04-27-2010, 06:12 PM
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WC 790.
His words spoke truth. Despite the mumble of intoxication clearly taking its toll on his speech, there was wisdom in what he spoke. Staring blankly over at her companion, his posture relaxed and slightly unsteady – a sway in his shoulders, Lucia's emerald coals bore into his soul. His smile, a twisted grin of sorts, lay sweetly on his face; it distorted the image of immorality, or illegality. The atmosphere was placid, and as she parted her mouth to speak, her body jolted. A chill ran down her spine, quickly passing as the mattress beneath them shifted. He had laid back against the wall, and that on its own was more comfort than any drugs. “That is sooo true,” her words were extended, the smoke slipping out of her nostrils like a dragon. She smiled, unsure of what else she should say to his words. There was something, buried deep in her subconscious, but the burn of tobacco on her tongue remained too strong of a distraction. “...Damn,” she finally managed to whisper, glancing across the body of the male, admiring how his fur seemed to ripple and dance – clearly not reality. “...I've forgotten what I was going to say!”
Another smile seemed to crawl atop his maw. It seemed to sprawl across like a drunken spider; a chuckle escaping the female's throat. Watching steadily as he shifted onto an arm, Lucia pondered momentarily on the idea that he could of perhaps been a model in another life. Deep in the abyss of her mind, she pictured this beautiful male posing for some kind of advertisement – perhaps a stylish pair of jeans, or a black vest top. She felt her innards twinge. It wasn't unusual for her to picture these things, and the images that followed (aided by the beautiful drugs he supplied) were definitely not advertisement material. The thoughts she possessed were blank and naked; she could feel her skin flush. Darting her eyes away, her gaze wobbling as she turned her attention toward her rucksack, she felt her heart slam against her ribcage. If only they knew how dirty she could be; it was a talent in itself really, and it was a secret she prized herself on. Vanity was not a sin.
Shifting her body slightly, she extended an arm into the tattered green bag. Fiddling with the myriad of things that were piled into it; books, matches, daggers, and various other things, Lucia's digits finally curled around the cold glass bottle of joy. Pulling it out carefully, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels came into view. Smiling to herself, her body now calm and her thoughts put to rest, Lucia placed the bottle in her lap and turned back to the male who seemed to thoroughly enjoy her company. Twitching her auds, she recalled his words in her mind – having paid them no mind before. She had been on another planet shortly before. Catching his gaze, her jade orbs shimmered – her eyelids heavily placed across them, adding to the absinthe shade as they clashed with ebony. “Thank you,” she whispered, a hint of shyness in her tone; she never did take too well to compliments. “You're a handsome, very... wonderful bloke yourself,” she grinned, genuinely speaking her words; she couldn't lie; the drugs would not allow such things. Thank God for small miracles; there was confidence back in her system now, and she prayed it would stick around.
“Jack Daniels?” she asked plainly, beginning to undo the lid. She smiled politely, nodding her head as she listened intently to his giving of the joint. With the lid unscrewed, she threw it with a clunk on the floor and momentarily switched her gaze as it spun around before flattening itself upside-down. Glancing back up at Raze, she couldn't help but smile; there was something ever so charming about him – she couldn't put her finger on it. Lifting up her hand to her face, she pursed the joint between her lips again, savoring the sweet taste of narcotics and tobacco. Inhaling deeply, she felt herself spin around, the onset of vertigo; a good sign. Her smile grew, her canines peering out of their ebony blanket; a solid grin atop her maw. The joint remaining between her lips. “So who's the lucky woman?” she sneaked the question in quickly, curiosity eating her from the inside-out. Smoke bellowing from her mouth as she spoke, her voice light and whispered. She had to know. Drugs made the mind think weird things; and this was no different. She was happy, chilled – remotely attracted to the stranger whom had made comfort with her. It was nice... no, it was excellent.
WC 790.
His words spoke truth. Despite the mumble of intoxication clearly taking its toll on his speech, there was wisdom in what he spoke. Staring blankly over at her companion, his posture relaxed and slightly unsteady – a sway in his shoulders, Lucia's emerald coals bore into his soul. His smile, a twisted grin of sorts, lay sweetly on his face; it distorted the image of immorality, or illegality. The atmosphere was placid, and as she parted her mouth to speak, her body jolted. A chill ran down her spine, quickly passing as the mattress beneath them shifted. He had laid back against the wall, and that on its own was more comfort than any drugs. “That is sooo true,” her words were extended, the smoke slipping out of her nostrils like a dragon. She smiled, unsure of what else she should say to his words. There was something, buried deep in her subconscious, but the burn of tobacco on her tongue remained too strong of a distraction. “...Damn,” she finally managed to whisper, glancing across the body of the male, admiring how his fur seemed to ripple and dance – clearly not reality. “...I've forgotten what I was going to say!”
Another smile seemed to crawl atop his maw. It seemed to sprawl across like a drunken spider; a chuckle escaping the female's throat. Watching steadily as he shifted onto an arm, Lucia pondered momentarily on the idea that he could of perhaps been a model in another life. Deep in the abyss of her mind, she pictured this beautiful male posing for some kind of advertisement – perhaps a stylish pair of jeans, or a black vest top. She felt her innards twinge. It wasn't unusual for her to picture these things, and the images that followed (aided by the beautiful drugs he supplied) were definitely not advertisement material. The thoughts she possessed were blank and naked; she could feel her skin flush. Darting her eyes away, her gaze wobbling as she turned her attention toward her rucksack, she felt her heart slam against her ribcage. If only they knew how dirty she could be; it was a talent in itself really, and it was a secret she prized herself on. Vanity was not a sin.
Shifting her body slightly, she extended an arm into the tattered green bag. Fiddling with the myriad of things that were piled into it; books, matches, daggers, and various other things, Lucia's digits finally curled around the cold glass bottle of joy. Pulling it out carefully, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels came into view. Smiling to herself, her body now calm and her thoughts put to rest, Lucia placed the bottle in her lap and turned back to the male who seemed to thoroughly enjoy her company. Twitching her auds, she recalled his words in her mind – having paid them no mind before. She had been on another planet shortly before. Catching his gaze, her jade orbs shimmered – her eyelids heavily placed across them, adding to the absinthe shade as they clashed with ebony. “Thank you,” she whispered, a hint of shyness in her tone; she never did take too well to compliments. “You're a handsome, very... wonderful bloke yourself,” she grinned, genuinely speaking her words; she couldn't lie; the drugs would not allow such things. Thank God for small miracles; there was confidence back in her system now, and she prayed it would stick around.
“Jack Daniels?” she asked plainly, beginning to undo the lid. She smiled politely, nodding her head as she listened intently to his giving of the joint. With the lid unscrewed, she threw it with a clunk on the floor and momentarily switched her gaze as it spun around before flattening itself upside-down. Glancing back up at Raze, she couldn't help but smile; there was something ever so charming about him – she couldn't put her finger on it. Lifting up her hand to her face, she pursed the joint between her lips again, savoring the sweet taste of narcotics and tobacco. Inhaling deeply, she felt herself spin around, the onset of vertigo; a good sign. Her smile grew, her canines peering out of their ebony blanket; a solid grin atop her maw. The joint remaining between her lips. “So who's the lucky woman?” she sneaked the question in quickly, curiosity eating her from the inside-out. Smoke bellowing from her mouth as she spoke, her voice light and whispered. She had to know. Drugs made the mind think weird things; and this was no different. She was happy, chilled – remotely attracted to the stranger whom had made comfort with her. It was nice... no, it was excellent.