The Depths of Hell [Devil's Lair]

[Zephyr]

Jaxen's proffered supplement for their intended purpose was starting to take affect. Her head swam and it was a little like getting lost at sea minus the wind. Though there might have been a breeze. His arm was around her waist and his tongue in his ear and she lost more focus on the creature ahead of them. His body against hers, the whispered words where hardly sweet nothings but she smiled none-the-less. She was wanton, the fact that he was a god barely registered anymore.

Zephyr took hold of Jaxen's arm around her waist and unfurled him from her and pressed him against the wall of the darkened hall they traversed. She smiled darkly at him "You know exactly who I am." She pressed her body against his and lifting her knee to press against the wall next to him. The dress rode up her body -- the world could see what was on offer if they dared look. She kissed him hard and needy only to pull away to tell him more. "I wasn't there to hunt. Was there to make a deal. A deal you wouldn't care for, but this might be a better one. I won't hurt you -- unless you want me to." She trailed a short finger nail down the side of his face and pulled his hands down her body to her ass. It was an offering -- peace or otherwise.

[[ ooc: Cruz will remain in a state of screaming and being alive for however long we need. so he won't be replying for a bit I don't want to ruin all the fun lol ]]

[Jaxen Marveet]

He hated it when girls played that shit. If he knew who she was, he wouldn’t have asked.

Annoying, but then she pushed that tongue into his mouth and threw her knee to the wall, and he forgot all about it. Jaxen would have said she was the Queen of the World and slid down the wall to show her if he had the chance, but burns ripped down his cheek instead. Not even a chance to touch his face to check for blood before his palms were filled with plump muscle instead. Oh yeah. He squeezed those sweet cheeks. Wouldn't you? 

She said something else but it slid in one ear and right out the other. But he was long gone by then. She pressed into him and he thought he might melt. Yep. This was going to be the good stuff. He went ahead and yanked that skirt up a little more. Just to make it easier on himself, better angles and shit like that. Really get up in there. The leather though. There was no give! His own pants, now there was plenty of room for extra hands. And he was happy to show off that extra feature. Even did her the favor of zipping down the front for her. See? Nobody said Jaxen wasn't chivalrous. 

He figured there’d be moaning. Himself obviously, but at least some from her. Which was why he was it was really fucked up to catch the really annoying sound of blood curdling screams instead.

It was entirely possible the screams were in his head. But he’d specifically ordered a very different kind of rec than hallucinating shit. Watching little animated woodland critters dance up and down your dick and listening to plucky tweedle-dee music horning out your ass was an entirely different order. Costs about the same, but still. Different order.

Which was why he was pretty sure the screaming was real. Goddammit. The last time he was anywhere near as hot a fuck as this precise moment, they were all interrupted by ass-rapey ghosts at the ball.

He rolled his eyes away from the batshit crazy hot chick - you know how hard that is? They only come around a few times in life. This one was a real find and this was a real moment. He was really starting to feel like they were connecting. On like a spiritual fucking level or whatever. Why did this keep happening to him? 

Maybe if he just ignored it, the screaming would stop. At least pipe in some music or something to drown it out. Except it didn't. Fuck me. Stepping aside was like peeling himself off swords sticking him to the wall.

His heart was pounding.

“Wait, wait,” he licked his lips and tasted a hint of blood surprisingly. Guess her nails had drawn red afterall. Or maybe she’d bit him? She seemed like a biter. He pushed his hands back through his hair. Sticky. He smirked at that.

But the screaming was real. And close enough to not tune it out.

“Alright. I gotta go shut him up. He better be getting his ears sliced off by cannibals in the rape dungeon or I’m going to kick some ass,” he glanced down Zephyr's body. Eyes landing at the hem of her dress. She might as well not even be wearing it now. Except the leather had no give. The shit women did. God he appreciated it.

Since he was the gentleman and all that, he figured it would be better if the smaller target went first, but Jaxen had the Ancient Power and she didn’t. So guess this one time it was worth him going first.

