Post by Emily on Nov 3, 2015 21:25:13 GMT -8
CAST: Crispin Wellings (crispingwellings@aol.com), Rose Sterling (myoncepromise@aol.com)
SUMMARY: Rose checks in on her favorite "boyfriend."
TW: violence, emasculation, mild sexual content
[Rose] When Crispin awoke the morning after Halloween, he would find no treat waiting for him in his flat's small kitchen; just Rose. The petite brunette had crossed her ankles atop his kitchen table, zippered, high-heeled ankle boots and all. She wiped her right hand off on the dark denim snuggling the curve of slim hips, a sign that she'd probably helped herself to an English muffin -- butter and jam, please and thank you. She'd also helped herself to a cup of coffee, already half-drained and loitering to her right. A second cup, undoctored and probably going cold, sat before the chair next to her, as though she were expecting company. "I've taken liberties," she announced, nodding toward the aforementioned java and forcing a smile onto full, raspberry lips. The pile of envelopes in her hand received the bulk of her attention, despite that not one of them was addressed to her. Each was opened and its contents examined at her leisure, then eventually tossed onto the floor next to her in a flurry of not giving a single fuck.
[Crispin] Having only been a few days removed from his disasterous meet and greet with Violet, Crispin opted to stay in on Halloween; he still had a scab on the upper left portion of his lip where he ripped and tore at his facial hair, and the bruise under his eye had become a sickly greenish-yellow as it continued to heal. Of course, just because he stayed in didn't mean he was a total boy scout. A half empty bottle of Johnny Walker black label rested on the kitchen counter beside an empty box of Chinese take-out. He stirred on the sofa upon hearing the announcement. Her voice pierced his consciousness enough to influence the dream he was having, though when he opened his eyes he didn't remember what it was about. Shirtless, he turned his gaze on her and tried to focus his eyes. Was he still dreaming? No. "You..." his voice gravelly and heavy with sleep. Crispin tossed the covers aside and stood in his boxer shorts and nothing else, taking on a stance that was simultaneously defensive and confrontational. "What the fu... Liberties?" He swallowed and noted his opened mail and the mugs of coffee. "How did you get in?" he growled, grabbing a pair of worn out jeans from the floor and quickly putting them on. He didn't bother with a shirt. The floor creaked as he crossed the room and slowly lowered into the chair across from her, a look of irritation at her high-heeled boots resting on his table. "What are you doing here and what the hell do you want? I ought to press charges against you and your bitch of a cousin." So much for pleasantries. Was she aware he had hired someone to snoop around and do a background check on her?
[Rose] She lifted an eyebrow at him from behind one of those pieces of mail, silent, a moment, as dark-lashed doe eyes helped themselves to the sight of him. Whether they sparkled because she didn't find the cut of his underpantsed, scruff-headed, teetering-on-aggressive physique altogether disagreeable or because of the scabbing and bruising to his face was her little secret. "I got in by way of the front door, Crispin," she explained gently, as though she were educating a child. "I'm not Santa Claus." Nevermind that he'd probably locked the front door, pre-liquor and take-out fest. "I told you I'd be in touch. Are you surprised? You shouldn't be." And then she waved off the notion that he might press charges against her and Violet, like he'd just threatened to whip her with a wet noodle. Not impressed, apparently. Oh, yes, she was aware of the 'hacker.' The 'hacker' was now aware of her, too. She'd been a very social girl, thus far, this morning! "Can't a girl check in on her favorite boyfriend every now and again? Honestly; I may start coming more often." She lifted the piece of mail she'd been reading. "You can't even pay your bills on time. You obviously need a woman around here."
