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Post by ivory on Dec 24, 2011 21:12:27 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, padding: 10px, bTable] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; width: 500px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]THE FUNNY THING ABOUT FOREVER [/style] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;] IS IT COMES WITH A SIDE OF NEVER[/style]
She was, strangely, becoming used to those flutters that haunted her middle, although the sharp pain in her chest still managed to shock her.
The bounty hunter had even gone to the hospital--just a check up, nothing serious--but had been turned away with less than informative news. In fact, the short lived trip had hardly helped her at all; if anything, it put her in a worse position than before. You see, the doctor she saw had been convinced that Ivy wasn't plagued by some sort of medical illness, but an alien emotion that she had never encountered before.
The girl had scoffed.
It was ridiculous to think that this problem was due to something as stupid as feeliings; she would have guessed that already, right? Or, well, at least she hoped so.
Whatever the hell it was, Ivy wanted to get rid of it. Which, believe me, was easier said than done.
And so, when she had received their newest assignment--for some reason, it was always Ivy who got the files; they somehow managed to get it into their heads that she was the responsible one--and instead of texting Amber to meet up like they usually did, she decided to do a little detective work of her own.
She knew that Amber wouldn't mind (and after all, why would she be), seeing as the place where Ivy had planned to go to wasn't exactly Amber's idea of a evening well spent.
The brunette, clad in only a tight strapless top around her upper body and midsection and a pair of body-hugging black sequin shorts with heels to match, stepped confidently into the Grey Cat Club, looking back over her shoulder to blow the bouncer one, seductive kiss.
The whole outfit was new; to the top which she would never usually wear, right down to those adorable heels which accented her legs into making them seem longer and thinner than usual--they were a fucking godsend.
Her usual russet curls were straightened, every strand cascading down her back, eyelashes curled around darkly outlined blue orbs, with bright red lips to finish. The bounty hunter definitely looked, (and with the way she was standing; chest forward, heard up high) and acted like a hooker.
Perfect.
Ivy headed towards the bar, cerulean slyly glancing across the room, in hope of finding her guy. No such luck.
She frowned, the two brows furrowing to form a small line in between. But, in the same second it appeared, it was gone in a flash.
Licking her lips (again, thanking which ever genius thought of lip stain), she perched herself on one of the bar stools, crossing her legs and making sure they could be seen from behind her. She waved away the bartender when he sauntered towards her, not needing to remind herself that she shouldn't drink on the job. Plus, it would be amusing to see how many guys offered to buy her a drink.
Tapping her fingers on the counter, Ivy recalled the morning, reminding herself of all the facts. Peter Lowe, twenty eight, medium height yet stocky build. Regular visitor to the Red Light District.
There was more, but Ivy made a habit of only collecting the absolute necessary.[/style] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]BIT ON THE WEAK SIDE. ANYONE WELCOME TO JOIN!.[/style]
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Post by Rowan Amber on Dec 28, 2011 2:42:51 GMT -5
To let you know that you're not alone And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell [/style][style=background-color: #604e4c; width: 390px; height: 275px; padding: 5px;] The sun had only set two hours before she had gone out for the night, but nonetheless the time felt strange. She missed the sunsets and the sunrises she so eagerly stayed up to watch. She had kept her sketchs of each in her coffin as reminders of what she was missing and what was once her former life. She would never be able to see them again ever in her life. Not even her drawings. They were lost to her as well unless Xavier had found a way to retreive her lost eye sight. The only thought that came to her was finding someone with enough magic to reseverse the effects or taking someone's eyeballs away from them and replacing hers with theirs, but she loved the soft blue gray glow her eyes gave off. It made people believe she was innocent in nature and soul.
If only eyes could tell a story from someone who held such a darker past than what they were leading on. Rowan's attaire was simple tonight. Plain black, but she never really knew what she was wearing because it was just at a guess or she had one of the humans pick the outfit for her so she wouldn't be one to dress in something a poor human would wear. She wasn't one for rips and tares. Especially on her clothing, only if she was out murdering someone did she try to wear such clothing because then it could be thrown away after the incident and not thought about again.
