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A glittering spider
#6
The next twenty minutes passed with Spectra immersed in the spotlight. She was the moon reflecting the light of the club. Spectra's glittering smile alone might as well be the bright orb in the night sky, drowning out every other pinprick attempting to twinkle. Men abandoned their dates for the mere chance to brush Spectra's hair from her shoulder, or they found themselves drawn to her side when left to the freedoms while herds of gazelle attended the powder room. Though these men never left with Spectra, her ghost followed them home. That night, when they fucked their girlfriends, their mind's eye painted Spectra's long limbs wrapped tight around their bodies. The shortest of moments and their fantasies were hers forever. As the nip of a tiny spider could fell a grown man foolishly tromping through the jungle, Spectra's power was immeasurable until it was too late.

Spectra herself with her dozens of roving eyes was immune to the web she spun. The flies were caught in the strands, but she let them fidget and struggle, especially when noted that her steps were drawn to the periphery.

Hood's rendezvous concluded and she followed his trailing around the lounge as he sought her out. She was not at the bar, of course. She drank naught but water; her luscious silhouette was too pure to defile with alcohol.

One of her companions had been regaling her with the tale of his training that catapulted him from amateur athlete to olympic champion. Cross-country skiing was his challenge of choice. The russian was a lean, handsome man and the face of major brand sponsorships, but Spectra placed a finger to his lips mid-anecdote, and smiled with the hardest of hearts. "Nobody cares, darling."

The blood drained from his face, and to his everlasting shame, Spectra left him alone with his immense disappointment. A puppy abandoned in exchange for one better than he.

A languid, familiar palm touched Hood's arm when she reached him, and drew him around. Knowing what she did of him, she assumed he was aware of her approach though she did nothing outwardly obvious to draw such attention...except to warm the air with her volcanic presence.

"For un muerto," she greeted him with unmistakable appreciation, gesturing a poised sweep up and down the sleek line of the man before her, eyes sparkling with these turn of events, and the languid beauty of her heavy accent, "you look," she paused with the attempt to pluck the english from the myriad of phrases swimming in her mind, "delicioso."
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Messages In This Thread
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-02-2013, 01:49 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-03-2013, 02:47 PM
[No subject] - by Hood - 09-03-2013, 10:00 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-04-2013, 03:20 PM
[No subject] - by Hood - 09-05-2013, 06:19 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-07-2013, 01:12 PM
[No subject] - by Hood - 09-12-2013, 11:10 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-14-2013, 10:18 AM
[No subject] - by Hood - 09-20-2013, 09:24 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 09-21-2013, 07:42 AM
[No subject] - by Hood - 09-27-2013, 06:42 PM
[No subject] - by Silas Kole - 10-02-2013, 01:10 PM
[No subject] - by Spectra Lin - 10-03-2013, 12:17 PM
[No subject] - by Hood - 10-12-2013, 09:11 AM

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