[Crispin] Crispin took a deep, meditative breath to center himself. The momentum from their last encounter had carried over, as she clearly still had him off-balance. A thin, sarcastic smile and a tilt of his head was given in reaction to how she got in before he pushed his hair back out of his eyes and leaned back in his chair pensively. "I was hoping to never see you again, but it seems I should have taken you at your word. Just can't stay away? Listen, I know how attractive I am, but believe me when I tell you you're not my type; I like women, not little girls." He didn't even address the boyfriend comment, though by the reddenning of his face it was obvious that line had gotten under his skin. He stood and walked to the fridge dismissively, one, because he was hungry, and two, he didn't want her to see the color drain from his face when she suggested she needed to come around more often. "You know," he began, pouring himself a bowl of Cheerios, "I looked into it and I did pay my bills, but it seems my card was declined. You don't know anything about that, do you?" He stared pointedly at her for a beat and then began starting a fresh pot of coffee. "What do you want? Money? I'll give you 500 bucks to delete that goddamn video and get out of my life." Once the coffee was brewing he sat back down at the table and ate, watching her with a wary eye. He was searching for a crack in her defense -- some sort of weakness -- anything! Because right now he was feeling absolutely steamrolled by this beautiful woman and it burned him up inside.
[Rose] "I don't particularly care for little girls, either," Rose agreed nonchalantly. "Not even if they know how attractive they are." A theatrical sigh preceded the flutter of another letter and the rip into of the next envelope. She made no move away from or toward Crispin, apparently quite comfortable where she was. She just let him move through the room as he seemed wont to do. Amusement tugged at the apples of her cheeks. "Five hundred dollars wouldn't buy me a new pair of shoes, you precious creature, you. Aside from that, you can't afford it. I've reviewed your financial situation and closed most of your accounts for you. You can thank me, later, when your credit score is higher than your standards were." By 'standards,' of course, she meant England's equivalent of the SATs, but depending on what kind of guilty spending pleasures Crispin had, he might just well take that any way it struck him. "I don't want your money. I want you, Prince Charming. What are you doing, this week?"
[Crispin] Oh, burn. He supposed he walked right into that one though. His hand around the spoon tightened into a hard fist momentarily before relaxing. Finishing his cereal, he got back up and put the bowl in the sink and then poured himself a nice big mug of coffee. A little sugar and a quick stir and he was back in his seat just in time to see how amused she looked. Then, the bombshell. "What?! ...How?! You have no right!" A feeble pounding on the table with the ball of his hand. She wasn't just a step ahead of him, she was four of five steps ahead. His gaze turned inward as he went through numerous mental checks, trying to figure out how she closed the accounts, how much were in them, if he had any way of reversing it, etc. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers there was a quiet desperation in them that just oozed frustration. "I had...a lot of money in those accounts. This isn't fucking funny. What did you do with my money? I want it back." His flesh had become ashen and he looked positively sick to his stomach. "You want me how?". Setting the mug down, he put his hand in his hand, still reeling from this latest news. He barely even registered her question. "...What? N...Nothing. How can I do anything when I have no cash?! You know my car payment is due today, right?"
[Rose] "No right?" she laughed. "The only right any of us has in this world is the right we 2 can get away with taking... and I get away with quite a bit, now, don't I?" Crispin's pound at the table didn't startle her, but she widened her eyes at him for it nonetheless. The same hand that had only recently left a violent red crack across his face reached out to brush gentle fingertips across it in a gesture meant to feign sympathy. "Don't be cross. I know that you had a lot of money in those accounts and I've been very wise in investing it for you. You'll see." Perhaps. Perhaps not. Her demeanor brightened visibly as she skipped over a couple of his questions and only responded to what interested her, per usual. "Oh, good, I'm glad that your social calendar has cleared up. I've got a friend I'd like you to meet. He's a thief, like you." Rose grimaced awkwardly, pulling full lips thin. "Well, not like you. He knows what he's doing. He's offered to try to train you up for me. I'll make the arrangements."
[Crispin] He pulled away sharlpy from her touch, his left eye beginning to twitch. She was pushing too far. He nearly exploded. "Train me for you?! Who the...what...I.." he sputtered, so enraged he really was at a loss of words. Coffee spilled all over the table as he leapt up and grabbed her by the collar. He pivoted on his foot, hoisting her up and slamming her back against the wall. "This ends right now!" he growled through clenched teeth, a dangerous edge in his voice. "I'm through playing games with your ass. Get. Me. My. Money." he pressed his forearm against her, leaning in until they were close, intimate. "I've been having other...problems...as well. I know you're behind it somehow. I know you have powers. Well now it ends. The money, the video, the bullying...all of it. You don't think I'll kill you? You have no idea what I'm capable of." The wall clock ticked monotonously behind him, filling the otherwise silent room. "Now first thing is first. Take out your phone and transfer the money back into whatever account is still open." She wasn't going anywhere until she did, either.