They rounded a corner, but all he saw was a guy about to get exactly what Jaxen just walked away from. Except it was weird he was screaming over it. A girl was hovering over him. And when her face tilted up, Jaxen wasn’t sure he saw exactly what he saw. Yeah. Those were fangs.

“Petra?” he said.

Except, Petra was dead. 

Maybe that rec was laced with the good shit.

[Zephyr]

[[ sorry. Been stuck in planning phase of a story and totally been putting off FA ]]

This shit was good. It made Zef forget about the man she grabbed and stoked her own fires. All she cared about was the body, and these fucking pants. Obviously made for looks and definitely not for ease of removal. Not ideal for impromptu sex.

"Ahhhhh!" The first blood curdling scream echoed down the chamber. It was distracting. But when it continued to bellow it annoyed Zef. Annoyed her even more when they left their spot against the wall. Zef tried to focus on the ass in front of her. The thought of what she wanted him to do to her. The screaming continued.

They passed through an doorway and there it was, the source of the sound. It looked romantic of sorts, a woman crouched down over a man about to kiss him. Except he was screaming, his eyes closed like he was asleep. It was the boy from earlier. Their approach was noticed by the woman. She hissed through fangs and blood red lips. Dranika! Fuck!

The visage of a monster was sobering. Zef pulled the silver pin from her hair and tossed it at the Dranaika. She dropped the boy and leapt to her feet in a crouch dodging the sharp pin as she predicted. At least the boy was safe. Zef had no way to kill one. No matter how many times she had tried, this was a kill she had not perfected. "They see the future, Don't think." She said out loud, more for herself, but to alert Jaxen to their actual abilities. He s tood there like a lump on a log. "Jaxen!" She shouted. Rumors spilled about the Atharim of a god killing a dranika with ease. Zef didn't know how much truth was to that. But right now. She just wanted to get out of this alive. And get back to doing what she came here to do.

[Jaxen Marveet]

(With Zephyr)


This chick certainly wasn’t Petra. One, she looked nothing like the fake Irish professor apart from the fangs. Hot though. For some reason those fangs were all Jaxen saw, a mouth full of fangs and a head full of adoration. He had to cringe just to shake it off until the flash of silver rattled the rest of the spell free.

The woman jumped aside, and while Jaxen only had eyes for her and those gnarly fangs, his ears were more than aware that the screaming had ceased. Thankfully. It saved him the effort of smacking the shit out of the kid with the Ancient Power.

The woman all but leaned casually aside, easily dodging Zef’s dart.

“They see the future. Don’t think!” She ordered. Fine by Jaxen. He had zero thoughts at the moment. Except he strongly considered running the hell out of there.

“Jaxen!” she shouted.

He stared at her in return. Shocked and confused.

 "What do you want me to do about it?" Other than being pissed over losing the hottest lay in months, it’s not like it was his fight here.

Zef wasn’t helpful though.

"I don't know.  Don't just stand there looking handsome with your dick hanging out,” she snapped, and his jaw dropped open. His hands immediately went to his crotch. Luckily, everything was tucked in nice and neat. Self-protective priority number one.

“Run or help but do something other than stand there. Be the fucking hero.” She shrugged and looked at him like she actually believed that bullshit. The hell ever gave her the ass-backward idea that he was some kind of hero?

"Supposedly your fucking gift can help kill one.  Otherwise get him the fuck out of here,” she pointed out the door.

Kill one?! He blinked and shook his head like he heard wrong.
“You want me to kill some chick just because she's a little thirsty?" He glanced back at the girl. While they argued, she’d arranged her clothes, innocently apart from the passed out kid she was about to lap up. Her hands were folded in front of her and she looked up with the widest doe eyes Jaxen ever saw.

Zef cut through his bullshit though. "You’re a dumbass. She can see the fucking future! She knows what I'm going to do before I do it, and she knows you don't believe me.”

