finding a spot against his pastel groin. "Make him do it again," she breathed, like she was seeing the most beautiful thing in the world -- except he went and distracted her, asking if his kidnapping victim was still alive. An exasperated sigh, and Alice tilted her tiara topped head back so it rested on his shoulder. "Of course she's alive, baby. You said I couldn't kill her. I .. Frank just did that to her foot, and she passed out a little. I just checked on her though! And she made some little noises. Dead girls make no noises. Who is she? Where'd you get her? Whatever could you need her for?" -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon was absolutely smitten with Alice. The crackle of stormy aura. The softness of skin. He would have been lying if he said he expected to find the girl unscathed and untouched by his mad siren. Ass turned, and he would wait no more. Tattooed fingers snapping up under the cut of dress and up to pinch at the lovely shape of her. Crumpling clutch was made, pressing against the delicate smooth flesh and worming middle finger between before hooking and submerging into the center. The touch of ass pressing to his groin receiving the immediate reaction of blood pumping. He pushed with his hand on her, and leaned with his hips, grinding trouser clad arousal against her bottom. It was on her command that time. The trembling Hank lifting hammer and crying out loud again as he came down with a thunderous clatter. Grisly sight indeed, but Abaddon paid it no mind. The scratch of chocolate spaghetti beard digging into crook of her neck when tiara came to his shoulder. The dragon's jaw dipping low, widening his toothy maw as far as it could reach and lowering deadly pearls onto soft lush skin. He dragged the edges down, stretching down the delicate skin till he could pinch a bit of it in a soft nip. The assailed flesh released and bathed with the fat wide spread of tongue. Hand plucked itself in a sharp quick manner and rose, peeling up the garment up on her skin, rolling it up thighs. "Oh, we have more things to do, you and I. Not for some time still, but it's always nice to have guests too." He whispered response against the flesh of her neck left glossy. "Oh, I found her in London. I have my ways. I know where quite the number of witches take refuge. Quite a number." He mumbled it again, not even really thinking about the words that he spoke, but of how sweet her peachy skin tasted. He buried his nose beneath her ear, beard gnawing at the nape of her neck, and took her scent with a sharp inhale. Body fiercely pressing and nuzzling against hers while another sickening slap of the hammer was made. Be careful Frank, don't want Hank to get a whiff of all that golem meat. <done>
Alice Clare: Such a short skirt, he barely had to reach to get up underneath it. He found her, hot and warm and on her way to wet. "Do you feel that?," she purred up at him with a turn of her head to give him the best access to the flesh, and that pert ass rolled it's way back along the burgeoning flesh that was beginning to swell. "I haven't any knickers on." He pinched with his fingers, and he pinched with his mouth and Alice Clare melted. "You feel so good," she whispered out into the air in front of her, and blue stare drifted from the Golem and his mangled foot, to the witch and hers. Though the woman's head was still down, Alice could see her eyes were open. Could see she was trembling. Such a smile grew across that face of hers, and she swayed all up on him while he pulled her dress up and up and up; exposing the sweetness of her to their company. He was right. It was nice having others in the house. She almost missed what he said. Distracted from the actual words by the revelations of his voice, by what he was doing. He pressed and nuzzled, and then his words sank in. "Abaddon," Alice froze with the drop of his name; a living breathing pulsating doll in his arms. "Where did you find her?" This was going to be one of those things where she should just leave it alone, wasn't it? But that wasn't the way of Alice Clare. In fact, she peeled away from his touch; dress all up on her rump so the bottom swells were on display for the man behind her, and strutted over to his captive. A hand went into her hair, and she jerked the woman's head back -- making her cry out sharply. "What's your name?" Blue eyes searched the battered face, trying to find some semblance of the familiar behind the swelling, behind the discoloration. -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon had been a bit cruel in his apprehension of the girl, more than he needed, but it was all in good fun. When he snuck up on her and threatened a mugging she thought she was so cute when she flicked her magic. And he punched her in the face. Square. It left her disoriented and he snipped away the cords of her power, stripping her of access in a singular wave of his own dark-magic. The bound witch was an ant in comparison to the dragon, and that's when she had truly been frightened and he continued the physical thrashing. It left the face a little distorted and puffy still. He trailed behind Alice's movements when she broke away from him, a clearing of his throat made and damp fingers were wiped along his thigh. Lettered fingers lifted up and plucked at the wings of bow-tie, baby-blue thing unraveled while he spoke. "Oh, I don't recall exactly. It was all on such a whim." Could the witch have been someone she knew? More than likely it was, and that there was nothing accidental about it at all. Or it could have been even some blood-thinned relative four, five, six steps away that didn't even know that there was magic in their blood. Abaddon had come across a stranger and something inside of him had been piqued, a decision made without rehearsing it in his minds-eye. Bow tie was dropped and then the outer-layer of suitcoat was bent from shoulders and allowed to fall behind him. He then worked at the buttons of long-sleeved dress shirt with the ruffly middle, peeling the material down each forearm. The witch that she tried to get to speak was much alike to the Golem, when her mouth did open tongueless hole could only offer groans and more whimpers. <done>