[Rose] While she had plenty of weight to throw around, not much of it was actual weight. Crispin wouldn't have had any trouble getting her small frame pinned into that wall unless she actively resisted, and she didn't, at least not for the moment. She let him have his temper tantrum. "You've spilled your coffee," Rose chided, brown eyes fixed to his, still soft, still curious despite his rough treatment of her and probably, in fact, because of it. She watched him the way a child might watch a vinegar and baking soda volcano science project, wondering how much more an explosion was left in him. "That's going to stain your table if you let it sit." She didn't show any sign of genuine, uncontrolled reaction until he came in close -- too close -- and confessed his 'other problems,' which of course she was also responsible for. Unless she was mistaken, however, he was not having any such 'other problem' at the moment, whether it was because it was first thing in the morning or because he had a weird thing about difficult women. Rose shifted with discomfort as best she could without shattering Crispin's illusion of physical control. Had her binding not worked? No, he'd just told her it did. It just wasn't working... with her. How was that possible? It wasn't supposed to be possible. She must have done something wrong when she'd cast the spell. She had to have. Her thought processes were on a train track miles away from his, and it was as though she either didn't care or hadn't heard his threat against her life. Her response to him was distracted, at best, exhaled on a measured breath. "I've left you an allowance in your primary checking account. You don't need to get all touchy-feely about it."
[Crispin] "Just shut up," he hissed, pushing up against her to re-affirm his control over the situation. It was then he noticed that yes, his little problem wasn't so little or a problem anymore -- at least with her. The mind-fuck this produced contorted his face into what must have been an amusing sight. An awkward kind of shame followed in which he moved his hips back while still driving his forearm into her. He didn't even realize that she seemed a bit confused herself. "Allowance? No. You're not my momma and I'm not your bitch. I want my money - all of it." His grip tightened and he twisted his hip, tossing her through the doorway and into the bedroom. Then he reached into his pocket, grabbed his cell and tossed it over to her. "Do it. Make the transfer. I'm really not fucking around anymore." Following her, he shut the door behind him and locked it. Crispin snatched a metalic object from the top of his dresser and with a flick of his wrist opened it up to reveal a switchblade. Not playing around anymore indeed. He was dead serious now. "Do it."
[Rose] Before she could come back with some sharp barb about how bitches don't get caught stealing from little old ladies, Rose was tossed and sliding across carpet that left pinking burns on ivory skin: her right arm, right hip and flat belly, exposed by the rise and wrinkle of a short-sleeved navy blouse. She hissed with the abrasion and began to crawl onto her feet as he followed her into the bedroom, locking the door behind him and deploying his switchblade. "That is no way for a man to treat his girlfriend," she replied coolly, nerves steel again now that he was keeping his hips and what was between them to himself. "What are you going to do with that?" she mused, nodding toward the switchblade in his hand. "Tickle me?"
[Crispin] He glanced down at the blade in his hand before looking back over to her, a crooked grin spreading across his handsome face. It was the first time since they met that he actually felt self-assured. "I was thinking more along the lines of slicing your eye lids off, or gutting you like a fish...Depending on how compliant you are. I'm really not such a bad guy, you know," he mused, flipping the knife this way and that in his hand. "But you keep provoking me. And messing with my money is like messing with my emotions. What did you expect? I'd just bend over and take it?" He smirked. "Though I have to admit, that shit your cousin pulled? That was pretty slick. But you crossed a line. Now come on," he took a few steps forward, begining to invade her space, "quit stalling." He didn't get too close though -- not like before. His reaction to her was annoying at best and unnerving at worst. What the hell did it say about him that one woman who could get a rise out of him was also the one tormenting him? He just wasn't prepared to go there psychologically yet.
