Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 5, 2012 17:09:47 GMT -6
There was a table in the deepest, darkest corner of Easy Street and Eluard sat there, his blue eyes sharply studying the denizens of the club from the comfortable position. Initially, he had come into the establishment in pursuit of information but the lead had slackened to later break entirely, leaving him without a catch. The idea of returning home in the middle of the night and probably waking Noreen (his four year old daughter’s babysitter) didn’t appeal, not after the last time it had happened. Her brown eyes were always so worried and somehow sad, especially when she was freshly woken from sleep and everything was quiet in the apartment. Eluard swirled the martini in his glass. Being around Noreen when she was so obviously on the brink of telling him things he wouldn’t know how to respond to felt suffocating and somehow… unpleasant.
The information dealer took a sip of his drink and savored the burning sensation it produced as it slid down his throat. The bartenders in here really took “extra dry” seriously. His icy eyes became clouded with thoughts of mutants, of his underground associates, of his duties in the hospital, of the man that had died on his surgery table a couple of days ago and his brokenhearted family to finally settle on the upcoming operation in the underground. Taking down the devil’s, Miguel Vesquez’s, carnage arena would present the greatest risk of his life. A myriad things could go wrong and spell the end of his short but surprisingly eventful life. He’d gone over the details of the plan one too many times and it was never necessary for he could never forget anything and no new ideas came to him.
Theoretically, if things went wrong, tonight was one of the few nights he would still be part of the living and that thought made him feel more liberated than fearful. The wonderment about the sentiment was in his eyes just briefly before the waters calmed and he let himself simply relax and forget. Right now it didn’t matter that so many people listened to his instructions almost religiously and were ready to follow his lead into a situation that could claim their lives, it wasn’t important that people entrusted him with their lives in the hospital as well, so innocently accepting to be put to sleep while he tried to work magic and resolve their bodily problems even when they were almost beyond repair. No. Nothing mattered and all of his roles in society were shed in favor of having a string-less moment to himself.
As such, he probably appeared to be an all too inviting patron, with polished shoes that glistened even in low light, a light cream-colored suit that looked like it belonged on the more eccentric businessmen that waltzed through Wall Street on a carpet of dollar bills and blond hair tied back in a low pony-tail, seated all mysteriously in the dimmest of light. His peppermint scented cologne was mixing with the toxic smell of alcohol, nicotine and dance floor smoke that fogged through the club and the drink in his hand was more than half consumed, clearly in need of refreshment soon. The only thing that could unnerve and paint him as more than just a simple potential drunk with deep pockets were his eyes, very lucid and alive in a way that didn’t exactly refer to his spirit or any overabundant enthusiasm for life. They were simply the eyes of someone who saw way too much, remembered it all.
And liked it.
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 6, 2012 5:00:00 GMT -6
Drum and bass. Clink of glasses. Shouts from the crowd. Saskia stared out across the dance floor while her hands deftly poured two drinks on the bar in front of her. Taking payment from the customer with a practiced grateful smile, she dodged her fellow bar workers to get to the till and shoved it inside. But by the time she returned with the man’s change, he had gone, taking the two drinks with him. She frowned absently, scanning the crowd for him. He had been pretty drunk already, probably didn’t even realise he’d given her too much. Shrugging to herself she pocketed the difference. The first time her gaze spotted him, she thought it was by chance. He was sitting in a back corner, away from the dance floor, drink in hand. Curious eyes lingered for a moment, but then moved on. It was not until much later in the evening that she realised her gaze kept falling back to him from wherever it was straying to, pulled back, each time a little bit more interest flaring in her stomach. He was good looking and well dressed; a pretty rare sight for Easy Street. Her hands made drinks, took money, nodded thanks, but her eyes kept drifting back to him. A predatory grin turned up her lips. “I’m switching duties.” She called over to the two others were attending the bar this evening; Marcus and Elena. Marcus was a tall man, slim and almost definitely gay, though he hadn’t come out yet. His black hair was always gelled to within an inch of its life and his trousers were far too tight to be worn by a straight man. Elena was good friends with Lottie. So, really, that was reason enough to hold a grudge against her. The girl in question, paused in what she was doing and rammed a hand into her hip, scowling. “You