Alice Clare: "A whim," her head turned back to him; watching a moment the way he approached, the way he tugged at his bow tie, shrugged from the cut of his jacket and began to roll up his sleeves. "You found a witch on the street, and on a whim, decided to bring her here. I didn't even know she was magic." Which was .. concerning. Noise was coming from the woman, and Alice reverted her attention back -- gasping softly when she noticed that the tongue in her mouth was gone. The hold within her hair was dropped as if she'd been burned, and Alice took a step back, bumping her body into the strength of his. He didn't wobble, but she did, which only made her press herself more into the steady way he stood. "You have to kill her," she whispered then, and half turned her face up to his; meeting his eyes beyond the fullness of his beard. "She could go back. Tell them. Even without a tongue, she could tell them. There's ways. They'll know, they'll know too soon that I'm with you. What did she say before you took it? What was her magic? Why can't I feel it?" Oh such worry creased at the center of her bold brows, and Alice completed the turn, so she faced him true. Soft hands pressed to his chest, sliding their way north slowly as she searched his eyes. There was worry there, yes, but also trust. Even though it all, she trusted him -- she just needed to know certain things. Not be in the dark. Step by step she'd followed him, often not asking a thing, but this? She had a sinking feeling in her belly that this would blow back at them in ways they weren't prepared for. After all, she'd just slit her damn wrists to keep hidden! -d-
Abaddon: The man's face made no change, only holding that grin steadily with greens focused on her as she spoke and then took a step away from the bound witch. Another bloody thumping of hammer and groans heard from Frank. Having hammered himself into a delirium that left him drooling and shaking, sweat beading on his brow as he breathed heavily over both mutilated feet. The words Alice spoke though seemed.. unlike her.. peculiar. Was it.. worry? She took a step back and wobbled, hitting his anchored position. Right hand snaked around her hip, sealed itself across her abdomen and returned the curve of that beloved rump to the press of his groin. The free hand lifted casually to pluck at the top button and feed them out of each loop in careful motion, speaking. "On a whim, yes. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Her magic is stifled. And she won't be leaving this place alive..." A crying moan came from the bound creature upon hearing his words, and he spoke again, this time with handsome face pointed at the girl. "Oh, come now, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure there is still a chance you make it through all this." He leaned further around Alice's head, peering at her and mouthed "She won't", and shook his head with a finger lifting to indicate "Shh". The dress shirt was then untucked, pulled from his waist. "If you must know, I think she's one of your second or third cousins, I don't know exactly, but if you see her aura there are some similarities. She will be perfect for when we have to kill you." He tilted away from her, sliding fingers off her abdomen, across hip, and then drifting across her ass as he took a few steps towards Frank. Dress shirt was allowed to hang onto shoulders, but it barely covered any of him at all.. especially since those sleeves were rolled up too. He stuck arms beneath Frank's and lifted the groaning thing up and dragged him towards the door slowly. "Go on you big lug, go crawl yourself to the basement, we'll make you some new feet. And tell me, one groan for yes, two for no.. Did you actually smash the girl's feet?" He murmured this some, even though he knew the truth. How surprised would he be to hear two groans. "Very good." And then Don sent the larger broader, but shorter man face first down the steps. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Crash. Each shoe was kicked off and allowed to tumble down in follow. "Put my shoes by the front door too, on your way. Go on... ALICE!" He roared the name and turned sharply on his heel, prowling back to the party room and shirt swaying around him. "Alice, Frank said you lied." <done>