[Rose] Look at that," she all but cooed, standing her ground, straightening her blouse. Rose pulled her left hand through long, dark hair to right it. "You smile. Who knew?" Crooked grins aren't exactly smiles, but she was going to take it and run with it. "I knew you'd be happy to see me. And with such pretty words to make up for throwing me across the room. How could anyone ever think you a bad guy at all?" She knew. She knew that between messing with Crispin's money and his manhood, she was due a strong reaction, and she twirled a thin section of her hair around her left hand's middle finger while he threatened her with just that. The tone of her voice warmed. "You know damn well that I'm not going to do it. You know damn well that you can't kill me, too, don't you? Let's stop fighting, lover. I just hate it when you're angry at me."
[Crispin] It was the blantant disregard for his threats -- hell, for him as a man -- that drove him to act so rashly. But if she wouldn't take him at all seriously, if he was just a big joke to her, well then he would force the issue. Moving with surprising speed, Crispin lunged forward, stabbing at her stomach like a fencer. But the blade was repelled, almost like magnetics with reverse polarities, he harmlessly slipped off to the side in one smooth motion. Having expect the knife to embed into her his balance was completely off. He fell forward, right into her, face crashing down into her lower abdomen, knocking her to the ground on his way to doing a belly flop onto the floor. It was a hilariously awkward position: her on her back and Crispin on his stomach in front of her, chin resting just over the waistline of her pants, her legs draped over his shoulders. Hello! And that confused, bewildered look on his face as he struggled to process what the hell just happened before even thinking it might be a good idea to remove his neck from between her thighs and sit up! It was yet another lesson for the man that witches were real, and he was dealing with one that had powers beyond his comprehension. With that in mind, his plight became exponentially more hopeless.
[Rose] A strangled cry escaped her throat as she was knocked back onto the floor, but the sprig of snowdrop pinned to the low-slit Mandarin collar of her blouse had done its job in warding off any threat to her life that Crispin's knife might have otherwise presented. There was a wince on her face as she pulled up onto her elbows to spy his predicament. Again, the iron fist she kept around the persona she portrayed in her dealings with him lost a little bit of its grip. She cleared her throat quietly. "That's... really not necessary, you know. I was just fine with the idea of a nonsexual relationship."
[Crispin] He remained splayed out before her in that compromising position for what felt like forever, but really it was only a few seconds. If he couldn't even hurt her with a knife, then he was even more helpless than he thought. Inconsolable and in no rush whatsoever, for he knew she really did have his number, he pushed up and sank back onto his knees. No retort for her little quip, no witty comeback. It was really sinking in now: She controlled his money, his manhood, his reputation, his future, his life...she controlled him! The weight of his dread bore down on him with this reality sinking deeper and deeper in. The knife dropped harmlessly from his hand, clanging against the floor. He felt naked. Exposed. No more tricks up his sleeve. The emperor had no clothes. He blinked back tears. "Rose....please..I...I'm sorry. But this.." he shook his head, embarrassed at the vulnerability. "Don't do this to me," a plea now, no longer a demand. The art of begging was not something he was very familiar with but seemed absolutely essential now. His shoulders slumped forward and all of the tension went out of his body. Downcast, watery eyes stared hard at the floor. This is what being at someone's mercy felt like.
[Rose] She couldn't have scooted back and away from him fast enough just as soon as he'd given her hips their freedom. Complications. Rose doesn't like them, and something about this entire situation was screaming at her: COMPLICATED. IT'S ABOUT TO GET REALLY FUCKING COMPLICATED. Oh, great; that blink. Between the emotion that had clouded her defenses the evening previous at her coven's Samhain celebration, being caught off guard by a strange loophole in one of her normally escape-proof binding spells and the watery eyes on the man who only a moment ago had come at her with a sneer and a switchblade, her facade was slipping. It was time to run. "Don't cry," whispered the tormentor, moving for and unlocking the door. It could have seemed like the chink in her armor that it was had she not found it somewhere in her to pull one last wool over his eyes before she slipped out of his bedroom. "You fucking pussy."