can’t just change.” She spat, eyes glaring. “We need three people on here tonight. It’s bloody heaving!” Saskia shot her a death look and turned to scan the crowds. “SONIA!” She yelled. Her fellow working girl whipped her head around. By the looks of things she was having little luck tonight; the guy she was dancing with had just wrapped himself around another. She jogged over, looking weary and slightly frayed at the edges. Her red armband lit up momentarily as one of the strobe lights threw its glare in their direction. “What?” “Switch with me? I’ve spotted a mark and bitch-face here is adamant they need three bar staff.” The music could have drowned out her words, but just in case it did she raised her voice a little so Elena could hear. She bristled but didn’t rise to the bait. Sonia followed her jab towards the mark. She rose both brows and tutted. “Sas, that isn’t a mark – that’s an indulgence. That type don’t go for our business – he’ll be up and away the moment you flash you’re armband.” Saskia scowled and drew her gaze back to the man in question. It was true. The cream suit, polished shoes… it was rare enough for him to be in this place, let alone be seeking some of Easy Street’s less moral services. Still. Something about his eyes…. She morphed her features into persuasion. “Pleeeease, Soni. Just give me 20 minutes with his cheek bones and if nothing happens, I’ll come back here. I swear. Just 20 minutes of indulgence?” Her hands came together, resting on her rouged lips, begging. Sonia laughed and swatted her hands away with a shake of her head. “20 minutes.” She agreed. Pouring two drinks from the bar, she squeezed through the bar door flap, planting a kiss on Sonia’s cheek as the two girls past each other. Her dress floated perfectly over her slender form as she approached him, with every step her face gradually remaking itself into that façade she was all too familiar with. Happy, coy, inherently seductive. Her armband remained hidden in her bra. No need to get it out now and scare him away. Besides, she thought with a sly grin, her hands were full. “A few healthy gulps and you’ll finish that.” She nodded to his half empty martini and slid one of the ones in her hand towards him. The other she kept, and took a sip, eyeing him over the top of the glass. “Oh no… wait,” She slid easily into the seat opposite him. “I’m sorry. I’m forgetting something aren’t I? Toffs like you don’t know how to drink.” She shot him a devilish smile and took another gulp, placing her glass onto the table before them. Her eyes met his, trying to decipher the cause of their depth. But she got nothing. “Saskia Murlew. But most people call me Sas.”
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 6, 2012 8:15:00 GMT -6
It was true. Eluard had never before lingered quite this long within Easy Street. His presence was reserved to The Palace at Versailles or the Black Pearl, Endonia’s most expensive, dress code specific nightclubs, one of them also a casino. In the world of monetary overabundance, every person knew that the next they would lay eyes upon was inherently deceptive and playing an elaborate game they were all in equal measure afraid of and thrilled about. That very game was what Eluard was good at. He was also particularly skilled at winning card games, as if he could always figure out people’s hands enough to make an end game related decision that wouldn’t bring him any loses at the very least. These two whispered facts alone made approaching him the domain of the devilishly self-assured and sensation seekers exclusively within the aforementioned establishments and the information dealer had no taste for their like tonight.
He could see Saskia coming over the rim of his glass, another taken sip bringing him even closer to the drink’s fin. She was beautiful, her straightforward approach coming in contrast to the touch of sheepishness in her smile. His eyes were on her up to the point she reached his table, made a remark about his almost-finished drink and promptly granted him another. Not taking his eyes off the new martini he leant back in his seat, in this case a black leather corner-couch, taking the old martini with him as he went and enjoying another quiet sip from it as she continued her presentation. His calm and unenthusiastic behavior would have been more appropriate if he had been expecting her and they held any prior acquaintance. His gaze was kept very low, shadowed in the dim light, until she deposited her own poison on the table and it was during her introduction that he abruptly sat up, his first martini left on the low table.
“Confident, brash, impulsive, probably temperamental,” he listed in a quiet tone that she could still hear despite the club-specific din as he took a few steps around the table, apparently set on a course to disappear into the crowd behind her seat, but he paused when he reached her level. “Saskia…” he turned towards her and leant down so that he could whisper something in her ear, one of his hands, if permitted, slithering onto her neck, brushing past hair lightly and cradling the back of her head in a way that implied more tender intimacy than could have existed between two strangers. “What is the color of my eyes?”