She had found herself wandering the streets tonight, not knowing where she would end up. Maybe she did know where she would end up because she found herself near the Gray Cat. Now she wasn't a hooker, but someone could easily assume a blind vampire would make for a good show. If only Rowan wasn't trying to get by on finding a donor for tomorrow's dinner. The soles of her black buckle boots didn't make a sound as she entered the building. Yet, nothing she did made a sound as she walked. She was slient as a bug weaving through the flowers. Why she was here, she couldn't possibly answer that to anyone until later in the night when she wasn't feeling so overwhelmed with people bustling here and there beside her.
Rowan may have figured out how to get to the bar just fine, but it was the people who got in her way that certainly wished they hadn't. She blew them off even as they tried to grab her hand to lead her away. She didn't like to be touched, especially by people she didn't know. She was fine with it from Xavier when he backhanded her or if he touched her, but he was suppose to. He was her maker and controlled her when she got out of hand. Tonight wasn't much different, but he wasn't here to keep her under control. Not that she was such a problem vampire. She kept to herself made it look like she wasn't blind nor a vampire as she took a stool a few stools down away from a human woman. The bartender had left her alone, merely because the bartender didn't like the way she looked at him, or for the fact that she could smell the fear rising off of his body. Everyone seemed a bit tense tonight and she didn't quite understand why.
STARRING: Ivory | WORDS: 570 | LOCATION: Grey Cat Club | OUTFIT: HERE | NOTES: | [/style] [style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMSPURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0[/div][/center] |
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Post by ivory on Dec 28, 2011 9:14:27 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, padding: 10px, bTable] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; width: 500px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]THE FUNNY THING ABOUT FOREVER [/style][STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;] IS IT COMES WITH A SIDE OF NEVER[/style]
He, dressed carelessly in tattered jeans and a mud-streaked shirt, sauntered towards the bar, his presence demanding power and attention. She watched, as he leaned forward, face coy, whispering what she presumed to be sweet nothings to the other bartender (female, of course).
Ivy shifted her position, commandeering her stance so that she faced the other direction; but from the bottles of liquor placed neatly before her, she could see him with just the flick of an eye.
Satisfied that he was preoccupied, she risked a swooping glance across the club, spotting one, two, three other wolves scattered across the room, all standing guard. One, hovering near the entrance, and the other near the toilets, whilst the third (and biggest) sat on a stool near a woman on the bar, twirling a glass of whiskey in his scarred hands. They all had one thing in common: they, curiously, worryingly, all had their attention on her.
She tensed, blue glancing towards the glass, needing to see the man, Peter Lowe, where she had last seen him. The female bartender was washing the counter with an already dirty rag, her cheek still red from where she’d blushed. It was the scene that Ivy had just witnessed, with one key ingredient--the main ingredient--missing.
Peter, was gone.
Darkly outlined orbs widened, and she spun in her stool, for that one, heart stopping instant, she realized what was going on.
They knew.
The werewolves knew.
With a pain in her middle that she couldn’t describe, her body froze, frantically searching for a plan, a way to escape before things really bit the dust.
She needed to concentrate--but she couldn’t. Because they knew. And, with every twist in her stomach, every flash of pain, it told her one thing: someone had snitched. Someone told them about her--and, with another widening of the eyes, she realized that they must have told them about Amber, too--which meant that someone that she knew, that she trusted had fucked her over.
It was someone she trusted--only she didn’t know who.
She rose fluidly from the stool, ready to go, when he, seemingly out of nowhere, stepped out in front of her, that wry smile back on his lips. Their eyes locked; his, smug and dangerous, hers, shocked. He leaned forward, pressing his body against hers (because Ivy, stubborn as always, refused to step back), his face looming just above.
”Little bounty hunter,” he cooed, ”don’t you know things go bump at night?”