SUMMARY: Rose checks in on her favorite "boyfriend."
TW: violence, emasculation, mild sexual content
[Rose] When Crispin awoke the morning after Halloween, he would find no treat waiting for him in his flat's small kitchen; just Rose. The petite brunette had crossed her ankles atop his kitchen table, zippered, high-heeled ankle boots and all. She wiped her right hand off on the dark denim snuggling the curve of slim hips, a sign that she'd probably helped herself to an English muffin -- butter and jam, please and thank you. She'd also helped herself to a cup of coffee, already half-drained and loitering to her right. A second cup, undoctored and probably going cold, sat before the chair next to her, as though she were expecting company. "I've taken liberties," she announced, nodding toward the aforementioned java and forcing a smile onto full, raspberry lips. The pile of envelopes in her hand received the bulk of her attention, despite that not one of them was addressed to her. Each was opened and its contents examined at her leisure, then eventually tossed onto the floor next to her in a flurry of not giving a single fuck.
[Crispin] Having only been a few days removed from his disasterous meet and greet with Violet, Crispin opted to stay in on Halloween; he still had a scab on the upper left portion of his lip where he ripped and tore at his facial hair, and the bruise under his eye had become a sickly greenish-yellow as it continued to heal. Of course, just because he stayed in didn't mean he was a total boy scout. A half empty bottle of Johnny Walker black label rested on the kitchen counter beside an empty box of Chinese take-out. He stirred on the sofa upon hearing the announcement. Her voice pierced his consciousness enough to influence the dream he was having, though when he opened his eyes he didn't remember what it was about. Shirtless, he turned his gaze on her and tried to focus his eyes. Was he still dreaming? No. "You..." his voice gravelly and heavy with sleep. Crispin tossed the covers aside and stood in his boxer shorts and nothing else, taking on a stance that was simultaneously defensive and confrontational. "What the fu... Liberties?" He swallowed and noted his opened mail and the mugs of coffee. "How did you get in?" he growled, grabbing a pair of worn out jeans from the floor and quickly putting them on. He didn't bother with a shirt. The floor creaked as he crossed the room and slowly lowered into the chair across from her, a look of irritation at her high-heeled boots resting on his table. "What are you doing here and what the hell do you want? I ought to press charges against you and your bitch of a cousin." So much for pleasantries. Was she aware he had hired someone to snoop around and do a background check on her?
[Rose] She lifted an eyebrow at him from behind one of those pieces of mail, silent, a moment, as dark-lashed doe eyes helped themselves to the sight of him. Whether they sparkled because she didn't find the cut of his underpantsed, scruff-headed, teetering-on-aggressive physique altogether disagreeable or because of the scabbing and bruising to his face was her little secret. "I got in by way of the front door, Crispin," she explained gently, as though she were educating a child. "I'm not Santa Claus." Nevermind that he'd probably locked the front door, pre-liquor and take-out fest. "I told you I'd be in touch. Are you surprised? You shouldn't be." And then she waved off the notion that he might press charges against her and Violet, like he'd just threatened to whip her with a wet noodle. Not impressed, apparently. Oh, yes, she was aware of the 'hacker.' The 'hacker' was now aware of her, too. She'd been a very social girl, thus far, this morning! "Can't a girl check in on her favorite boyfriend every now and again? Honestly; I may start coming more often." She lifted the piece of mail she'd been reading. "You can't even pay your bills on time. You obviously need a woman around here."