There was a pause then and a fresh cloud of smoke engulfed them, perhaps a too enthusiastic emission from a rookie overlooking the dance floor. Eluard had done his best not to make the answer to his question obvious after the initial eye contact she had been granted right before she placed the drink down on the table. Even with the spotlight filtering through the thick air in the club and illuminating his face at the time, only someone who would have purposefully been looking or had above-average observational skills could have noticed. Also, for once, Eluard had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed her eyeing him throughout the evening and into night.
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 6, 2012 9:50:36 GMT -6
Now she was sitting opposite him and the dim lights that decorated this part of the club were closer and more in focus, she could see much more of him. Even his hair was neat. Which was surprising and meant that he hadn’t danced all night because one thing was sure about Easy Street; if you spent even two minutes on the dance floor you’d come out looking a lot worse for wear than when you went it. But everything about him oozed sophistication. So what was he doing here then? So very starkly contrasting to everything else in the building…
Saskia rose a brow, confused, as he began his list. “If I offend, sir, then - please - tell me how so I can keep doing it.” Another wicked grin. She watched him rise from the seat and pace around from her. What, so easily scared away? She deflated slightly in disappointment, eyes tempted to dart towards the bar where she was certain Sonia and the others would be laughing at her, their titters mercifully drowned out by the music. But he stopped, blocking her view of the bar, and leaning down to her level. Saskia felt a surge of triumph. Gods, she hadn’t even done anything yet, not played any of her best cards. Perhaps Sonia had been wrong about him. She lent her neck back slightly to fall more into his hands grasp. The customer always had the power.
But his question threw her. She thought she knew the answer, but it was such an odd request… and besides, with the lighting and smoke and strobes… things all got a bit blurred in here. She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. She had seen his eyes just a moment ago. But when she sought for the image in her head all she found was the fathomless depth of them, not the colour. No… it was there, somewhere. “They’re blue.” She answered, finally, her lips cracking into a smile. Because they were, she was sure of it. Unless the atmosphere had deceived her. In fact, now she thought about it, she had seen them even from the bar, which was probably what had kept calling her own gaze back to them.
“But with a face and dress sense like that,” she let herself lean in a little closer, lips temptingly lingering in front of his for a moment. Her own eyes lit up with a well-practiced smoulder. “you can’t tell me you don’t look in the mirror often enough to not know your own eye colour.” Her head tilted slightly into his hand, considering him. “So that was a test of some sort then? I passed.” She sent him a grin.
“But sit and drink, sir, because the night is young and there must be so many little tests in that pretty little head of yours.” She even slid up a little on the sofa she occupied, allowing him to sit next to her if he chose.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 6, 2012 12:36:06 GMT -6
Her implied question and successive request amused him and it had shown in the faintest curving of his lips. There was more power in that little pop of wit than her cleavage or rosy lips, but even Eluard had to admit the competition was tight. Her practiced allure and soft submission dressed in flickers of definite confidence both attracted and disappointed him. There was something clearly too comfortable about the way she reacted to a move that was supposed to unnerve and it was poking at an alarm button deep within Eluard but he wasn’t going to mind it, not right now.
He waited for her reply and, when it came, his hand stiffened just slightly on her neck – he hadn’t really expected her to be right. Eluard withdrew from her ear and let her confirm her triumph by looking into his eyes but this new position was quickly taken advantage of. His eyelids lowered a little at her daring approach and his usually quiet vanity registered the flattery with some caution. Her head shifted slightly in his hand and his touch on her became lighter, almost ghostly, but definitely present. They were both considering the other and it was only through lifelong practiced control that he didn’t visually consider her lips during that moment.
Her emphasis of victory snapped the enchantment and he gave her another minimal smile before returning the hand back to his side. Regardless, she had passed so he sat down next to her even though he seemed in no hurry to drink again. She was trying to get him drunk much too obviously. “Eluard,” he offered, implying she should abandon the use of “sir” and use his name instead. One of his eyebrows rose. “And whoever told you they were little?” He narrowed his eyes in her direction with some discretion, but there was no strength in his suspicion and it was easily swept away by his own brand of amused charm.
“You seem as prone to pull a Narcissus on the mirror as I am,” his eyes molded into a soft keen, “perhaps a little more actually.” He sat forward on the sofa, elbows on his legs and hands coming together just below his mouth. “So why exactly would you need me drunk to seduce me, lollypop?” His tone was teasing and his eyes amused and he was also displaying a friendlier side. It was hard to believe what he had called her for he’d never been in the habit of attributing silly nicknames to people he just met. However, she had inspired it, somehow.