Now that made him frown.
“I believe you! One of those bitches sucked on my neck back in Ireland… And not the hickey kind of sucking either!” Li had showed up just in time, luckily. He'd never been so happy to find another dude waiting for him in his hotel room.

He barely saw the motion. With a shrill scream in defiance, the chick jumped quick as lightning as if she’d pounced from all fours and practically landed on his shoulders. Like some nasty ass spider that dropped from the ceiling, Jaxen flailed to get her off, but she was screaming something about Sybaris and killing her sister and all that bull that technically had nothing to do with him.

He spun and tried to yank her off, but she dug in those claws like a cat hanging on to bare skin. Her hot breath brushed his neck and ear. “Get it off!” he yelled for Zephyr to help him. Meanwhile, he tried to explain himself. “I didn’t kill Sybaris. At most I was a co-killer,” he added. But the helpful addition didn’t exactly satisfy her need for vengeance.

She flung her weight, little as she was, one way and that. Then there was a yank on his ear and the spike of his earring clattered to the floor, torn free. Blood dripped down the side of his neck.

“BITCH,” he said. Now he was pissed.

And the Ancient Power boiled into his grasp, and he stopped moving just for a second. In that moment of stillness, right before the chick was about to snack down on a nice juicy bite of Jaxen throat, he rippled.

The space that was his body to split in two. A Jaxen took a step forward and another Jaxen took a step backward.

In between them, the drakaina fell to her knees. From a crouch, she looked up, and a very satisfying look of confusion befell her expression.

From within one of the Jaxens, Jaxen was quivering with the Ancient Power. They both rounded on her, circling while she glanced from one face to the other. She tried to swipe at his leg, but both copies hopped backward in unison out of her reach.

“Nah uh” they both spoke simultaneously. Then a wicked grin parted both their faces. They outright heehee’d, and both glanced at Zephyr. “Now this little trick is going to come in handy,” they added gleefully. Only now Jaxen realized that both of him were speaking in unison. Mirrors of each other.

Both Jaxens paused, and a furrow of thought darkened their gazes. After a moment, the Ancient Power split itself apart and one of them shook out their arms while the other rolled his neck.

“Ahh, that’s better,” the one on the left said.

“You are a handsome devil,” the one on the right replied.

“Why thank you!”

Of course, it was all a distraction. While the drakaina was occupied staring down one of the Jaxens, the other had snatched the spikes. Zephyr’s hair spike in one hand and Jaxen’s earring in the other.

And then they both slammed into the sides of the drakaina’s throat. Twin little frankenstein knobs jammed in.

The two Jaxens converged back into himself, standing over her as his fists came back to the side of his hips. Blood dripped down from his left ear. The shirt was ruined. Not to mention his fucking ear was on fire.

“See that coming?” he asked her as red gurgled up from her mouth. She quickly drowned on her own blood while Jaxen carefully stepped out of the mess. He’d already ruined the shirt. Didn’t want to have to toss the shoes too.

And he looked at Zephyr, eyes wide as he suddenly realized what had happened like she might have the answer to what to do next. 

Then he shrugged and put a hand to his ear. His fingers came away bloody.


((Power increased))

[Zephyr]

Zef snickered at Jaxen's reaction to her comment. Men were so predictable. She tried not to lick her lips, her body was still feeling the ache of need and this shit had to happen. She hadn't really known what to expect when she asked Jaxen to help. Fireballs and danger but not two of him. She stood slack jawed and watched him taunt the creature. She seemed confused as much as Zef was.

It should be in her nature to lay the god out on the ground while he was distracted. But then she'd have to deal with the harder to kill creature. But there was something more about Jaxen now. His power, while not as good at fighting monsters seemed useful. He was useful, and while not a hunter he might be controlled by womanly wiles. The whole scene made her want him more. Either that or it was the drugs playing with her mind.

She blinked when the creature fell to the ground gurgling on her own blood. The boy they'd saved lay thrashing in whatever nightmare his drug induced sleep provided him. They couldn't leave him lying right there.