Alice Clare: Abaddon might not find himself surprised by certain information, but such was not the case for Alice Clare. Truthfully, it wasn't the bit about his false attempts at reassuring the female that she was going to make it out of this, or even the bit that she had Donovan blood swimming in her veins. No. No, he caught her fully off guard with that whole ``when we have to kill you`` part. His hands were roaming, a thing that always worked at distracting her, but she was already distracted up in her head space by words. Weird weird words. And also, by trying to see if she could detect any bit of that aura. Alice stayed perfectly still, until Don moved away, and then it was Alice's turn. Crept herself all the way up to the toes -- well, five of them at least -- of the captive witch, and leaned in. "Look at me," she whispered to the thing, and was delighted to find a pair of blue eyes lifting back up to hers. "Shhh, there you are. I see it now. In the eyes. I'll find pen, and paper. You can write your name for me," still whispering, while Don dragged Frank to the stairs. "I'm really quite good at maths, you know. Two and two will always go together to make four, and I fairly certain I've figured what four is in this case. Should I be sorry?" Her voice was a coo of it's cadence, and the softness of her touch came up to spill into blood matted hair, to brush it off the injured face. "I don't think I --" The roar of her name, surrounded by the thumping of a body hitting the stairs over and over had Alice shooting straight up, and whirling about -- looking a bit as if she'd just stuck her hand in the biscuits bin, in fact the touch to the woman's hair was wrenched quickly away and she wrung her fingers together a bit in front of her belly. A gasp, and Alice took a few steps to meet him, already pointing out of the room with her whole arm where Frank had been banished. "He can't say anything!" Slender right foot gave a little stomp; one that jiggled the display of her breasts within their tight hot pink bondage. "You can't possibly believe him over me, look, he even punished himself over it. Would an innocent man just accept that?" Ohhh look at those wide gorgeous eyes, flooded with a sociopath's lying ingenuity. The coolness of her touch, like that of the autumn sea, found his chest then; spreading fingers along the design inked there. "He really is the most awful Golem, baby." The thicket of heavily sooted lashes dropped down to fan black against the high set of angular cheekbones, and her mouth moued into a pout. "Maybe we should just let him die for good." -d-
Abaddon: Right eyebrow motioned upwards with the look that he gave her that never lost its mirth. The trembling stomp. The indignant response, the logic she presented. He couldn't even talk! An awful golem. Punished himself. She lodged herself in her position and wasn't going to be removed, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Head dipped and shadows ran across his face with the hang of brown lengths. "Mm, Alice, Alice, Alice... " He took a step towards her and extended his hand out, pointer finger lifting up and poking her in the chest, directly between those two plush mounds that were squeezed into pink garment. He let eyes sift down from those beautiful wide ocean blues. Predatory hunter greens fixated on the narrow of her throat and he pushed with his finger, pushed at her with enough of his arm and body beneath it to make her take a step back. "You know I wouldn't at all blame you if you had done it. I wouldn't say...." He tilted his face forward a little, tilting chin back so he faced her more appropriately. "Boo." Again he let his finger poke and push her back again, creeping up on her and pushing back into the party-room where that French music whispered and decorations hung all about. The moaning relative in the corner a very 'mundane' ornament in their shadowed world. "Mm, mm. But fibbing to me...." Tip of finger that poked and pushed pressed up, slid up a little till it reached the bottom of her chin, tilting her face so he could return gaze to those blues. "So... who smashed her foot?" Asked quietly with the edge of grin, the six-three frame closing in on her with another step. Not making any further mention of having to kill her, or about the 'distant-relative' they had as a prisoner. <done>
Alice Clare: The way her gaze was lowered afforded her the sight of his poking finger, there in the divot of her cleavage, but as she was forced that step back by the push of it, blues flew back up to his face. Fire sparked behind the mirage of innocence, and reflected too in the way her jaw grit just a little. He wasn't looking at her face though when she looked up, but rather at the spill of plump flesh and the way it rose above the tight pink bandage dress. His words hitched an audible breath in her throat, and Alice for just a moment, looked left and then right, as if there were someone somewhere that might help her. But nope. It was just him, and her, and the bound witch set to the off position in the corner. "I didn't fib!," burst out of her pretty mouth, and Alice stumbled back with the next poke; righting herself enough that when he poked again, she took an actual backward step -- feeling the table in the room hit her just below the ass and both of her hands flew down to press there, when Alice sat a little heavily on it's surface. The man that was hers claimed her chin and lifted her face, stealing the blue of her gaze for his own green pair, and Alice's features crumpled a little there about the chin and the nose. "Oh fine. It was me. I smashed her bloody damn foot, alright! You've caught me! Points to Abaddon. I smashed her stupid foot, because she bloody well wouldn't talk to me! No, no that's not true. Because I wanted to. I wanted to see the little bones, all tiny like little bird bones. I wanted to see what it looked like underneath all the skin, with the ligaments and joints. It's bloody well beautiful, too, lookit it!" One hand peeled from the grip on the table, and shot out to point at the mangled foot. "I'd've lopped the fucking thing off too!" Blues had gone feisty as can be, and were glared up at him now; the little lift of her chin not just from his hand, but from her own bold endeavors. -d-