“So.” He drew back from his position and his entire body turned more towards her, a sheen of probing in his eyes. “Am I to understand you’re willing to spend all night weaving your way through my tests fully accepting that you could fail just at the first touch of sunlight and walk away with nothing at all?”
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 6, 2012 16:38:08 GMT -6
“Eluard.” She repeated, letting the name roll over her tongue. It was a good name. A strong name. Deliberately, she angeled herself towards him on the sofa, legs crossed, dress barely reaching her knees. Her eyes were playful and calculating. If it wasn’t for the constant flash of the strobes and the smoke, she would have undoubtedly seen the same attributes reflected in his, too. “No one told me anything. But were you expecting them to?” She narrowed her eyes, head cocking to one side again. “Are you someone that people talk about?”
Her smile faltered a little. Narcissus. They had studied him in her first term and University. Before she spiralled. It was all there, still, the things that she had learnt. Though mostly now, she tried more to blot them out than remember them. But in that instant, in the drone of the club’s trade, she could see the lecture theatre, smell the chalk, hear the hum of laptops surrounding her. She blinked and steadied herself, remembering her façade at the last minute. She simply smiled away his comment because she couldn’t remember what he’d actually said.
“Drunk? Why, because everything seems better with a lace of alcohol.” There were some night when she actually believed that too. Either when the reality of her situation caught up with her or when a particularly lecherous client approached her. “But I’m beginning to think it won’t be necessary.” Her foot, crossed over her leg moved an inch closer to it touched his calf. She didn’t even move to slid it up his leg; she didn’t need to. It was a point; contact could be made – already had been made on his part. She fixed a coy smile to her lips.
She tutted dramatically and drew back as he did, shaking her head sadly; “No can do, solider.” She flicked her gaze back over to the bar. All three of her co-workers were pre-occupied with customers but she was under no illusion that they had forgotten about her. “I don’t have until the first touch of sunlight. I just don’t get that luxury. I’ve got 20 minutes - probably less, actually – until I have to be back behind that bar.” She nodded absently to the location in question, then drew her gaze lazily back to those fathomless eyes. “But a lot can happen in 20 minutes. And I have a deal, you see, that if this,” her hand gestured momentarily between their two forms, “goes anywhere within that time, I might buy myself a bit more indulgence.”
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 6, 2012 18:33:27 GMT -6
Her questions rolled over him and made him look away, unfocused gaze staring at a pair of people at a different table without seeing them. There were so many ways to answer, each leading to a different web of secrets, that he didn’t even know where to start had he any true desire to be honest. Very suddenly, he was back in the underground again, watching horror upon horror and being numb to it all by necessity. When the recalled screams and pained expressions finally receded out of the present, he looked to her, raised a hand to his face, supporting his chin on a thumb, his temple on his index and middle finger and curling the remaining two digits as he mirrored the tilt of her head. “Yes.”
She could be a spy, sent to coo pleasant words into his ear, get him drunk and dispose of him whenever she got the chance. She certainly seemed to have the wit and there was something behind her eyes that reminded him of him, and that was rarely a good thing. Her expression changed only a little, attention slipping away from him for a breath and when she was back she dismissed his veiled compliment. Eluard was tempted to take the liquor glass from the table but thought better of it and never made a move for it.
Her following attempt to persuade him otherwise only strengthened his interest in remaining as sober as he could be after the dry martini he’d already had. He could feel the drink in his system under the form of making his mental processes a little more sluggish (which sort of brought him to the level of a normal man) and also inspiring him to slacken his hold on the iron control he wanted to have over his life. In his experience, those two occurrences had rarely been beneficial to him, instead producing unwelcome trouble. And as her foot inched towards him and he allowed it to connect with his leg… he knew for sure this wouldn’t be one of the nights the former happened.
His eyes narrowed a little at the touch, at the devilish smile she had under the surface. The coming of the coy smile made him huff out some amusement and the fingers of his hand moved to cover his eyes briefly. Her words rang true because although he intended to fight her all the way he did enjoy her antics.
Eluard crossed his arms and listened to her explain how their interaction was a sort of bet with lazy interest. So she worked at the bar, or so he was supposed to believe. By the time she finished explaining he was stroking his chin. “Is that so? You should have told me that in the first place.” He was smiling and so too were his eyes, whether from amusement or a queer wave of pleasure/happiness it couldn’t be clear. “We shouldn’t be wasting time then,” he reasoned and for the second time that night was getting closer to her, torso turning on the spot after he came to sit right next to her, their sides brushing together.