Zef quickly sent a text off to the cleaners. She'd get the boy to a safer location and then get Jaxen fixed up. His ear looked gross. Zef tore a piece of clothe from the boys t-shirt and handed it Jaxen. "We'll get that stitched up right as rain. Someone will come clean up the mess and do the detail work. You and me and him need to scram." Zef didn't wait for Jaxen to offer any help she bent over, ass in the air, tantalizing the man behind her as she lifted the boy up and over her shoulder. He slump across her back, his arms dangling past her ass and his head precariously close to the hem of her short skirt.

The boy was heavy. And after the first turn or two Zef tossed him down on the ground with little care. Only enough so as not to damage the boy. He had friends in places she was ill prepared to fight just now. Maybe soon, she thought.

Zef turned to Jaxen and smiled. "Your place? I'll clean you up, stitch up the ear and then we'll see where the rest of the night takes us?"

[Jaxen Marveet]

It was one thing to throw a magic knife and someone shoves a body into the path. It was a completely other thing to jam spikes into flesh and watch the blood bubble up.

His eyes were enormous, jaw parted like he was rendered with rare speechless. I killed her. The thought was part shock and part horror at how easy it was. Monster or not, Jaxen quickly realized he did not like killing things.

Had he felt the same after Sybaris? Technically, no. He’d tried to tell this girl the same thing. Did she have a name? A family? She went from demure and innocent to raging attacker in the blink of an eye. She should have known that he’d react if attacked. Probably why she stayed so still at first, but she must have cared about Sybaris to react so violently to learning she was in company of her (alleged) killer.

He glanced at his hand and swallowed. It was his blood on his palm, but blood was on his hands anyway. It was a relief to find the rest of the ear still attached to his head. Earless wasn’t a nickname he wanted for himself.

More than that, the side of his head fucking throbbed. He silently watched Zef heft the kid’s limp body. Guy had to weigh a buck and a half and yet she carried him away, muscles bulging under the strain like some ancient warrior. That skimpy dress might as well have been armor and studs. That spike could have been a sword. Zef was magnificent.

Jaxen silently followed, and when she dumped the kid and returned her attention for him, pain and pondering had darkened his expression. Not even the tease dislodged what had dragged down his mood. The scratch marks on his cheek still ached. The ear bled through the offered rag quickly. He must have looked like he was returning from battle. If it didn’t hurt so much, he’d have been more smug about the look. At least if it was a battle, he’d won. Okay that helped a little.

Once they were within range of signal, he went to the effort to message his building that he was returning in need of a concierge doc. Like the 24/7 staff that fetched and delivered, the building services also offered all hours’ docs. A car was arranged just as quickly. Like hell was he walking all the way back again.

He was oddly quiet other than paying the driver extra for the mess on the seat dribbling out of his head. The high was long burned out and forget about the chub. He wanted a drink.

+++

The downtown district known as Moscow City was the mecca of modern civilization. Massive buildings, many world-record holders for their size and luxury, towered glittering above the river, the massive water that curled its way around the district like some slumbering black snake. High-rises that belied the mind twisted and turned, art-pieces in and of themselves. The one that Jaxen called home was lost in the middle somewhere. And each and every one of those buildings was built on a skeleton of Scion’s steel. No wonder his dad was filthy rich.

Jaxen owned a two-level chunk of the high-rise he called home - or so he did after his dad returned the keys to the kingdom in exchange for attending Ass-Candy’s ball. The door itself recognized him as he approached, and the hefty security system was lifted momentarily. Of course, the door system made note of female company as well, signaling the building staff to prepare the usual offerings that he tended to order in the middle of the night.

Liquor (and recs), of course, were already aplenty within the apartment. Fresh food and catering, on the other hand, would arrive shortly. Upon one of the balconies, like the others of the building, was a cantilevered pool suspended over the edge of the building-face. It glowed an eerie blue through the windows beyond when they entered. The walls of the apartment rippled and shone like they were living entities suspecting his whim and catering to the atmosphere he was probably most likely to anticipate. In this case, the vibe was sexy.