Abaddon: He left the curl of his finger beneath her chin as she confessed to the sins. All of them. These lies and the sadistic. What began as a light gesture to tilt her face turned to a grip, thumb first sliding over the front of chin and then sliding thumb and pointer to either side of it. He clenched the chin a bit firmer than a kind man would have and let the brass voice respond to her again. "... lying to me, is bad. Even when you're playing." Everything dealing with him was a game or a bargain of some sort, and although he littered their world with tiny omissions and lies... she had never truly caught him by one. Or if she had, she didn't redeem the discovery in to get herself a prize. He on the other hand coveted punishment, enjoyed evening the score between them and he would do whatever it took to keep an edge. She moved onto the table and he slid his hand onto her thigh. Curling on her limb and he drug her back off so that tiny feet landed on the hardwood floor and she was nearly standing on the tips of his navy blue socks. Fingers unclenched chin to grab her by the hips and he spun her like a top, spinning her about once, and she would've probably kept going and twirled around the room had he not caught her and pushed hard. Her hips and abdomen smacking table's edge hard and his right hand pressed at the small of her back, smearing her into a bent position. He crashed his hips against her ass, hardened wedge firmly pressed into round ass and pinning her there and both of his hands fell like manacles upon either wrist. "Mmm, and for lying to me..." Vise of fingers clenched thin wrists, both arms bent back behind her as if she was under arrest. Limbs that lacked the same intensity and strength he possessed were twisted sharply and bound to the small of her back, and although she couldn't see it she'd feel the cold-ice of shadowsilk sliding around her wrists. Black threads twisting and turning to bind those limbs together. ".. you must be hurt. But for telling the truth..." The blunt heat pressed tight enough that it caused a growl to grind out from his chest. Hands simultaneously curled at the dress along her hips, prying materials and drawing it up. ".. you earned yourself a fuck still." <done>
Abaddon: Abaddon arrived by a cabbie that dropped him off on the nearest paved road before taking a walk along the gravel one that lead through the wood to their dark house. The outside showed no signs of the celebrations occurring inside, but the palpations of energy throbbed, he could feel her magic cloaking the lights in shadow. The man's attire made him look like he should have been working in funeral home selling coffins, a powder-blue suit with matching bow-tie and ruffled white in the vet section of parted suit. Pair of spectacles sat on his grinning face while he sent sensory threads out to engage the house as he approached, giving him a good idea of the scene unfolding inside. Oh, dear. Grin stretched a little wider as it broke through beard, tilting black spell laced joint to his mouth and igniting it with a flick of magic. Cinders bit on leaf and drug alike, gray sucked in and spewed back out while he crossed over porch and made his way inside. Shiny shoes gleamed with a fresh polish, matching the hue of his attire but in a darker shade. He could smell suffering in the air. Bobcats continued to wrestle despite his presence, gnawing on each other's necks and pawing at one another. Attention was hardly spared on them, ratcheting it up those steps that he journeyed up with intrepid stride. The floorboards creaked beneath the blaring of music that came from the room they were all inside. He rapped knuckles along the frame before tilting head around the edge of door, to peer into the room with vibrant greens. Brown hair flopped off to the side and wavered there, physique making move to fill the gap of empty portal and peruse everything that was happening. "There was a party and I didn't get an invitation? I am filled with sadness at the thought..." He said with feigned melancholy and an expression that hade eyebrows frowning with the wild grin. Tattooed hands filled themselves up and took in the sight of the mutilated witch who was whimpering and bound still over in the corner, the bloody stump of foot given a cringing glance. Right hand curled at the air and the music quieted down, a single mercy that got a sigh of relief from Hank who immediately began to massage the bridge of his nose. "Alice... do you want to explain what this is..." He took so long to finally put his eyes on her because he knew once they reached her they wouldn't be much else. And that took effect immediately. Peering at the girl in her too-tight dress and tip of tongue dabbed at the back of his teeth. Dapper looking dragon taking a few more steps into the party room. <done>
Alice Clare: Ohhhhh, Abaddon Bell, you couldn't sneak up on this one. She had your taste on her tongue, your blood in her blood, and your magic in hers. She knew the very moment he'd stepped onto the property, and her heart had been nothing but a fast anticipating pace since then. A lick was given to the side of her glass to gather some of the salt on her tongue before she took a healthy gulp out of the festive green stemmed and wide brimmed drink. It was cold and refreshing and Alice sighed out with the pleasure of it, while dancing hips took her over to the witch she hadn't been paying a lick of attention to in at least ten minutes. The female was slumped over some, her chin close to her chest, but she stirred a little out of fear and pain when Alice leaned down to whisper above the sound of Francoise crooning. "Daddy's home," she laughed, and spun away; careening hips taking her towards Frank. She tossed him the mallet in her hand a good four seconds before Don showed up in the door -- he'd just find her dancing in time with