[Crispin] Crispin took a deep, meditative breath to center himself. The momentum from their last encounter had carried over, as she clearly still had him off-balance. A thin, sarcastic smile and a tilt of his head was given in reaction to how she got in before he pushed his hair back out of his eyes and leaned back in his chair pensively. "I was hoping to never see you again, but it seems I should have taken you at your word. Just can't stay away? Listen, I know how attractive I am, but believe me when I tell you you're not my type; I like women, not little girls." He didn't even address the boyfriend comment, though by the reddenning of his face it was obvious that line had gotten under his skin. He stood and walked to the fridge dismissively, one, because he was hungry, and two, he didn't want her to see the color drain from his face when she suggested she needed to come around more often. "You know," he began, pouring himself a bowl of Cheerios, "I looked into it and I did pay my bills, but it seems my card was declined. You don't know anything about that, do you?" He stared pointedly at her for a beat and then began starting a fresh pot of coffee. "What do you want? Money? I'll give you 500 bucks to delete that goddamn video and get out of my life." Once the coffee was brewing he sat back down at the table and ate, watching her with a wary eye. He was searching for a crack in her defense -- some sort of weakness -- anything! Because right now he was feeling absolutely steamrolled by this beautiful woman and it burned him up inside.
[Rose] "I don't particularly care for little girls, either," Rose agreed nonchalantly. "Not even if they know how attractive they are." A theatrical sigh preceded the flutter of another letter and the rip into of the next envelope. She made no move away from or toward Crispin, apparently quite comfortable where she was. She just let him move through the room as he seemed wont to do. Amusement tugged at the apples of her cheeks. "Five hundred dollars wouldn't buy me a new pair of shoes, you precious creature, you. Aside from that, you can't afford it. I've reviewed your financial situation and closed most of your accounts for you. You can thank me, later, when your credit score is higher than your standards were." By 'standards,' of course, she meant England's equivalent of the SATs, but depending on what kind of guilty spending pleasures Crispin had, he might just well take that any way it struck him. "I don't want your money. I want you, Prince Charming. What are you doing, this week?"
[Crispin] Oh, burn. He supposed he walked right into that one though. His hand around the spoon tightened into a hard fist momentarily before relaxing. Finishing his cereal, he got back up and put the bowl in the sink and then poured himself a nice big mug of coffee. A little sugar and a quick stir and he was back in his seat just in time to see how amused she looked. Then, the bombshell. "What?! ...How?! You have no right!" A feeble pounding on the table with the ball of his hand. She wasn't just a step ahead of him, she was four of five steps ahead. His gaze turned inward as he went through numerous mental checks, trying to figure out how she closed the accounts, how much were in them, if he had any way of reversing it, etc. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers there was a quiet desperation in them that just oozed frustration. "I had...a lot of money in those accounts. This isn't fucking funny. What did you do with my money? I want it back." His flesh had become ashen and he looked positively sick to his stomach. "You want me how?". Setting the mug down, he put his hand in his hand, still reeling from this latest news. He barely even registered her question. "...What? N...Nothing. How can I do anything when I have no cash?! You know my car payment is due today, right?"
[Rose] "No right?" she laughed. "The only right any of us has in this world is the right we 2 can get away with taking... and I get away with quite a bit, now, don't I?" Crispin's pound at the table didn't startle her, but she widened her eyes at him for it nonetheless. The same hand that had only recently left a violent red crack across his face reached out to brush gentle fingertips across it in a gesture meant to feign sympathy. "Don't be cross. I know that you had a lot of money in those accounts and I've been very wise in investing it for you. You'll see." Perhaps. Perhaps not. Her demeanor brightened visibly as she skipped over a couple of his questions and only responded to what interested her, per usual. "Oh, good, I'm glad that your social calendar has cleared up. I've got a friend I'd like you to meet. He's a thief, like you." Rose grimaced awkwardly, pulling full lips thin. "Well, not like you. He knows what he's doing. He's offered to try to train you up for me. I'll make the arrangements."
[Crispin] He pulled away sharlpy from her touch, his left eye beginning to twitch. She was pushing too far. He nearly exploded. "Train me for you?! Who the...what...I.." he sputtered, so enraged he really was at a loss of words. Coffee spilled all over the table as he leapt up and grabbed her by the collar. He pivoted on his foot, hoisting her up and slamming her back against the wall. "This ends right now!" he growled through clenched teeth, a dangerous edge in his voice. "I'm through playing games with your ass. Get. Me. My. Money." he pressed his forearm against her, leaning in until they were close, intimate. "I've been having other...problems...as well. I know you're behind it somehow. I know you have powers. Well now it ends. The money, the video, the bullying...all of it. You don't think I'll kill you? You have no idea what I'm capable of." The wall clock ticked monotonously behind him, filling the otherwise silent room. "Now first thing is first. Take out your phone and transfer the money back into whatever account is still open." She wasn't going anywhere until she did, either.