However, as soon as he entered, he paused at a control panel to override the system because there was a third person in their company. The doctor was waiting for him when they got off the elevator. The apartment was arranged such that the foyer and first level entertaining space greeted them. The style and decorations were sleek and modern, except for a display case housed a number of odd-antiques, many from India, but other cultures could be discerned among the pieces. A kitchen was nearby that appeared to be carved from a single, seamless unit. Smart technology was everywhere. No oven or refrigerator was apparent.

The doctor suggested they retreat to the main bathroom where there was plenty of counter space and bright lights. Jaxen explained where to go and he’d be there in a second. By then the ear was only oozing, him having pinched it so tight on the way back that it was practically numb. Dried blood made a river down his neck. Bits of it was stuck in the hair around the temple. He was still Jaxen, so he made the vibe look good, but he was ready for drugs.

And vodka. Lots of vodka.

He left Zef to make herself comfortable in the company of a thousand dollar bottle of vodka and an empty glass she could put to good use. Him? He stalked off to the bathroom already downing half a cup of ice cold crystal vodka on the way.

He’d stripped of the ruined shirt and let the doc have his way. A needle numbed the worst of it, but the mirrors made it impossible to not witness the doc slice the jagged wound up so the notch could be cleanly stitched back together. The towel draping his shoulder beneath was pink by the time it was done.

A line of black thread decorating the lobe was evidence of work done. Then the doctor left then, and Jaxen didn’t bother putting on a different shirt. He did change into shorts though. He’d cleaned up the blood best as possible short of taking a shower, and sank on his own couch nestling a fresh glass of vodka against his chest, dark eyes flat from studying Zephyr’s reaction to the transformed Jaxen.

If she wanted a hero, she got one. If she wanted a channeler, she had that too. There was just one thing left she didn’t have. The tattoo on his shoulder was an intricate snake skeleton. It began on his arm and curled around the cap of his shoulder, ending with the fanged head poised to strike on his pec. The ink was a synthetic metallic that seemed to dance under the lighting system and blue glow of the beyond pool. It rippled when he put the glass to his lips, looking her up and down.

“You’re one of those Atharim aren’t you?” he asked rather soberly despite the swimming of painkillers and vodka filling up his head. Other than the fact that the only good snake was a dead snake, if he cared, it didn’t yet show.

"If you're going to try and kill me, I'm pretty damn flattered," he said, a hint of challenge tugging the edges of his lips playfully. He honestly had no idea what she wanted. Beyond the obvious. If the tables were turned, supposed he'd get his kicks first and finish the dirty work second.



((Tattoo something like this but more intricate))

[Zephyr]

The towering heights of Moscow City still amazed her. She came from an island where trees and mountains were the tallest things in existence. She'd traveled the world, still man made structures were breath-taking, but she showed little emotion outward. Jaxen was quiet. Mournfully so -- he'd killed, perhaps for the first time. Perhaps not. He stood up to his capabilities, and still took her home with him. Said a lot about his priorities.

It wasn't the first time she'd entered one of these fancy buildings, but killing monsters rarely lead you inside them. Few and far between. Killing Gods was usually left in hospital beds of the suffering. Until recently none had proven so hard to kill. The Ascendancy, Jaxen and the Durante boy all had multiple attempts on their lives -- if you counted her failing attempt to take out the god before her. There were others too who had escaped their fates. How many more would survive to this power. And they had nothing to fight them. That had to change!

They were greeted by the doctor. Rich men afforded many things. Her battle care would have worked, but he'd probably not enjoy the scar -- but wasn't there a saying about chicks digging scars? Zef was left in the luxurious room with a glass and a bottle and she poured two fingers before downing it. And then pouring a second then turned to stare out into the darkness beyond the illuminated pool. It really was a nice place. A child could do no better than a father with this kind of money. Not that an Atharim needed money. The hunt was the life and the life was all that mattered.

But there was something about the knowing you wanted for nothing that appealed.