Ivy stared defiantly into his eyes, refusing to back down. Her eyes had widened at the mention of her job, his words concreting her previous thoughts. She, with a lift of her head, arched a brow. ”Of course I do.” She replied, acidly. ”I shoot them dead.” And with that, Ivy, leaned back and spat in his eye.
He didn’t react very well.
The bounty hunter used that distraction as a mean of getting away, and with a quick elbow thrust to the gut, she had Peter doubling over, and she daintily side-stepped around him, mind whirling.
But the other wolves were quicker.
The one near the woman at the bar shot out of his seat, knocking the female harshly on the shoulder. With a speed that no one could possibly match, he was there by Ivy’s side, fingers digging into her arm and slamming her back into the bar before she could leap out of the way. She grunted as her back collided with wood, struggling to stand upright--damn those heels. Face screwed up in pain, she gasped for breath, watching helplessly as Peter (face red with breathlessness and humiliation) stepped back in front of her, brows furrowed in anger.
Her arms pinned, legs trapped, Ivy was stuck. Peter, the smirk back on his face--yet not quite having the same smugness to it--leaned forward once more, flashing yellow teeth. Ivy noticed that her spit was still pooled in the hollow bit beneath his eye.
”Lick it off, bitch.”
Instead, she spat again, and the next thing she saw was his hand, flying towards her cheek.
[/style] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS POST; IT'S A LITTLE ODD.[/style]
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Post by Rowan Amber on Dec 28, 2011 18:47:32 GMT -5
To let you know that you're not alone And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell [/style][style=background-color: #604e4c; width: 390px; height: 275px; padding: 5px;] Listening to the breathing of a man sitting next to her, she could tell something was off. One because the man had a faster heart beat and two because he bumped her in the shoulder as he was getting off of the stool. One thing you never really did, especially to someone who was on speaking terms with the Master of the City and someone who's animal to call was wolves. She heard the commotion and could hear where the footfalls were.
She leaped off of the stool and found herself catching the wrist of a man who was about to hit a woman. How she figured out where the two were and what each item was, was something she hadn't been expecting to know, but nonetheless, the little bad wolf wouldn't get out of here scotch-free.
"Tisk tisk. I would leave her alone. I don't think the Master or the Ulfric would enjoy you harming humans out of spite." Rowan could say she knew both of them, personally. Her nails dug into the werewolf's wrist leaving half moon shape indents in his skin as he pulled away from the woman he held against the wall.
"I don't listen to vampires who think they know something." [/i] his voice was slow, but the growl was real. Rowan let out such a laugh that it raised the hair on his arms. Coming from her, she thought it was quite funny, but then again she had came into more contact of things than she wished to tell. "Let me tell you something. I could easily go and call Alan to come down here to take your sorry ass back to the Lunatic Cafe, but you wouldn't want to disturb him from his job or is he out at the Hospital. I know how much his daughter means to him. You get him in a terrible mood and then you're screwed. Though The Master, now that's a man you don't want to fuck with. Let her go. And carry on with your terrible life. I'll make sure Alan takes you out with a bang. Or I'll reveal to your employer you're a werewolf."She certainly had a way with dealing such things. And there was fear in that man now. She didn't need to see the look on his face to know that he was scared. It blew off of him like a scented candle. That was all she needed for him to let go of the woman, but she didn't see nor expected him to throw her into the opposite wall. She hit it full force, her back taking most of the impact as she slid to the floor. "I don't care what you are or who you know, but get this you bitch. I don't take orders from a vampire." He snapped at her as he stormed off as more people started to crowd around what was happening. Rowan stayed planted on the ground trying to regain her senses. She pushed those who tried to help her away, she would have gotten up by herself perfectly fine if she had time to regain everything that would keep her from feeling woozy later. [/div] STARRING: Ivory | WORDS: 524 | LOCATION: The Grey Cat Club | OUTFIT: HERE | NOTES: | [/style] [/center] [style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMSPURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0[/div][/center] |
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Post by ivory on Dec 29, 2011 19:25:32 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, padding: 10px, bTable] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; width: 500px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]THE FUNNY THING ABOUT FOREVER [/style][STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;] IS IT COMES WITH A SIDE OF NEVER[/style]
Ivy, azure orbs wide, felt a flicker of smugness--quickly vanquished by annoyance--when Peter's wrist hung in the air, held up by the woman that had been sitting by the bar. She supposed she should have been thankful, but Ivy was good at her job; she would have been able to handle the pain. And this woman, by no means, was a human--only one of the supernatural could have stopped a werewolf, mid-punch.