His hands were on either side of her shoulders, gripping onto the back of the leather sofa and the position had him slightly raised from his seat. For the second time that night, their faces were entirely too close to each other and the smile was already gone from his, instead replaced by that quiet consideration of earlier. For a moment, his head tilted to the side a little so his (for the duration of the glance) very sharp eyes could stare directly at the staff from the bar, by chance catching the gaze of one of the other girls there. After the moment was spent, he returned to sharing her breaths, hand back on her neck, and he drew her in for a kiss. Not one shred of emotion was in it, however, and he remained impossibly bottled up from her in that one moment.
When their lips parted he drew back like a cold reptile, got up, thrust a hand into his pocket and pulled out enough money to pay both his drinks and hers and a whole partying basketball team’s on the side (not out of some incredible generosity but because he couldn't be bothered to notice the sum he had drawn out) and tossed it on the table before picking up a long dark overcoat he had deposited on the other sofa and draping it over his shoulder. It all happened as if in one motion and he was starting to walk away, but he paused and looked over his shoulder down to where she sat, his eyes neutral and a touch frosty in their emptiness. “That should be enough to please your friends. Enjoy your break from pouring drinks. You shouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in anyone else tonight.”
After that, he turned, intending to walk away.
((Lemme know if you need anything changed love!))
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 7, 2012 4:06:20 GMT -6
His answer was so minimal she waited patiently for an expansion on his part, but none came. It drew a delicate frown to her features as she considered his answer. Who exactly was she dealing with here? If his answer was true he could easily be a councillor with his good dress sense and claim to fame. Hell, they got plenty of government types in here; mostly married men looking for a change from their wife. Saskia could bring down an empire with the secrets she had gathered over just the few months she had been working here.
She picked up her drink as he considered her. They seemed to be doing that a lot to each other; without any form of trust in their conversation, what else were they supposed to do but inspect the other until they knew more? She let a bit more of the martini slip down her throat, looking away from him so as not to get too lost in those fathomless eyes of his. Her ears pricked at his answer though, frowning, replacing the drink and turning to look at him. He reflected her movement, turning his chest towards her.
Suddenly, his hands were either side of her and his face was practically touching hers, the smile that had played on his lips had vanished. In any other circumstance, this would be a victory; a client finally falling into her lap. But it was all happening entirely too soon. Perhaps he had guessed her profession already. As he glanced over her, sharp eyes drawn elsewhere, she seized the chance to look in his face. But it had grown as empty as his eyes. Saskia took a breath, mingled with his, trying to make sense of him, of his actions but she couldn’t place them and it was throwing her wildly off course. With the kiss, Saskia’s automatic pilot took over. A hand trailed up from her side to slither up his chest, the other coming to weave into his hair. But usually, she would have been quicker off the mark; feigned affection would have shown in the return of it, where instead she found only emptiness in his and reflected it in her own. She drew back sooner than she would have normally, too, her eyes speaking a thousand questions. She felt exposed, used and utterly vulnerable. And she hated him for it; for somehow breaking down her resolve of assured confidence. Absently, she prayed Sonia hadn’t noticed her failings from her viewing place.
Money flew down onto the table, but, for once, she didn’t even take a moment to glance at it. She was shaking her head, not seeing, looking straight ahead. She only just remembered to snap out of it as he turned away from her.
“You bastard.” She spat, rising from her seat, rounding on him. “That’s it? Who even are you? To come in here like you’re so much better than everyone else and then just leave without so much as an explanation. You have no right…” to what? He had every right. She choked an exasperated breath and glanced away. Then she double took at the amount sitting on the table. Her features fell into disbelief.
“What the fuck is this for?” A hand snatched up the amount. “Are you trying to prove something? That you’re so rich you’re untouchable? You can just waltz in here and do whatever the fuck you like?”
She took a breath. A deep one, so that it reached the pit of her lungs where she could almost feel the first lacings of nicotine. She could taste meth in the air and if she breathed in harder she knew she’d smell E and Ket and Coke and… Her body sagged under the influence of knowing all the substances that could be available to her tonight. Every last one of them still rooted in her bloodstream with no intention of leaving her be. She tilted her head back to the ceiling, her eyes screwed shut. She could just keep the money; he’d given it to her after all. It might pay for the crack in her flat window to be fixed, or pay for some proper meals. Then, as if nothing had happened, her resolve sprang into action, her head snapping back to him. The hand with the money slammed it back into his chest for him to take back. “Well you can keep your fucking pity money. I don’t need it.” Her voice faltered, and she corrected herself; “I don’t want it. I got myself into this and I am going to get myself out of it. All I wanted was 20 minutes.”