When Jaxen returned Zef turned to watch him sink into the couch. He was handsome if still a bit shaken. The tattoo glittered in the lights and was intricate which only a closer look could decern the details. Much like her own. Though nothing nearly so fancy sat upon her skin. Just the story of Atlantia and her clan that followed in her footsteps. He came right out and said it. He'd asked before, and he thought she was playing games. Now he said the thing he already know.

A knowing smile spread across her lips as she stood with an arm crossed across her body, and the other holding the drink she was idling sipping, tapping a nail against the glass. "Since the beginning of time." It may or may not be the truth, but for as long as anyone could remember long into legends and myths, they had been Atharim or whatever came before. "I didn't go to Kallisti to kill a godling. I went to make a deal. No reason that deal can't change hands. I scratch your back, you scratch mine."

Zef's hair hung past her shoulders her only weapons had been flung and unretrieved. They'd be returned to the armory after cleaning, and she'd just get another set. No loss there. But she was unarmed. "Besides. My only weapons are gone." She pouted tossing her hair over her shoulder as a reminder. She pulled the straps from the dress and let the fabric fall to the ground. "Unless you expect me to kill you with my bare hands." She could. Maybe. But not before he could wield the power of the gods and make mince meat of her.

"I want a godling Atharim. The boy on stage is too headstrong. And you as fabulous as you are, are not cut out for the work. Too pretty. So I offer a trade. I will get the Atharim off your back -- forget you were ever a godling, might even get you the inheritance I'm sure you deserve. You give me two children to carry on my line, in the way I see fit." Zef sipped the vodka and smiled at the man before her.

[Jaxen Marveet]

((With Zephyr))



He asked the question, but he didn’t really think she’d answer. He definitely didn’t expect her to reveal the details of her supervillain evil plan to dominate unsuspecting cocks for their happy juice. He should warn his friends. The more her story went on, the more Jaxen was sure he was being fucked with. And given he usually liked getting fucked, he really didn’t mind. So long as he was being fucked with, not fucked over, he didn't mind. In fact, he'd applaud her for the longevity of the fuckery. Sticking with the story was the stuff of legendary cons. Good for her.

One pull of a magic string and that red frock dropped faster than bombs on a Friday. Shit that was all it took? One little string held that whole thing together? God the things that women went through to be sexy. He appreciated the hell out of it. Speaking of, it was about that time when he was ready to get settled in for a long night of cardio. An exertion that she was in for a treat to get to experience. About this time he would normally scoot those hips down a little and shove a pillow behind his neck. Really get comfortable. Keep a drink handy. Hydration was important after all. That dark gaze of his slid up and down her naked body slick as ice. Speaking of, he tipped an ice cube back into his mouth, chomping on the bits just as she wrapped up the conditions of this deal.

“You give me two children to carry on my line in the way I see fit.”

And he nearly choked. Definitely coughed.

Her expression was dead serious. She’d been at Kallisti to bargain for Nox's equipment? That guy? The guy wasn't bad on the eyes, though he was no Aiden Finnegan, but he definitely didn't strike Jaxen as the kind to store up the strong swimmers to propagate the species. After swallowing the icy shards dragging down his throat like Petra’s claws, he placed the cup aside. But it wasn’t before his attention passed the soft part of her right under her navel trying to imagine it all big and bulgy. It was just wrong. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Zephyr didn’t strike him as the mamacita bouncing babies on those luscious hips type. No. Just no. Bullshit. She was fucking with him. Hilarious. A real comedian. She should do stand-up. Especially if it involved standing on stages and stripping before delivering the punchline. Just like what she'd just done. If so, she’d have a sold-out house nightly. God damn but she was so hot he could barely talk about it.

“You're joking,” he accused, shaking his head.

Her pokerface was outstanding.

“I’m not laughing. Are you? I don't figure you care too much for me and my kind. Nor care about being a father. I want a godling I can train.”