"Tisk tisk. I would leave her alone. I don't think the Master or the Ulfric would enjoy you harming humans out of spite." With a wince, Peter let her go, leaving bruises where his fingers left.
He winced, then scowled, features twisting into humiliated malice.
"I don't listen to vampires who think they know something." He growled, spitting out each world with practiced care. The woman replied, quick and amused.
"Let me tell you something. I could easily go and call Alan to come down here to take your sorry ass back to the Lunatic Cafe, but you wouldn't want to disturb him from his job or is he out at the Hospital. I know how much his daughter means to him. You get him in a terrible mood and then you're screwed. Though The Master, now that's a man you don't want to fuck with. Let her go. And carry on with your terrible life. I'll make sure Alan takes you out with a bang. Or I'll reveal to your employer you're a werewolf."
Impatience danced in Ivy's narrowed eyes--vampire. Blue flickered from the woman's eyes--blind, she realized; the whole time they'd stared at nothing--to Peter's: fear, fighting with stubbornness. She quirked a brow. The vampire was, or said, something very important. Important enough for full grown werewolves to run away.
Ivy had had enough.
"Excuse me," she snarled, "back. Off." She, prideful and ego hurt, shot the woman a pointless glare, before turning to the werewolf, hand reaching for her gun. "Why run away Peter?" She cooed, fingers curling against cold metal strapped on the inner side of her thigh, "why delay--" she took out the gun, pointing it at his heart, cocked and ready "--the inevitable?"
Index finger placed in the right area, she twisted forwards, pulling the trigger.
But he, Peter, had already begun to move.
Twisting his body, he dodged the bullet, snarling a laugh, and hand gripped on the other woman's arm, threw her in Ivy's direction, and into the wall. The vampire crumpled to the ground, and Ivy tensed; a crowd was beginning to form. The wolf was at the advantage.
He leaned forward, a knowing smirk etched onto his lips. "Until we meet again." He, laughingly, dodged her punch, before beginning to move towards the exit, snapping a, "I don't care what you are or who you know, but get this you bitch. I don't take orders from a vampire," at the woman getting up from the floor. With a short slam, the wolves were gone.
Ivy turned, hands on hip, eyes narrowed, baring teeth. "Alright everyone, show's over. Go." The crowd melted, and the sweating bodies began to dance once more.
She stormed towards the vampire, lips twisted in malevolence. "Thanks for saving me from a slap," she said acidly, "and fucking up everything. Thanks. Thanks a lot." She spat out the rest, sarcasm at it's highest.
She should've been grateful--they both knew that Peter was going to do worse than a slap. But her pride was big, and so was her hatred. A vampire had saved her, and that, she'd never forgive.
"Name?" She asked, rather grudgingly. Ivy owed the woman; so she needed to pay her back. If she was going to be saved by one of the supernaturals, then she, in return, would save one of them.
[/style] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;][/style]
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Post by Rowan Amber on Dec 29, 2011 21:25:10 GMT -5
To let you know that you're not alone And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell [/style][style=background-color: #604e4c; width: 390px; height: 275px; padding: 5px;] "Thanks for saving me from a slap and fucking everything. Thanks. Thanks a lot."
Rowan shook her head. She was trying to clear her head once more before she spoke. "He would have killed you. If you really want him dead, I can ask Alan to hold him for you." Rowan stood up and dusted herself off. She was lucky not to have flashed anyone when the werewolf flung her into the wall. Though if she did, she would never have known because she wouldn't have to see the reactions of any of the people here, but they probably enjoyed the show.