the music, the Brama nipping at her heels without drawing any blood. He just liked the way her silvery shoes caught the light. The music came down, and Alice whirled in an array of curls and gave a little squeal. "There you are! No no, don't be sad," her pout matched his eyebrows -- since his mouth was still grinning, and Alice skip-ran the few feet to close the distance between them. Sliding her now free hand up his chest, giggling at the ruffles on his shirt as her fingers came in contact with. "I like this. And you don't need an invitations, pssh. My party is your party, because my life is your life." Widened ingenue blues stared up at him, fixating wholly on the serpentine green of his own, not even blinking as she lied now straight through those pretty even teeth of hers. "Frank did it." Ohhh look at her pout now. "I walked in here, and her foot was just like that, and there was Franny, on his hands and knees, holding that thing about to smash her again. But I stopped him." The hero! "And put him in the corner." -d-
Abaddon: Green scaled eyes flicked to her when she came striding towards him and extended hand. He didn't waver a bit, but unclenched hands to put one on her hip the other lifting fingers pinch at his own chin and scratch through the brambles of his thick beard. Her story enticed eyebrows to rise to the heavens, and voice poked out, "Oh." He nodded of course when she accused Frank of the demolishing of bone and meat into the pulp that was there instead of a foot, meat and blood hammered into the floorboards. "You wouldn't be lying to me now, would you?" He grinned while he asked, fingers folding across her hip and digging tips in through dress to curl into plush ass. Hand continued creeping until reaching the bottom of her bottom, stretching palm entirely across rounded cheek. Other hand dipping from his beard to poke her on the tip of nose and hang his finger out along her lower lip. He could hear the Brama chortling while it scampered after her feet, addicted to her magic feet (and her magic in general). "No, of course you wouldn't. Heroes never lie. I don't even know what possessed me to say such a thing... Frank, bad. Now make your foot look like hers..." It wasn't even his foot anymore. The Brama had devoured his old foot after Alice sic'd it on him and then got distracted by Abaddon pushing her down on those steps outside of her gypsy hut! "...She's not dead is she." The questioned was emphasized by the loud dull sound and tongueless groan made by Frank when he smashed down on his own with the mallet. Most likely undergoing the punishment for a crime he didn't even commit. <done>
Alice Clare: "Lying?!" Alice gasped out the word, and reached over to set her margarita down on the table with the single candle, while his touch wandered at that plump rump of hers and took full possession of it. She pressed a hand to her chest a little, like she was offended that he would even ask that question -- but before she could say anything else about it, he was correcting himself, and Alice made that too-blue stare go a little watery, go depthless. Trusting eyes. Nudging her hips to his some, Alice swayed as the lowered music turned into something slower by the same artist. "Yeah, Frank," she echoed without bothering to look back to the Golem, but ohhh there was sick satisfaction in that expression when she heard the bumpy mallet go slamming into his borrowed foot. She wasn't going to look. Nope. She was just gonna keep staring up into Abaddon's dreamy stare, but ohhhhh oh she had to look! Spun herself right in his hold, so that it was the front he'd get a good grip on instead of ass; the sweetness of that finding a spot against his pastel groin. "Make him do it again," she breathed, like she was seeing the most beautiful thing in the world -- except he went and distracted her, asking if his kidnapping victim was still alive. An exasperated sigh, and Alice tilted her tiara topped head back so it rested on his shoulder. "Of course she's alive, baby. You said I couldn't kill her. I .. Frank just did that to her foot, and she passed out a little. I just checked on her though! And she made some little noises. Dead girls make no noises. Who is she? Where'd you get her? Whatever could you need her for?" -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon was absolutely smitten with Alice. The crackle of stormy aura. The softness of skin. He would have been lying if he said he expected to find the girl unscathed and untouched by his mad siren. Ass turned, and he would wait no more. Tattooed fingers snapping up under the cut of dress and up to pinch at the lovely shape of her. Crumpling clutch was made, pressing against the delicate smooth flesh and worming middle finger between before hooking and submerging into the center. The touch of ass pressing to his groin receiving the immediate reaction of blood pumping. He pushed with his hand on her, and leaned with his hips, grinding trouser clad arousal against her bottom. It was on her command that time. The trembling Hank lifting hammer and crying out loud again as he came down with a thunderous clatter. Grisly sight indeed, but Abaddon paid it no mind. The scratch of chocolate spaghetti beard digging into crook of her neck when tiara came to his shoulder. The dragon's jaw dipping low, widening his toothy maw as far as it could reach and lowering deadly pearls onto soft lush skin. He dragged the edges down, stretching down the delicate skin till he could pinch a bit of it in a soft nip. The assailed flesh released and bathed with the fat wide spread of tongue. Hand plucked itself in a sharp quick manner and rose, peeling up the garment up on her skin, rolling it up thighs. "Oh, we have more things to do, you and I. Not for some time still, but it's always nice to have guests too." He whispered response against the flesh of her neck left glossy. "Oh, I found her in London. I have my ways. I know where quite the number of witches take refuge. Quite a number." He mumbled it again, not even really thinking about the words that he spoke, but of how sweet her peachy skin tasted. He buried his nose beneath her ear, beard gnawing at the nape of her neck, and took her scent with a sharp inhale. Body fiercely pressing and nuzzling against hers while another sickening slap of the hammer was made. Be careful Frank, don't want Hank to get a whiff of all that golem meat. <done>