If she really thought about it, a lot of what she was doing, what she was saying didn’t make sense. But she couldn’t think about it. The alcohol she’d had all night was beginning to run faster through her blood stream and the enticing scent of the drugs in the club were making her mind blurred and approximate. She knew only one thing; she did not want to go back to that bar.
{non, j’adore!}
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 7, 2012 7:45:08 GMT -6
Nothing about Saskia made sense to Eluard after he rose from the leather seat. He was the one being used for a bet (or so he had understood from the way she had put it) so when she insulted him, blocked his path and acted as if she was the one entitled to express upset it made him pause. He had actually thought he was doing her a favor and granting her the break she’d win if “this went anywhere” within her 20 minute challenge frame. He didn’t match up to her anger but did quirk an eyebrow and cross his free arm over his chest. “Well excuse me. Had I known this club required me to share my life story to be granted exit I would have never walked in.”
She was raging about the money now and he found himself mirroring her disbelief on the inside. Outwardly, he was simply staring, looking slightly peeved. The money was smacked on his chest and his hand rose up to arrest the falling bills on instinct. He had a retort, but it was paused in his breath because her last words both informed of her struggle with life and poked him with those vague 20 minutes whose purpose was no longer something he could grasp. If she was any form of underground urchin’s spy, she was doing a brilliant job at it.
Eluard released a short sigh, pocketed the money she had returned to him, and let the traces of anger in his disposition fade. “Firstly,” he started, eyes returned to their calculating nature and tone simple, “no one is untouchable. I believe I’ve already demonstrated this with myself. You were granted both my attention and consideration for a time. Thus, a window of opportunity to influence me and my life.” He moved his weight to one foot and tilted his head. “Secondly, I haven’t violated any rules nor done anything in the absence of permission in this establishment so that whatever wealth I have would get an opportunity to protect me from repercussions.”
The information dealer looked away from her then and fixed his gaze on nothing in particular. “Thirdly, you were not the one to serve me my initial drink, so technically, whatever ridiculous tip I had every right to leave wasn’t exactly yours to take in the first place.” He returned his gaze to her. “Also, you make no sense. Haven’t I already given you what you needed of your 20 minutes? Something did happen so you could “indulge” in your break longer.” Of course, the way she had worded her protest suggested something Eluard preferred not to consider, unless it was spelled out for him quite frankly.
One of his eyebrows rose again. “And, aren’t you pretty unwise for your age? If I really am the type to do “whatever the fuck I want” and have the means to support that inclination, shouldn’t you be more careful about annoying me? You’re in some form of mess already. Surely you don’t need more added to your plate.” There was a warning in his tone, but it wasn’t the sort you would hear from an enemy’s rage but a friend’s caution. All things considered, Eluard wasn’t returning her bite at all.
Something in his eyes hardened just a little. “So what do you want from me, Saskia Murlew?” The question held a little edge of accusation, since she had effectively demanded he respond to her agitation before he would be allowed to exit the club.
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 7, 2012 8:39:39 GMT -6
Her breath was a little heavier once she finished. And she glared at him in silence, but it was an odd glare because there wasn’t really any motivation behind it; it was a glare for the sake of being a glare, anger for the sake of getting angry. So what exactly had just happened to her? Her mind reeled for a moment as he gave her time to quieten down, for her breathing to slow. She had so many things she wanted to scream about, could it be that because she never let herself scream about them, they had all just burst out of her. And Eluard had been caught in the crossfire. She lifted her gaze tentatively to the bar, her eyes spying Sonia staring at her through the smoke and noise and people. What must she think was going on?
He started speaking again. A large part of her wanted him to be shouting, wanted to deservedly receive from him what she had just hurled at him. But Saskia got the distinct impression that Eluard was not one to ever really lose his temper. She watched him as he spoke, eyeing the line of his jaw as his lips moved, but her essence holding on to every word to try and see whether there was anything salvageable in the situation she had just created.
