12-11-2013, 12:31 PM
Who knew that White could be so civil? Jaxen sure as shit didn't. A gleam in his eye and a handshake? And no karate chop? Hell, for White, they were way past civility. Practically ready to braid each other's hair and wage epic pillow-battle. Hell yes! Jaxen would count the night as a success. Never mind the finger-crunching grip that came along with the handshake; White was a big guy. Probably just didn't know his own strength. That, and, Jaxen's line of work led to fingers slender and shapely; and were rather easily crushable.
Sore, Jaxen gladly withdrew his hand, and twirled his fingers open and closed a few times to make sure everything was still attached. That kind of injury would be a shame - for Oriena. Shit, it'd be a shame for him too. He was rather fond of his hands. They came in rather useful when White's mom was out of town.
So a gentlemen's handshake in the presence of fairer folk - Spectra and himself that is; fair didn't quite describe everything that was Oriena - and White turned into a tiger pacing the length of the cage.
But tigers were much more entertaining when they had a circus act to perform. And ringmaster Jaxen was in the mood to crack the whip. So, on to White's first trick.
White's answer watered Jaxen's smile wide, which grew proud and boastful. Trouble to Jaxen was as nice a compliment as he could receive. "Ah, White. I had no idea you could be so flattering."
He shot approval at Spectra, "he's a keeper, Miss Lin, this one. Good with his hands too."
Jaxen could attest, which he emphasized with a mischevous wink. The guy could render regular mortals unconscious with the lift of a finger. Though hopefully Spectra didn't see that side of him. Unless she liked it rough, that is. But he'd seen her movies, and something told Jaxen she might.
But the rest of White's answer was woefully lacking in a minor detail - the truth. For Oriena's sake, of course, Jaxen piped up to help his old friend out. "Let's not be modest, White."
Jax went on to explain, "It was an impressive Zippo. Well cared for, but for a few scratches here and there."
How sad. But when did something sentimental have to be in mint condition?
"But let's set the record straight, White. I'm much appreciative of that Zippo. Shackled and chained in a shithole dungeon, it isn't exactly easy to break free - even for me. If it weren't for that zippo, well--"
he shrugged but clearly was riding the mischief high to tell stories like the two men were old brothers in battle. Which in a sense, could be true.
Of course their camaraderie needed exemplified. "--I suppose I could say I owe that zippo my life."
As its owner, that claim could also be laid at White's feet. But screw destiny, serendipity could suck his dick for all Jaxen cared. Jaxen got himself in trouble and he got himself out of trouble. But it was too much fun to torture White about it in the meantime.
He moved closer. It wasn't camouflaged by distraction. He moved in the way regular people did, but aimed for the pocket where Jaxen guessed Hood's zippo to be nestled. Apparently the guy'd never heard of electronic cigs these days. That or he carried the treasure around like a keepsake. Which was fine. Even tigers had their security blankets.
When he crossed that invisible barrier that was White's personal space, there was a distance in Jaxen's eye that sharpened with his senses. He half expected to finally feel that karate chop take off a hand. Or maybe another elbow to the temple. If a limb flailed, this time Jaxen intended to duck; he was ready.
But nothing happened. He pat the chest of Hood's tasteful suit, and sure enough, a thin square was nestled behind the coat.
Jaxen stayed there a moment, eye to daring eye, in case White changed his mind and decided his patience had finally been breached. The surge of mischief dampened any fear from when he first saw the man. Jaxen had balls, but he wasn't an idiot. Seeking the edge of what was allowed was a dangerous cliff to walk, and he intended to piss off the side rather than fall off.
But White did nothing, and the thrill of success vanquished every other emotion. The guy gave Jaxen an enormous leash: from helping himself to cigars to a pat-down when he was well and truly aware that Jaxen could have swiped pretty much anything on the man, and probably gotten away with it too. Lucky for him, Jaxen had his own conquest for the night and wasn't too bedazzled by the jewelry on his arm. Otherwise, it might have been Spectra that he tried to slip in his pocket.
Freed and in tact, Jaxen backed to a more normal spacing. Supposing it was time to let the merry couple on their way. "You two kids have fun."
His grin was triumphant, if a little disappointed the two women didn't jump one another. But that was fine. Besides, hunting was far from over for the night.
His wink for Oriena was cut short once more by another surge of the almighty force that drew them away from the heart of the party in the first place. He nodded back the way they came. "Fuck me, but can everyone --"
he blanked for a second. Coming up with a creative term for what they did was going to require more sober thought than tonight allowed "--you know?"
and shrugged.