Alice Clare: Such a short skirt, he barely had to reach to get up underneath it. He found her, hot and warm and on her way to wet. "Do you feel that?," she purred up at him with a turn of her head to give him the best access to the flesh, and that pert ass rolled it's way back along the burgeoning flesh that was beginning to swell. "I haven't any knickers on." He pinched with his fingers, and he pinched with his mouth and Alice Clare melted. "You feel so good," she whispered out into the air in front of her, and blue stare drifted from the Golem and his mangled foot, to the witch and hers. Though the woman's head was still down, Alice could see her eyes were open. Could see she was trembling. Such a smile grew across that face of hers, and she swayed all up on him while he pulled her dress up and up and up; exposing the sweetness of her to their company. He was right. It was nice having others in the house. She almost missed what he said. Distracted from the actual words by the revelations of his voice, by what he was doing. He pressed and nuzzled, and then his words sank in. "Abaddon," Alice froze with the drop of his name; a living breathing pulsating doll in his arms. "Where did you find her?" This was going to be one of those things where she should just leave it alone, wasn't it? But that wasn't the way of Alice Clare. In fact, she peeled away from his touch; dress all up on her rump so the bottom swells were on display for the man behind her, and strutted over to his captive. A hand went into her hair, and she jerked the woman's head back -- making her cry out sharply. "What's your name?" Blue eyes searched the battered face, trying to find some semblance of the familiar behind the swelling, behind the discoloration. -d-
Abaddon: Abaddon had been a bit cruel in his apprehension of the girl, more than he needed, but it was all in good fun. When he snuck up on her and threatened a mugging she thought she was so cute when she flicked her magic. And he punched her in the face. Square. It left her disoriented and he snipped away the cords of her power, stripping her of access in a singular wave of his own dark-magic. The bound witch was an ant in comparison to the dragon, and that's when she had truly been frightened and he continued the physical thrashing. It left the face a little distorted and puffy still. He trailed behind Alice's movements when she broke away from him, a clearing of his throat made and damp fingers were wiped along his thigh. Lettered fingers lifted up and plucked at the wings of bow-tie, baby-blue thing unraveled while he spoke. "Oh, I don't recall exactly. It was all on such a whim." Could the witch have been someone she knew? More than likely it was, and that there was nothing accidental about it at all. Or it could have been even some blood-thinned relative four, five, six steps away that didn't even know that there was magic in their blood. Abaddon had come across a stranger and something inside of him had been piqued, a decision made without rehearsing it in his minds-eye. Bow tie was dropped and then the outer-layer of suitcoat was bent from shoulders and allowed to fall behind him. He then worked at the buttons of long-sleeved dress shirt with the ruffly middle, peeling the material down each forearm. The witch that she tried to get to speak was much alike to the Golem, when her mouth did open tongueless hole could only offer groans and more whimpers. <done>
Alice Clare: "A whim," her head turned back to him; watching a moment the way he approached, the way he tugged at his bow tie, shrugged from the cut of his jacket and began to roll up his sleeves. "You found a witch on the street, and on a whim, decided to bring her here. I didn't even know she was magic." Which was .. concerning. Noise was coming from the woman, and Alice reverted her attention back -- gasping softly when she noticed that the tongue in her mouth was gone. The hold within her hair was dropped as if she'd been burned, and Alice took a step back, bumping her body into the strength of his. He didn't wobble, but she did, which only made her press herself more into the steady way he stood. "You have to kill her," she whispered then, and half turned her face up to his; meeting his eyes beyond the fullness of his beard. "She could go back. Tell them. Even without a tongue, she could tell them. There's ways. They'll know, they'll know too soon that I'm with you. What did she say before you took it? What was her magic? Why can't I feel it?" Oh such worry creased at the center of her bold brows, and Alice completed the turn, so she faced him true. Soft hands pressed to his chest, sliding their way north slowly as she searched his eyes. There was worry there, yes, but also trust. Even though it all, she trusted him -- she just needed to know certain things. Not be in the dark. Step by step she'd followed him, often not asking a thing, but this? She had a sinking feeling in her belly that this would blow back at them in ways they weren't prepared for. After all, she'd just slit her damn wrists to keep hidden! -d-
