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Post by LIRAEL KIBETH on Sept 28, 2011 9:59:14 GMT -5
"Mmm, that was very enjoyable sweetheart. But I'll be taking that Spiritomb."
A voice whispered lustily into the moonlight as Lirael pulled her knife from her inner thigh, licking the taste of the man she'd just given a real treat off her lips. She slithered up his body, pressing the sharp silver blade into his stomach as a warning, her other hand sliding up his leg, groping his rear and taking the singular pokeball at his belt. Black hair fell over her eyes and she winked at him, stepping away.
"Thanks so much darling," she purred as she turned on her heel, hearing him call out to her. She didn't even flinch as she heard him move, the darkness in her flicking her around and holding the knife out to let it glisten in the street lamp. Her dark eyes shimmered with amusement as he backed off quickly, and Lirael decided she had her fun for the night.
Long hair blew in the wind as she left the scene. There was a reason she operated at night. Peeling off the stolen leather jacket and dumping it on the ground, she straightened her slightly skewed black dress and moved into the streets of Verandaturf town. Who knew that there were guys willing to take their clothes off against houses in such a quaint little place? Well, Lirael did now. Searching in her bag for candy, she dropped a few pieces in her mouth in order to remove any and all reminder that she'd just done grunt work. Except, it wasn't just grunt work, that Spiritomb was worth good money on the black market, and she did intend to make some excellent profits from it, then steal it again - rinse, repeat.
Heading towards the place she generally hung around when she was in town, she found the coffee shop with a little disdain. It wasn't much past ten and the place was closed. She pulled the chairs from off her usual table, looking inside at the blackened room with a pout. Now what was she going to do without her lifeblood? Well, she could keep eating her candy, that would help. Her fingers dug around, splaying the sugary goodness out onto the table before her as she crossed her legs loungingly, staring off into the distanct as she pulled her hair out of it's ponytail and let free. Even if the man she'd just seduced walked straight past her, the softening of that simple move would have thrown him from her trail. She could be two very different women were she to try. Two very different women indeed.
Wondering how the night was progressing for the other rebels in the area, the woman reached for her phone and paged the more local recruits, with an 'emergency meeting at hoppips coffee place' as the message. Well, sure, it was a lie, but the fun of her night had ended and Lirael wanted something to entertain her. She wanted something more than a quick pash in an alleyway. But what to do if no one answered her call?
TAGGED Rebels or.. Idk. Someone?
WORDS 515
NOTES I'd rather a higher up rebel, someone she knows. But idk. xD
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Post by DAMION RACHER on Oct 1, 2011 23:49:37 GMT -5
Of all the numbers Damion expected to appear on his phone, Lirael's was not even close to it. Instantly, his expression closed off into a sharp frown. Why did she have to text, he'd been having such a good night too...
"Scar... let loose." Reluctantly, the Furret released her hold on the young man's ear, smoothing down her fluffed up fur gently as she wound her way back to Damion's shoulder. If there was really a rebel meeting, then naturally he needed to be there. It was simply a matter of wanting to. As ambitious as Damion was, his position hadn't come about just because he was popular - because that would never happen - no, he'd had to work. Hard. And so he had, but there was no shame in mixing business with pleasure. Strolling over to the young man, Damion's fingers were firm as he tilted his chin up for a sweet kiss.
As always, he struggled at first. His eyes fixed on Scar's dark, gleaming eyes as she watched him. Fear, panic, that was always how it started. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he relaxed against him. That was the trick, to everything. To make them trust, to make them want, to leave them wanting. The way Damion worked was with people, he attached to their minds and pulled them along in his sick little games, only to release them at a critical point and watch them crash without his support. Even now. The kid forgot the blood running down his neck from Scar's vicious bite to his ear, his hands clutched at Damion's shirt, body leaned closer to curl up against his-- And his phone beeped again, reminding him he hadn't read the message.
One day, he was going to throttle Lirael.
"Sorry, darling. I have somewhere I need to be. Feel free to give me a call if you get... loney." Of course, he probably would never see this boy again... Shame that Lirael had to text right at that moment, Damion had been getting bored as of late and some fun wouldn't have gone astray. Why tonight? Of all nights. Walking quickly, Damion grinned as Scar assumed her "scarf" position, curling her body around his neck so that he could feel the soft pattering of her heart against his neck, the rise and fall of her breath. By far, she was probably the one Damion would give anything to rescue. His little princess, he supposed.
"Wow, this really looks like quite the meeting. Are you certain I was what you had in mind when you sent that message?" It was honestly a shame he hated her so damn much, considering the fact she was a a very, very beautiful woman. Sexy and evil to boot too, if only she wasn't so close to Eli... Ah well, nothing to be done about it now. Pulling a chair over to sit across from him, Damion grinned as he folded himself back into his chair.
"Awh meeting by moonlight, really Lirael. You shouldn't have~"
TAGGED
WORDS wordthings
NOTES
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