01-18-2019, 06:24 PM
Two men exited.
Intel had suggested company, since Jaxen Marveet had not left the theatre alone, but apparently they were leaving. Nhysa filed away the information from their brief parting words without much current interest, beyond the fact that Jaxen would be missed by morning. Her gaze roamed, from the polite greeting (cute) to the twine of their hands, the twitch of a smile softening her lips as she repaid with a lascivious wink. Tar like the cabaret stuck; it was they who ought to stay out of trouble. They were too cute a pair to find themselves at the end of the Custody’s sword-arm.
Speaking of.
A smile bloomed like the first caress of shadows at sundown for the quarry laid before her. A menial and bloodless task it might be, but the glint in his eye and wry twist of his grin at least promised a pleasant meander towards culmination. At least for her. She followed him into the apartment; let her attention wash over its innards with a flush of approval just shy of awe. His profile suggested a certain measure of materialism. But what did he cherish most?
Her gaze tugged back, smile genuine, a bridge to something playful. She gestured the gold vodka bottle in her grip, palm wrapped snug around its neck. “They don’t break out the russo baltique for just anyone.” The tease in her eye was a warm and easy welcome. “So tell me; what’s so special about you, Jaxen Marveet?”
Intel had suggested company, since Jaxen Marveet had not left the theatre alone, but apparently they were leaving. Nhysa filed away the information from their brief parting words without much current interest, beyond the fact that Jaxen would be missed by morning. Her gaze roamed, from the polite greeting (cute) to the twine of their hands, the twitch of a smile softening her lips as she repaid with a lascivious wink. Tar like the cabaret stuck; it was they who ought to stay out of trouble. They were too cute a pair to find themselves at the end of the Custody’s sword-arm.
Speaking of.
A smile bloomed like the first caress of shadows at sundown for the quarry laid before her. A menial and bloodless task it might be, but the glint in his eye and wry twist of his grin at least promised a pleasant meander towards culmination. At least for her. She followed him into the apartment; let her attention wash over its innards with a flush of approval just shy of awe. His profile suggested a certain measure of materialism. But what did he cherish most?
Her gaze tugged back, smile genuine, a bridge to something playful. She gestured the gold vodka bottle in her grip, palm wrapped snug around its neck. “They don’t break out the russo baltique for just anyone.” The tease in her eye was a warm and easy welcome. “So tell me; what’s so special about you, Jaxen Marveet?”