"Give me your name first. I'm sure you could easily look mine up at Danse Macabre. I am after all the fledgling of the Master." her voice was bitter, but then again Rowan was having a hard time trying to get around the damage she had caused by being flung into the wall.
She had made some idle threats in her short life of thiry years, but at least she took them to heart. She would certainly tell Alan about the werewolf, even if the man was a secret wife and child killer. The man would do it to keep the city clean, he wanted to be known as someone who took care of the city before he decided to trash it with his bodies of former family members.
"Bill the damage to The Master. Sorry for destroying much of your chairs." her voice was clear and focused as she made her way out of the Grey Cat club and into the street. She had only found her way by the fresh air that was blowing through the door that Peter had left opened. If the woman followed her so be it, but she was expecting the woman to follow because she didn't want to be overheard in such a crowded place.
"If you are going to go up against a werewolf, then you better be prepared to take them on. And from what I heard, you were ill-prepared and wasn't expecting them to do any harm. Tisk tisk. You were lucky I stepped in for what I could do. Alan won't take lightly that I told his werewolves I would have him killed. The man doesn't seem to care for me as he once did. He would rather I be in a grave up in Canada than living life in some place like New Orleans." Rowan was rambling and mumbling along. Much to her delight, she didn't care if the woman was listening to it or not.
Heading up the street seemed to be the one thing that kept Rowan moving and from stopping as she listened to the whistles of a few men. They wouldn't understand that she couldn't see them, all she could do was listen to the sounds and the footfalls of the people around her to know where she was going. Later she would be able to strength her skills on where to go, if Xavier would pick a date to help her, if he couldn't find a way to give her back her sight. Was this woman following her? Rowan had stopped to let the woman catch up, as she figured her short statue of five feet three inches had gone a bit faster than a normal height human could take.
STARRING: Ivory | WORDS: 553 | LOCATION: | OUTFIT: Here | NOTES: | [/style] [style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMSPURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0[/div][/center] |
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Post by ivory on Dec 30, 2011 16:12:08 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, padding: 10px, bTable] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; padding-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px; width: 500px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;]THE FUNNY THING ABOUT FOREVER [/style][STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;] IS IT COMES WITH A SIDE OF NEVER[/style]
Ivy scowled, not liking the woman's tone. As if she, a bounty hunter, couldn't take care of werewolves.
"He wouldn't have killed me. He'd have slapped me--which I would have been able to handle--and then drag me outside to attempt to finish me off there." She eyed the vampire with disdain, each word dripping with venom. "I'm a bounty hunter. Doing this--" she waved a hand absentmindedly around the room "--is what I do. So tell your fucking Alan to shove it where it hurts."
She let out a sigh, pressing one hand against her forehead, shutting her eyes in concentration.
God, Amber was going to freak.
This was almost as bad as that time in Chicago--the brunette simply never learned.
Ivy asked the vampire for her name, but the woman refused, bitter. "Give me your name first. I'm sure you could easily look mine up at Danse Macabre. I am after all the fledgling of the Master."
"Ivory Holmes."
Her reply was immediate, proud.
She was not afraid of vampires, of werewolves, of any of the supernatural. Let them have her name; she, in return, would have their lives.
"Now yours."
The vampire mentioned looking it up, but Ivy was sure that she had better things to do. She'd said that she was fledgling of the Master, solidifying her earlier thoughts; the vampire was very important.
"Bill the damage to The Master. Sorry for destroying much of your chairs."
The bartender (to Ivy's surprise, still behind the bar, in the same place), slowly nodded, apparently paralysed with either fear, or shock. The vampire sauntered out of the club, and with a groan, Ivy hurried to catch up with her, again, not liking the way this was going.
She was supposed to be in control, here. She was.