Abaddon: The man's face made no change, only holding that grin steadily with greens focused on her as she spoke and then took a step away from the bound witch. Another bloody thumping of hammer and groans heard from Frank. Having hammered himself into a delirium that left him drooling and shaking, sweat beading on his brow as he breathed heavily over both mutilated feet. The words Alice spoke though seemed.. unlike her.. peculiar. Was it.. worry? She took a step back and wobbled, hitting his anchored position. Right hand snaked around her hip, sealed itself across her abdomen and returned the curve of that beloved rump to the press of his groin. The free hand lifted casually to pluck at the top button and feed them out of each loop in careful motion, speaking. "On a whim, yes. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Her magic is stifled. And she won't be leaving this place alive..." A crying moan came from the bound creature upon hearing his words, and he spoke again, this time with handsome face pointed at the girl. "Oh, come now, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure there is still a chance you make it through all this." He leaned further around Alice's head, peering at her and mouthed "She won't", and shook his head with a finger lifting to indicate "Shh". The dress shirt was then untucked, pulled from his waist. "If you must know, I think she's one of your second or third cousins, I don't know exactly, but if you see her aura there are some similarities. She will be perfect for when we have to kill you." He tilted away from her, sliding fingers off her abdomen, across hip, and then drifting across her ass as he took a few steps towards Frank. Dress shirt was allowed to hang onto shoulders, but it barely covered any of him at all.. especially since those sleeves were rolled up too. He stuck arms beneath Frank's and lifted the groaning thing up and dragged him towards the door slowly. "Go on you big lug, go crawl yourself to the basement, we'll make you some new feet. And tell me, one groan for yes, two for no.. Did you actually smash the girl's feet?" He murmured this some, even though he knew the truth. How surprised would he be to hear two groans. "Very good." And then Don sent the larger broader, but shorter man face first down the steps. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Crash. Each shoe was kicked off and allowed to tumble down in follow. "Put my shoes by the front door too, on your way. Go on... ALICE!" He roared the name and turned sharply on his heel, prowling back to the party room and shirt swaying around him. "Alice, Frank said you lied." <done>
Alice Clare: Abaddon might not find himself surprised by certain information, but such was not the case for Alice Clare. Truthfully, it wasn't the bit about his false attempts at reassuring the female that she was going to make it out of this, or even the bit that she had Donovan blood swimming in her veins. No. No, he caught her fully off guard with that whole ``when we have to kill you`` part. His hands were roaming, a thing that always worked at distracting her, but she was already distracted up in her head space by words. Weird weird words. And also, by trying to see if she could detect any bit of that aura. Alice stayed perfectly still, until Don moved away, and then it was Alice's turn. Crept herself all the way up to the toes -- well, five of them at least -- of the captive witch, and leaned in. "Look at me," she whispered to the thing, and was delighted to find a pair of blue eyes lifting back up to hers. "Shhh, there you are. I see it now. In the eyes. I'll find pen, and paper. You can write your name for me," still whispering, while Don dragged Frank to the stairs. "I'm really quite good at maths, you know. Two and two will always go together to make four, and I fairly certain I've figured what four is in this case. Should I be sorry?" Her voice was a coo of it's cadence, and the softness of her touch came up to spill into blood matted hair, to brush it off the injured face. "I don't think I --" The roar of her name, surrounded by the thumping of a body hitting the stairs over and over had Alice shooting straight up, and whirling about -- looking a bit as if she'd just stuck her hand in the biscuits bin, in fact the touch to the woman's hair was wrenched quickly away and she wrung her fingers together a bit in front of her belly. A gasp, and Alice took a few steps to meet him, already pointing out of the room with her whole arm where Frank had been banished. "He can't say anything!" Slender right foot gave a little stomp; one that jiggled the display of her breasts within their tight hot pink bondage. "You can't possibly believe him over me, look, he even punished himself over it. Would an innocent man just accept that?" Ohhh look at those wide gorgeous eyes, flooded with a sociopath's lying ingenuity. The coolness of her touch, like that of the autumn sea, found his chest then; spreading fingers along the design inked there. "He really is the most awful Golem, baby." The thicket of heavily sooted lashes dropped down to fan black against the high set of angular cheekbones, and her mouth moued into a pout. "Maybe we should just let him die for good." -d-