[Rose] While she had plenty of weight to throw around, not much of it was actual weight. Crispin wouldn't have had any trouble getting her small frame pinned into that wall unless she actively resisted, and she didn't, at least not for the moment. She let him have his temper tantrum. "You've spilled your coffee," Rose chided, brown eyes fixed to his, still soft, still curious despite his rough treatment of her and probably, in fact, because of it. She watched him the way a child might watch a vinegar and baking soda volcano science project, wondering how much more an explosion was left in him. "That's going to stain your table if you let it sit." She didn't show any sign of genuine, uncontrolled reaction until he came in close -- too close -- and confessed his 'other problems,' which of course she was also responsible for. Unless she was mistaken, however, he was not having any such 'other problem' at the moment, whether it was because it was first thing in the morning or because he had a weird thing about difficult women. Rose shifted with discomfort as best she could without shattering Crispin's illusion of physical control. Had her binding not worked? No, he'd just told her it did. It just wasn't working... with her. How was that possible? It wasn't supposed to be possible. She must have done something wrong when she'd cast the spell. She had to have. Her thought processes were on a train track miles away from his, and it was as though she either didn't care or hadn't heard his threat against her life. Her response to him was distracted, at best, exhaled on a measured breath. "I've left you an allowance in your primary checking account. You don't need to get all touchy-feely about it."
[Crispin] "Just shut up," he hissed, pushing up against her to re-affirm his control over the situation. It was then he noticed that yes, his little problem wasn't so little or a problem anymore -- at least with her. The mind-fuck this produced contorted his face into what must have been an amusing sight. An awkward kind of shame followed in which he moved his hips back while still driving his forearm into her. He didn't even realize that she seemed a bit confused herself. "Allowance? No. You're not my momma and I'm not your bitch. I want my money - all of it." His grip tightened and he twisted his hip, tossing her through the doorway and into the bedroom. Then he reached into his pocket, grabbed his cell and tossed it over to her. "Do it. Make the transfer. I'm really not fucking around anymore." Following her, he shut the door behind him and locked it. Crispin snatched a metalic object from the top of his dresser and with a flick of his wrist opened it up to reveal a switchblade. Not playing around anymore indeed. He was dead serious now. "Do it."
[Rose] Before she could come back with some sharp barb about how bitches don't get caught stealing from little old ladies, Rose was tossed and sliding across carpet that left pinking burns on ivory skin: her right arm, right hip and flat belly, exposed by the rise and wrinkle of a short-sleeved navy blouse. She hissed with the abrasion and began to crawl onto her feet as he followed her into the bedroom, locking the door behind him and deploying his switchblade. "That is no way for a man to treat his girlfriend," she replied coolly, nerves steel again now that he was keeping his hips and what was between them to himself. "What are you going to do with that?" she mused, nodding toward the switchblade in his hand. "Tickle me?"
[Crispin] He glanced down at the blade in his hand before looking back over to her, a crooked grin spreading across his handsome face. It was the first time since they met that he actually felt self-assured. "I was thinking more along the lines of slicing your eye lids off, or gutting you like a fish...Depending on how compliant you are. I'm really not such a bad guy, you know," he mused, flipping the knife this way and that in his hand. "But you keep provoking me. And messing with my money is like messing with my emotions. What did you expect? I'd just bend over and take it?" He smirked. "Though I have to admit, that shit your cousin pulled? That was pretty slick. But you crossed a line. Now come on," he took a few steps forward, begining to invade her space, "quit stalling." He didn't get too close though -- not like before. His reaction to her was annoying at best and unnerving at worst. What the hell did it say about him that one woman who could get a rise out of him was also the one tormenting him? He just wasn't prepared to go there psychologically yet.