The vampire, not bothering to turn around to see if Ivy was there, began to talk. "If you are going to go up against a werewolf, then you better be prepared to take them on. And from what I heard, you were ill-prepared and wasn't expecting them to do any harm. Tisk tisk. You were lucky I stepped in for what I could do. Alan won't take lightly that I told his werewolves I would have him killed. The man doesn't seem to care for me as he once did. He would rather I be in a grave up in Canada than living life in some place like New Orleans."
Ivy, who always had trouble with patience, sighed, hands clenching into fists.
"I already told you," she said, behind grit teeth, "I had it all under control. It was you who messed everything up. Now they'll have gone into hiding--making my job so much easier."
Men whistled as they walked past, which Ivy ignored, with a roll of her eyes. The vampire stopped suddenly, apparently waiting for Ivy to catch up. But the brunette had a stamina like you wouldn't believe, and had managed to keep in pace (although she was a little out of breath; not that she'd admit it, of course).
She ran a hand through her hair, irritation dancing across her usually controlled features.
"But I suppose, I owe you. Somewhat." She muttered, grudgingly. "So hurry up and tell me what you want, 'cuz I hate owing people."
And then, with a wry smile (not that the vampire could see that), she added: "especially to the supernatural."
[/style] [STYLE=background-color: #800517; width: 500px; padding-top: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; font-family: arial; color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 8.5px; text-align: center;][/style]
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Post by Rowan Amber on Dec 30, 2011 16:34:41 GMT -5
To let you know that you're not alone And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell [/style][style=background-color: #604e4c; width: 390px; height: 275px; padding: 5px;] So the woman was a bounty hunter. What of it? Didn't seem to bother Rowan that the woman was someone who hunted down the supernatural. It didn't even phase her in the slightest.
"That's a pity. Alan is the Ulfric of the Local Werewolf pack. He'd probably kill you before you got the chance to hurt this Peter."
Waiting for the woman seemed pointless as she heard the footfalls of the woman behind her as she stopped. "It's Amethyst Blythe, but everyone knows me as Rowan Amber. Can't attach yourself to a wife killer."
Listening to the woman mumble about how she messed her pretty little plan up didn't seem to phase Rowan at all. Maybe Xavier was rubbing off on her a little too much to actually give a shit about others. Oh how he would enjoy such a thing, if she wasn't such a chicken shit most of the time. That's what pissed him over the edge, was that she couldn't stand up for herself, but she choose not to for various reasons. He hadn't known about her twisted past and the various murders she had caused in New York. Would anyone try and find that it was her? She simply couldn't go about doing it now. Her sight was missing and she usually let her victims wallow in their pain while she drew a picture of the scene at hand while she tore a piece of it off to give to police for a slight clue. It was her way of letting them know a serial killer was at the hand of this.
"You don't owe me anything. But if it hurts your pride, then fine. But you still don't owe me anything, unless you know of someone who can restore someone's sight that's been damaged by holy water."
Sad to say, Rowan wouldn't stop looking. She wanted her sight back more than anything. She saw it as a sign for weakness to not be able to see a thing. Especially when she enjoyed doing something that involved being able to look upon it.
"What's wrong with owing someone? Just because they did a kindness to you that you have to repay them for something? If I was any colder I would have let him rape you before I walked in, but the coldness of the Master hasn't exactly taken its toll on me." Rowan was a sly bitch when she wanted to be and it was often times where she didn't feel comfortable to stay nice did that side come out. Though if she had it any other way she would probably have killed a few humans and left their bodies on the side walk before she walked into the club. Just out of spite of it. She wasn't exactly the angel in the group here.
"You shouldn't sound so annoyed to be here. You'd wish otherwise if those men had it their way."
STARRING: Ivory| WORDS: 481 | LOCATION: Outside of the Grey Cat Club | OUTFIT: | NOTES: | [/style] [style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 10px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 1px;]TABLE BY AMETHYST @ DECIMATED DREAMSPURPLESTRIPE93 @ CAUTION 2.0[/div][/center] |
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