Now there were plenty of fuzzies in this world that bumped up on the regular with nothing to show for it. But just in case a dangerous one crossed his path, Jaxen had a cabinet full of pills and shit that made sure this exact outcome was avoided like the plague. There was no way she’d know, though most men with any sense of self-preservation were taking the same stuff as Jaxen. At worst she’d just give up on the cause and move on. And she’d not be able to know if he did his part of the deal for.. what? Umm, a few months? How long did that stuff work anyway? Except he was rather interested in this idea that she could pull one string and drop the entire Atharim off his back. She was good at pulling those strings, after all. Had one tied around his throat ever since Kallisti, and she happily waddled an adorable little Jaxen puppy after her. He pushed a hand through his hair, let the arm hang behind his head afterward.

He was quiet for a long, incredibly long, moment.

Then Jaxen climbed to his feet. 

His focus was sharp. Eyes narrow on her. He took a step closer. Then another. And another until he was close enough that those pointy nips brushed his bare chest. It made the hair on his arms stand up. An incredible tattoo decorated her skin. One he looked upon with a passing curiosity that said he’d learn about it later, but it was the rest of her body beneath that occupied his attention. He wasn’t that much taller, unless you count the coiffed hair which twisted high, but he looked down and deep into her eyes for so long he thought his heart might beat out of his skin just to hold back the building mischief it contained.

He could take the ruse no longer, and a fiendish smile broke like a dam. The Ancient Power was summoned. A little burst. Nothing major. She’d be able to take it. A burst of the Power shoved her against the glass, intending to knock the wind out of her lungs. A smooth step followed instantly and he pressed his weight into her so she was pinned against the panel to the balcony, and heart racing, he kissed her.

Technically, he didn’t answer, but also technically... he absolutely did.

[Zephyr]

She waited. The error of her actions sending dread down her spine as she stood watching with a seductive smile and naked in all her glory for a godling to make his decision. He could tear her to shreds in an moment -- though she was certain he did not have the stomach for it. At first he thought it was a joke. Funny haha, hell of a way to kill a god, seduce him into bed and then what poison him in his own house? Slit his throat with her finger nail? Obviously she was here fro some other reason. She'd not given him a reason to doubt her, but he'd been hunted. She'd have hunted him if she had the right tools -- which she did not. That was her reason for being here. It was firm in her mind. He was just a tool. She repeated -- a very handsome and sexy tool, but still a tool.

An invisible force slammed her against the cold glass wall and Zef managed to hold on to the glass despite the air leaving her lungs as Jaxen stepped into her. His gaze was the one from before. And his lips on hers was more than before. Renewed and invigorated passion. The passion that comes from nearly dying on top of what they'd felt before in the depths of hell before the creature interrupted their dangerous moment. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't exactly a no.

Zef pushed all doubts aside, the vodka dulled her senses only a smidge but the man before her he was all she wanted to focus on. It had been a while.

Hands, teeth and mouths explored. Zef was grateful for the change in clothes, she didn't need to peel Jaxen out of anything, but it was also a disappointment. He had looked very hot in the too tight leather which left nothing to the imagination. For that she was grateful.

It was a game of cat and mouse. Tired of being pressed to the now warm wall Zef pushed Jaxen towards the couch and he eagerly moved. The aggression from moments before dwindled away into a smirk of impending mischief. A smirk Zef was growing fond of. He was chaos incarnate and she liked it. Zef tugged off the remaining of Jaxen's clothes and smiled down on him, straddling his midsection and kissing him deep and hard.

The first time a swat of air landed on her backside she growled and glared at Jaxen. But the look in his eyes said it wasn't really a threat -- a reminder maybe of what she was playing with, but she dove deeper into the passion. Not that she had much choice, he'd flipped the tables again and she was on her back before she could blink. Breath taken from her lungs as he pressed himself against her and the passions resumed at heightened intensity.

Each shift in power only drove them deeper into the apartment Jaxen called home. Zef didn't pay much attention to locked doors or decor. There was only one thing on her mind. And what had started was no longer even a concern in the heat of the moment. All that mattered was the pleasure mixed with fear.