It would be sometime from now that she would realise her carefully constructed façade had been lost somewhere in the red rage that had just consumed her. But for now, she barely noticed its absence as her figure relaxed, a coy smile returning to her lips that (almost) reached her true self. “You’re fucking brilliant, aren’t you?” It was an insult, but a compliment. She was smiling as she said it, voice lowered and smooth. “The man with all the answers.” The smile faded, eyes flickering back to him from where they had wandered to the dance floor. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t think that was meant for you.” Again, the habitual tilt of the head appeared. She narrowed her eyes towards him, concentrating. “If that makes any sense – I think you were just….” She shrugged, “well, wrong place, wrong time springs to mind.”
A huff of amusement. “I know I made no sense…” She trailed off, absently biting her lower lip. She didn’t want to have to spell it out for him, but with every minute that passed he was either completely oblivious or waiting until she admitted it herself. A resigned sigh deflated her slim figure slightly. “Look… do you really not get this?” She gestured between them again, question ringing out over the thud of drum and bass. “I… do I have to spell it out for you?” She shook her head absently towards the bar, Sonia’s words ringing in her ears: he’ll be up and away as soon as you flash your armband. She was probably right.
A hand disappeared momentarily into her bra, pulling out the little scrap of red material that lay within. She held it out towards him, eyes patient. “Makes a bit more sense now, I bet. Ha… well, maybe not all of it.” She withdrew the hand that held it and slipped it up her right arm until it rested just beneath her shoulder. Determinedly, she resisted the temptation to look over to the bar.
“I… I can’t want anything from you. That’s kind of how this things works,” She said, shrugging the shoulder with the armband on. “I can’t ask anything of you because, well, the customer is always first. So by all means, I’m not stopping you…” She nodded towards the exit laminated a few meters away from them. “I should get fired for what I just said to you anyway, so it probably is better if you go. Unless you want to file a complaint, which,” She shot him a guilty smile, “I could understand.”
“But if I could,” She started, one hand coming to rest on her hip as she considered him. “I’d ask you to stay, just a little longer, so I can play your little tests until I lose or until my 20 minutes is up.”
A wider, more devilish grin, something amusing her. “Oh. And about that 20 minutes thing… just to clarify. The deal was, if I could get you to sleep with me in 20 minutes I’d get longer. If not, 20 minutes and my time’ll be up.” Narrow eyes were watching him, waiting for his reaction. She half expected him to walk out of the door and never look back. Blonde hair, spiked on one side, shifted slightly across her shoulders as she tilted her head fractionally once more, waiting for an answer.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 7, 2012 10:28:34 GMT -6
A moderately dry look was his initial reply to her new insult and after she uttered the continuation he turned, intent on leaving again, coat slung over his back whipping about him, but her apology stopped him for the second time in his tracks. He listened without turning, his eyes trained on the dance floor. Finding that he could understand the sentiment and relate to it quite closely for he had done much the same to a certain other pink-haired teenager just the other night, he lost the edge in his eyes and turned once more to listen to her properly.
The way he waited patiently probably explained that indeed, he did expect her to be straightforward about it. When she produced an armband from the sanctuary of her bra it did enlighten something, just not what he was actually wondering about. In any case, he didn’t seem too surprised. Eluard offered a “Tsk” at her explaining how she was thoughtfully offering everything and asking nothing of the “customer.” His eyes narrowed a little. “Perhaps you should start out by making it clear to the customer that they are a customer in the first place… not to impugn your skills of figuring out how to handle the situation, but more clarity could spare you wasted effort.”
He looked away from her when she told him he could file a complaint, gaze trailing thoughtfully to the counter. Perhaps the gesture could suggest that he was considering it, but his mind was miles away. It wasn’t in his nature to complain when he didn’t like the salad they served at the restaurant, he would simply stop returning to it. As things stood, he wasn’t a regular of Easy Street and he wouldn’t have been even if she’d treated him like a Persian prince, so there would be no loses there.
When she did express the desire of wanting him to stay, however, his gaze immediately turned back to her. “Why?” It had been a very quick follow up thought, an almost reflexive one. A half-smile appeared quickly after and he huffed some amusement into his collar. “You’ve already failed my tests.” He brushed a hand onto his forehead and smoothed an escaped strand of blond hair back. “Because of the intention behind your approach.” He nodded to the armband on her shoulder.