By the time they made it back, the crowd had quieted, and a sneaking feeling itched the back of his neck that something was more off than usual. But there was no point being melodramatic about it. He grinned, turning to Oriena. "Can't be out of champagne already?"
<small>((Hood's moding done with permission))</small>
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Dec 11 2013, 12:34 PM.
Sore, Jaxen gladly withdrew his hand, and twirled his fingers open and closed a few times to make sure everything was still attached. That kind of injury would be a shame - for Oriena. Shit, it'd be a shame for him too. He was rather fond of his hands. They came in rather useful when White's mom was out of town.
So a gentlemen's handshake in the presence of fairer folk - Spectra and himself that is; fair didn't quite describe everything that was Oriena - and White turned into a tiger pacing the length of the cage.
But tigers were much more entertaining when they had a circus act to perform. And ringmaster Jaxen was in the mood to crack the whip. So, on to White's first trick.
White's answer watered Jaxen's smile wide, which grew proud and boastful. Trouble to Jaxen was as nice a compliment as he could receive. "Ah, White. I had no idea you could be so flattering."
He shot approval at Spectra, "he's a keeper, Miss Lin, this one. Good with his hands too."
Jaxen could attest, which he emphasized with a mischevous wink. The guy could render regular mortals unconscious with the lift of a finger. Though hopefully Spectra didn't see that side of him. Unless she liked it rough, that is. But he'd seen her movies, and something told Jaxen she might.
But the rest of White's answer was woefully lacking in a minor detail - the truth. For Oriena's sake, of course, Jaxen piped up to help his old friend out. "Let's not be modest, White."
Jax went on to explain, "It was an impressive Zippo. Well cared for, but for a few scratches here and there."
How sad. But when did something sentimental have to be in mint condition?
"But let's set the record straight, White. I'm much appreciative of that Zippo. Shackled and chained in a shithole dungeon, it isn't exactly easy to break free - even for me. If it weren't for that zippo, well--"
he shrugged but clearly was riding the mischief high to tell stories like the two men were old brothers in battle. Which in a sense, could be true.
Of course their camaraderie needed exemplified. "--I suppose I could say I owe that zippo my life."
As its owner, that claim could also be laid at White's feet. But screw destiny, serendipity could suck his dick for all Jaxen cared. Jaxen got himself in trouble and he got himself out of trouble. But it was too much fun to torture White about it in the meantime.
He moved closer. It wasn't camouflaged by distraction. He moved in the way regular people did, but aimed for the pocket where Jaxen guessed Hood's zippo to be nestled. Apparently the guy'd never heard of electronic cigs these days. That or he carried the treasure around like a keepsake. Which was fine. Even tigers had their security blankets.
When he crossed that invisible barrier that was White's personal space, there was a distance in Jaxen's eye that sharpened with his senses. He half expected to finally feel that karate chop take off a hand. Or maybe another elbow to the temple. If a limb flailed, this time Jaxen intended to duck; he was ready.
But nothing happened. He pat the chest of Hood's tasteful suit, and sure enough, a thin square was nestled behind the coat.
Jaxen stayed there a moment, eye to daring eye, in case White changed his mind and decided his patience had finally been breached. The surge of mischief dampened any fear from when he first saw the man. Jaxen had balls, but he wasn't an idiot. Seeking the edge of what was allowed was a dangerous cliff to walk, and he intended to piss off the side rather than fall off.
But White did nothing, and the thrill of success vanquished every other emotion. The guy gave Jaxen an enormous leash: from helping himself to cigars to a pat-down when he was well and truly aware that Jaxen could have swiped pretty much anything on the man, and probably gotten away with it too. Lucky for him, Jaxen had his own conquest for the night and wasn't too bedazzled by the jewelry on his arm. Otherwise, it might have been Spectra that he tried to slip in his pocket.
Freed and in tact, Jaxen backed to a more normal spacing. Supposing it was time to let the merry couple on their way. "You two kids have fun."
His grin was triumphant, if a little disappointed the two women didn't jump one another. But that was fine. Besides, hunting was far from over for the night.
His wink for Oriena was cut short once more by another surge of the almighty force that drew them away from the heart of the party in the first place. He nodded back the way they came. "Fuck me, but can everyone --"
he blanked for a second. Coming up with a creative term for what they did was going to require more sober thought than tonight allowed "--you know?"
and shrugged.
By the time they made it back, the crowd had quieted, and a sneaking feeling itched the back of his neck that something was more off than usual. But there was no point being melodramatic about it. He grinned, turning to Oriena. "Can't be out of champagne already?"
<small>((Hood's moding done with permission))</small>
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Dec 11 2013, 12:34 PM.