Zef wasn't sure where they were other than a floor, she bit and nipped at his chest making her way up towards his lips. Jaxen mumbled. "I want you to."

She looked up at him. "What me to what?"

The mischievous grin played across his lips. "Hurt me." And things got rougher on both sides. Nothing harmful, but the aggression grew.

Every time he used the power to flick her skin, smack her ass or caress her parts to made her growl, but each time the surprise only made things heavier and hotter and she rather enjoyed the surprise of it all.

But the truth of it all was, Zef didn't want to hurt Jaxen, not in any meaningful way. Pleasurable and fun and push the boundaries yes, but hurt no that thought fled shortly after meeting him.

[[ Jaxen modded with permission ]]

[[ I'll let you finish ]]

[Jaxen Marveet]

They went everywhere. There wasn’t a single inch of that apartment that was still a virgin, and Jaxen made sure to introduce Zef to that slutty condo so she could do whatever the fuck she wanted to it. He just happened to be there for her ride.

At one point, he wrapped those muscular legs around his waist and hoisted her to the wall. Artwork rattled loose, swinging precariously by her head. A second later, it dropped to the floor and he had to kick it away just to free his foot.

In the kitchen, he tossed her on the counter. The vodka bottle was barely saved by a twist of the Ancient Power, but another one wasn’t so lucky. It clattered and rolled away. Their partially finished glasses followed. Half-melted ice pooled, rolling behind her back as he hovered over. He only noticed when his fingers grew slippery from the spill, only for a wicked smile to be the premise for where he put the hand next. He practically lifted her up from the wrist, and drew immense satisfaction from the look on her expression when he licked the combined taste from his fingers afterward.

The sword of light was propped against a chair in his bedroom. The lights cast shadows across Zef’s curves. At one point, when Jaxen rummaged through a drawer for a stashed bottle of water - because hydration was important and he was breathing hard when he chugged it down - he remembered it was there.

Oriena told him that he was too delicate for the painful kind of play. Oh if she could see him now. Not that he wouldn’t mind calling her about then, but he selfishly wanted Zef to himself. Next time though. But for Oriena, maybe it wasn’t the play that was the problem. Maybe she just didn’t know how to not break her toys.

He mused at that thought and decided it was time to bring it up with someone else instead. Back at the club, Zef said she wouldn’t hurt him.. unless he wanted it.
“I want you to,” he pinned her wrists down and spoke against her lips.

”Want me to what?” she asked. The taste on her wet lips sent shudders through his body.

Jaxen grazed his cheek against hers in demonstration, the scrub of facial hair brushed from the chiseled shadow of his jaw. The lines she left were still there. They long ago stopped weeping red, but the marks of her nails remained. Then from her trapped wrist, he pulled her arm low and used the captured hand to cup something else instead.

“Hurt me,” he replied.

And she did. He gasped in shock, eyes flaring wide above an approving smile. Oriena didn’t know what she was missing.

The bed was swiped clean. Not that there was much more than a nice set of sheets and a thin blanket. Jaxen slept warm after all. If he had any clue at all what the sword did, he’d have shown it off for her. Instead, without the light of the ancient power, it looked like any other weapon. Except it was hella cool. All celt and designed with etching and shit. Zef was bent in front of him, her hips angled back against his. It was hot as hell but when he used the Ancient Power to lift the sword and grab it, he held it over his head like a fucking dungeons and dragons nerd and laughed to himself in a mirror. Really soaked in the reflection.

There were only a few moments in life that really etched themselves in your brain. This sight was one such moment that he was sure he was going to remember when he was a bent-backed old man on his death bed bragging to the old wrinkleballs next to him about how there was this one time he pumped a baby into the hottest chick in the world while posing with a magic sword overhead. That’s the stuff of legends right there.

He laughed and tossed the sword across the room. It clattered to the floor most loudly as he grabbed those hips and babied it up.