[html] Sitting in his study, swords crossed on the wood-panelled wall behind him, Bane poured himself another glass of scotch and eyed the paper he was writing. Even through his glasses, it looked a little blurry, and he wondered if it meant his eyesight was getting worse. It was something he worried about. Downing the last of his dinner, he shoved back the seat he was sitting in and stood. It was then, when the world reacted a little slower than it should have, that he realised how much he'd gone through. So much for an early night tonight.
Restless, he went for a walk. The bottle went with him. He knew a place some ways away from here, a place that seemed so far above the world. His feet took him there and Bane didn't fight. He never fought. He knew better -- it is written. The old building (god knows what it had been) wasn't the destination, but he found his way easily to the roof, sitting comfortably with his legs over the edge. He lit a cigarette as he sat there, savouring the taste he had gone so long without, but had never quite forgotten. The night felt peculiar, the air was whispering words he couldn't quite hear through the noise in his head. He waited, with the quiet acceptance of a man who knew better, for something to change. |
[/html]
[html] i kind-of want to do driving under the influence, lol
Night was when the devil came alive and whispered sweet nothings into the children's ears. Hailfax was a haven for her, in her self-made bed of old clothes and broken bottles, safe from the judgments of others. But she still sought it anyway, dared the devil to take her places, and left her sordid room to breath the city air. Her dress had returned, deep pockets lined with her vices. Sabeen had not expected to happen upon the company of any others, but a scent was carried to her and she followed it unquestioningly, to find the form of the man on the roof with a bottle of liqueur.
She was too short to climb from the outside and didn't want to go through the building, so she settled for titling her head up, tasting the stale city air. 'Gute nacht,' the woman called, her voice startling herself against the stillness of the night. If popular during the day, it became an empty asylum at night. 'Who are you?' [/html]
[html] let's do it then, it sounds like it'd be fun XD
The instinct (awake tonight) told him she was coming. She -- he didn't know who she was, but it was irrelevant, he knew -- was coming closer every second, and he could smell her now, and then see her, clear in the distance despite the darkness that enveloped them. Tilting the bottle back, the black wolf drank more, but his eyes didn't move from her as he did this. He was curious, it was alight inside him like a fire, and when she spoke his mouth twitched in a half-smile. It was an amused and contemplative expression. German. Hmm. "Gott kvöld," he replied evenly, and he tilted his head a little, as if intrigued with her. Women who intrigued him were all the same sort; dark, with a depth he couldn't quite penetrate. "I," and then a pause, as if he had to consider her question, "I am a King, a martyr," or one day I will be. There was some sarcasm in his voice, but it was light, casual, and he was still smiling faintly. Standing up, he returned to the ladder and climbed back down, circling the side of the building to reach her. "What of you, my lady?"
|
[/html]
[html] sorry for the delay, been a busy week.
The man's reply was pleasing, although the tongue was not her own. He spoke again, and her eyebrows quirked up, a smirk appearing on her split lips. Sabeen could not entirely tell if he was serious, although she sensed some sarcasm. He came down from the roof then, and her wheat eyes fell to his bottle of alcohol, her throat seeking a sip. But she wouldn't ask, yet. The lady listened to his question and didn't speak for a moment. 'I'm a seraphim and the daughter of Asmondai.' Lies, but perhaps they could be true in a higher dimension. For certainly she had on many occasions been forced to witness the ranks of angels and demons battle and had come to associate with both.
Sabeen felt in her pocket for her ficklest friend and curled her fingers around the bag, not pulling it out. She cast a sideways glance to the man, still smirking lightly. 'So, noblest King, may I ask for your name?'
[/html]
[html] Even when drunk, even when lightheaded or high as a kite, Bane retained that darkness about him, the surrealism that affected the air around him in peculiar ways. He retained that intensity in his eyes, the piercing blue that could see straight through steel. It was there then when she spoke in response, and he laughed a quiet laugh that was neither derisive nor sarcastic. No, this was perfect, this angel that Fate had given him tonight. He had once told a woman he knew the future; he knew this, now, what was to happen, and he knew he would enjoy playing along with God's script here. What to learn tonight?
"King's fine, Angel," he told her as he moved closer, a smile pleasantly twisting his features. "Are you here to bring me to your father? I've never particularly believed in Hell, Angel, but I suppose if anyone's to convince me..." He trailed off, his eyes set steadily on her face, her body, unmoving. The city had nothing to offer any longer. With neither words nor acknowledgement, he offered her his bottle, knowing she would accept.
|
[/html]
[html]
She breathed, sucked in the King's darkness as she had Corvus Vendetta's. But this man's was different, it was not composed of emptiness and nothingness but meaning, poignant, and she found she preferred it. It was not as holy or pure, but it was stronger, drove her even closer. Her own darkness was spun from the delicate weaves of chaos that formed structure, that could be driven apart in a millisecond but still held her together. She brushed a loose hair from her eyes, lifting an eyebrow at the King. So tonight they were embodiments and not bodies.