[Rose] Look at that," she all but cooed, standing her ground, straightening her blouse. Rose pulled her left hand through long, dark hair to right it. "You smile. Who knew?" Crooked grins aren't exactly smiles, but she was going to take it and run with it. "I knew you'd be happy to see me. And with such pretty words to make up for throwing me across the room. How could anyone ever think you a bad guy at all?" She knew. She knew that between messing with Crispin's money and his manhood, she was due a strong reaction, and she twirled a thin section of her hair around her left hand's middle finger while he threatened her with just that. The tone of her voice warmed. "You know damn well that I'm not going to do it. You know damn well that you can't kill me, too, don't you? Let's stop fighting, lover. I just hate it when you're angry at me."
[Crispin] It was the blantant disregard for his threats -- hell, for him as a man -- that drove him to act so rashly. But if she wouldn't take him at all seriously, if he was just a big joke to her, well then he would force the issue. Moving with surprising speed, Crispin lunged forward, stabbing at her stomach like a fencer. But the blade was repelled, almost like magnetics with reverse polarities, he harmlessly slipped off to the side in one smooth motion. Having expect the knife to embed into her his balance was completely off. He fell forward, right into her, face crashing down into her lower abdomen, knocking her to the ground on his way to doing a belly flop onto the floor. It was a hilariously awkward position: her on her back and Crispin on his stomach in front of her, chin resting just over the waistline of her pants, her legs draped over his shoulders. Hello! And that confused, bewildered look on his face as he struggled to process what the hell just happened before even thinking it might be a good idea to remove his neck from between her thighs and sit up! It was yet another lesson for the man that witches were real, and he was dealing with one that had powers beyond his comprehension. With that in mind, his plight became exponentially more hopeless.
[Rose] A strangled cry escaped her throat as she was knocked back onto the floor, but the sprig of snowdrop pinned to the low-slit Mandarin collar of her blouse had done its job in warding off any threat to her life that Crispin's knife might have otherwise presented. There was a wince on her face as she pulled up onto her elbows to spy his predicament. Again, the iron fist she kept around the persona she portrayed in her dealings with him lost a little bit of its grip. She cleared her throat quietly. "That's... really not necessary, you know. I was just fine with the idea of a nonsexual relationship."
[Crispin] He remained splayed out before her in that compromising position for what felt like forever, but really it was only a few seconds. If he couldn't even hurt her with a knife, then he was even more helpless than he thought. Inconsolable and in no rush whatsoever, for he knew she really did have his number, he pushed up and sank back onto his knees. No retort for her little quip, no witty comeback. It was really sinking in now: She controlled his money, his manhood, his reputation, his future, his life...she controlled him! The weight of his dread bore down on him with this reality sinking deeper and deeper in. The knife dropped harmlessly from his hand, clanging against the floor. He felt naked. Exposed. No more tricks up his sleeve. The emperor had no clothes. He blinked back tears. "Rose....please..I...I'm sorry. But this.." he shook his head, embarrassed at the vulnerability. "Don't do this to me," a plea now, no longer a demand. The art of begging was not something he was very familiar with but seemed absolutely essential now. His shoulders slumped forward and all of the tension went out of his body. Downcast, watery eyes stared hard at the floor. This is what being at someone's mercy felt like.
[Rose] She couldn't have scooted back and away from him fast enough just as soon as he'd given her hips their freedom. Complications. Rose doesn't like them, and something about this entire situation was screaming at her: COMPLICATED. IT'S ABOUT TO GET REALLY FUCKING COMPLICATED. Oh, great; that blink. Between the emotion that had clouded her defenses the evening previous at her coven's Samhain celebration, being caught off guard by a strange loophole in one of her normally escape-proof binding spells and the watery eyes on the man who only a moment ago had come at her with a sneer and a switchblade, her facade was slipping. It was time to run. "Don't cry," whispered the tormentor, moving for and unlocking the door. It could have seemed like the chink in her armor that it was had she not found it somewhere in her to pull one last wool over his eyes before she slipped out of his bedroom. "You fucking pussy."