Abaddon: Right eyebrow motioned upwards with the look that he gave her that never lost its mirth. The trembling stomp. The indignant response, the logic she presented. He couldn't even talk! An awful golem. Punished himself. She lodged herself in her position and wasn't going to be removed, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Head dipped and shadows ran across his face with the hang of brown lengths. "Mm, Alice, Alice, Alice... " He took a step towards her and extended his hand out, pointer finger lifting up and poking her in the chest, directly between those two plush mounds that were squeezed into pink garment. He let eyes sift down from those beautiful wide ocean blues. Predatory hunter greens fixated on the narrow of her throat and he pushed with his finger, pushed at her with enough of his arm and body beneath it to make her take a step back. "You know I wouldn't at all blame you if you had done it. I wouldn't say...." He tilted his face forward a little, tilting chin back so he faced her more appropriately. "Boo." Again he let his finger poke and push her back again, creeping up on her and pushing back into the party-room where that French music whispered and decorations hung all about. The moaning relative in the corner a very 'mundane' ornament in their shadowed world. "Mm, mm. But fibbing to me...." Tip of finger that poked and pushed pressed up, slid up a little till it reached the bottom of her chin, tilting her face so he could return gaze to those blues. "So... who smashed her foot?" Asked quietly with the edge of grin, the six-three frame closing in on her with another step. Not making any further mention of having to kill her, or about the 'distant-relative' they had as a prisoner. <done>
Alice Clare: The way her gaze was lowered afforded her the sight of his poking finger, there in the divot of her cleavage, but as she was forced that step back by the push of it, blues flew back up to his face. Fire sparked behind the mirage of innocence, and reflected too in the way her jaw grit just a little. He wasn't looking at her face though when she looked up, but rather at the spill of plump flesh and the way it rose above the tight pink bandage dress. His words hitched an audible breath in her throat, and Alice for just a moment, looked left and then right, as if there were someone somewhere that might help her. But nope. It was just him, and her, and the bound witch set to the off position in the corner. "I didn't fib!," burst out of her pretty mouth, and Alice stumbled back with the next poke; righting herself enough that when he poked again, she took an actual backward step -- feeling the table in the room hit her just below the ass and both of her hands flew down to press there, when Alice sat a little heavily on it's surface. The man that was hers claimed her chin and lifted her face, stealing the blue of her gaze for his own green pair, and Alice's features crumpled a little there about the chin and the nose. "Oh fine. It was me. I smashed her bloody damn foot, alright! You've caught me! Points to Abaddon. I smashed her stupid foot, because she bloody well wouldn't talk to me! No, no that's not true. Because I wanted to. I wanted to see the little bones, all tiny like little bird bones. I wanted to see what it looked like underneath all the skin, with the ligaments and joints. It's bloody well beautiful, too, lookit it!" One hand peeled from the grip on the table, and shot out to point at the mangled foot. "I'd've lopped the fucking thing off too!" Blues had gone feisty as can be, and were glared up at him now; the little lift of her chin not just from his hand, but from her own bold endeavors. -d-
Abaddon: He left the curl of his finger beneath her chin as she confessed to the sins. All of them. These lies and the sadistic. What began as a light gesture to tilt her face turned to a grip, thumb first sliding over the front of chin and then sliding thumb and pointer to either side of it. He clenched the chin a bit firmer than a kind man would have and let the brass voice respond to her again. "... lying to me, is bad. Even when you're playing." Everything dealing with him was a game or a bargain of some sort, and although he littered their world with tiny omissions and lies... she had never truly caught him by one. Or if she had, she didn't redeem the discovery in to get herself a prize. He on the other hand coveted punishment, enjoyed evening the score between them and he would do whatever it took to keep an edge. She moved onto the table and he slid his hand onto her thigh. Curling on her limb and he drug her back off so that tiny feet landed on the hardwood floor and she was nearly standing on the tips of his navy blue socks. Fingers unclenched chin to grab her by the hips and he spun her like a top, spinning her about once, and she would've probably kept going and twirled around the room had he not caught her and pushed hard. Her hips and abdomen smacking table's edge hard and his right hand pressed at the small of her back, smearing her into a bent position. He crashed his hips against her ass, hardened wedge firmly pressed into round ass and pinning her there and both of his hands fell like manacles upon either wrist. "Mmm, and for lying to me..." Vise of fingers clenched thin wrists, both arms bent back behind her as if she was under arrest. Limbs that lacked the same intensity and strength he possessed were twisted sharply and bound to the small of her back, and although she couldn't see it she'd feel the cold-ice of shadowsilk sliding around her wrists. Black threads twisting and turning to bind those limbs together. ".. you must be hurt. But for telling the truth..." The blunt heat pressed tight enough that it caused a growl to grind out from his chest. Hands simultaneously curled at the dress along her hips, prying materials and drawing it up. ".. you earned yourself a fuck still." <done>