She couldn't help but return with a meaner version of his smile, her face not given to expressions of sincerity, so that even in her happiest moments she looked mean. 'He's not one for company,' she cackled, a startling sound. 'Though I'd be willing to risk his wrath... for a nonbeliever,' she moved closer to him and slid the bottle from his hand to hers, dipping it back to take a long, hefty swig. She held it back out, wiping her mouth out. The alcohol would soon be gone, she knew. 'I have something that could help take the edge off,' she murmured and reached for her vices, loosely holding it in front of her. [/html]
[html] Her laughter and her smile caught him off guard and he watched her with interest, even through the haze in his mind; he had known women in the past, and they were all different, but some were more unique than others. This one held within her things, secrets, he somehow knew would make most shy away. He wondered where she was from, what had lent her the sharpness in her eyes. He wondered, immediately following, if it mattered.
His smile remained as she drank, his eyes trained steadily on her as she spoke. He barely heard the words. The alcohol loosened his thoughts and chased away inhibitions; though he didn't wear his glasses, he could see her curves just fine, and that, coupled with her scent in the air, was enough. Bane was a strong man, all muscle, shoulders and arms he had worked hard to define and maintain -- how difficult would it be to overpower her? There, in the city, nobody would be listening, and nobody would care. But for now, he simply entertained these thoughts, knowing anticipation would only make it better. Something came from her pocket then. He looked at it and his mind shifted direction, temporarily. He smiled; it had been a long time since he'd been given the luxury of anything but his painkillers. The smile was enough of an answer, to him. Stepping aside, he wandered a bit down the road, and sat down on the hood of an old truck, offering her a seat beside him.
|
[/html]
She gave herself to the drink, although it would take more than the small amount she had consumed to get her truly drunk. Of course, that was why she had a pocket full of sunshine, to aid in her pursuit of oblivion tonight. Sabeen followed the King willingly, unworried. Sex had occurred to her, somewhere, but she would leave that in his capable hands. The lady climbed up next to him, breathing in the musty smell of old truck. She looked at it briefly, studied it's rusty form. She wondered if it stilled worked. Having not been raised as a luperci or taught human history, she had never had the experience of driving or being around cars. Wheat-colored eyes reaffixed on the dark man, her fingers working to quickly fix the hit.
As she finished up on herself, she turned to him. 'Want some?' she asked, watching him through heavy eyes, as the world started to distort at the corners.
[html] After leaving his father and forgetting his purpose, Bane had spent a short period of time with a group of youths who had no reason to live but to find creative ways to die. She made him recall these days of his early teenage years, and the nostalgia was a strange taste on his tongue. He had experimented enough with a variety of things -- drugs or not -- and accepted her offer with an intense curiosity. There were some things you only learned about people when they were too far gone to hide. She reminded him of someone he had known once.
Shortly thereafter, the partially drunk and undeniably high Bane surveyed the street with eyes that were fogged around the edges, even through the glasses. He stood and took them off, leaving them on top of a mailbox on the corner. He wasn't three steps from her, revelling in his experience he hadn't allowed himself for a good amount of time. The morphine he was used to. It was like breathing. This was like breathing when you had been suffocating for so long. He smiled at her, his eyes vague, but the intensity still hid there behind the clear sky-blue his mother had given him. "Ever driven a car before?" His conscious mind was barely aware of the things he was saying. It was idle conversation, to pass the time until he refused to control himself any longer. His eyes weren't focused on her face, but rather the more appealing parts of her body. He knew she would probably notice, but no part of him actually cared.
|
[/html]
She was sinking into bliss, her limbs unblossoming as they spun, following the king. Sabeen smirked to herself for no particular reason, recalling Drake for no reason. Her nighttime companion was nothing like her hotheaded mate, and it was that which made him so attractive. Fingers ghosted out to brush him, but she couldn't feel him, not really, nor could she tell how close or how far he was. Colors became so much more beautiful at night. She brought her hand back to her chest and let it lie there, tinkering with the thin strands of fate pulling her forward.
They were in the car, now, she thought. No, wait, they weren't, but they would be. She watched his gaze going south and broke into a grin, always pleased by her sexuality. 'I cannot say I have, sir king.' Her voice was breathy, as it got when she was gone. The lady moved slowly to the car doors, pulling them open. 'Show me.' She wanted to do this, wanted to feel this. It would be fun.
|