He considered the words about her deal with thoughtful eyes averted; one of his hands in a pocket and the other still holding onto the coat. This consideration lasted for quite a while but when he was done the absolute unlikeliest came from his mouth. “Alright.” His keen eyes sought for hers, he dropped the coat on the sofa’s back and came to stand before her more properly, both hands in his pockets now. He looked into her eyes for a meaningful quiet moment, so the nature of his acceptance could be taken in. She had a paying customer. "But. You have to promise me something.”
If she would suggest in any way that she wanted to know what that promise was, his eyelids would lower a little and he’d smile faintly. “Promise you won’t fall in love with me.”
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 7, 2012 15:01:32 GMT -6
She grinned at his point, but it did not quite reach her eyes. The façade had still not returned, but this sudden resistance was deeper than that. “I didn’t want to show you what I was.” She didn’t expand. Did she need to? 20 minutes of freedom to spend as she wished. She would have admitted to it eventually, if he’d shown any inclination that way, but she wasn’t even entirely sure Sonia would hold out on her bargain. It had been pretty spontaneous… “Failed?” She repeated, disbelief lacing her words and lifting her eyebrows skywards. Both hands slipped to cross over her slim waist, leaning her weight onto one leg. She shook her head, looking away and then dragged her fierce gaze back to him. “Okay,” She started, huff of amusement appearing from her throat. “Let’s just get this straight; if you’re not happy with my intentions, you can bugger off - because they weren’t harmfully meant. We need as much entertainment here as you do, with your fancy, suited, office job," (massive assumption, but she was finding it hard to care) "And besides, if your tests have failed me already then there might not be much point in continuing…” She trailed off and then shook her head again. She didn’t want him to leave. There was still a good 15 minutes of time left until Sonia tore herself from the bar and came to find her.
There was silence for a very long time. Well, silence between them at least. The constant pounding music remained, occasionally decorated by screams or shouts from the crowds. Every time the song changed, morphed into another, the crowd seemed to realise halfway through its introduction that they knew it and all went mad. She was beginning to lose hope, hand already sliding up her arm to remove the red bandage when he spoke again. Fingers paused, just touching the material, hovering uncertainly over it. He approached her after dumping his coat, eyes wrought with significance. She widened her eyes slightly, to make sure she was interpreting him correctly. Did he mean it? Gods. She was never going understand this one.
Saskia cocked her head again, cueing him with her questioning expression to continue. As he spoke she felt her features drop into disbelief. She remained frozen for a good second or two after he finished and promptly fell into hysterics. It was like a balloon of laughter that had been pent up in her stomach for weeks, months, with no excuse to come free. And it was genuine amusement and ye gods, it felt good.
Just as it was beginning to die, she attempted to pull herself back together. “Eluard. I have never met anyone with quite such arrogance as you.” She paused in her recovery, considering what she had just said and then shrugged, indifferent. “Take that as a compliment or an insult. I guess it could be both.” One hand came to lazily cup his cheek, “I swear to you, sweetheart, I won’t do anything of the sort. I don’t think love is even possible for someone in my trade.”
She took a few paces back to the sofa and collapsed into it, scooching as far up it as she could to leave room for him and then twisting, lifting her legs off the floor to sit with them crossed underneath her on the sofa, facing where he would sit. “Besides, we’ve already had our lovers spat and reconciliation… in the space of about 5 minutes of meeting each other. And I don’t feel no different because of it. So. I promise.” A wide, amused grin.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 7, 2012 16:47:07 GMT -6
Eluard raised a brow, apparently not taking her “failure” quite as seriously as she did if the lighthearted tone in which he gave his reply was anything to go by. “You don’t even know what you’ve failed about. Why get so defensive?” He considered her for a moment and then looked away. “You don’t even need to answer that.”
The pause in discussion had been had, his reaction to her words had been shown and now she was laughing her heart out. Relief flooded him on the inside and a small thorn stuck in his pride, the latter easy to disregard. When she made her comment, he offered a more generous smile, one of his hands went behind his back and the other came to his chest and he bowed his head a little. “Delighted to be your first.” His eyes were sparkling with amusement and he was visibly relaxing into a different sort of disposition. In any case, her reaction seemed to calm and please him and the verbal reinforcement and touch were welcomed.
She left for the sofa and assumed a borderline meditating Buddhist position on its cushion. Eluard followed her, eyes still warm with amusement when she made her vow. “Good,” he told her simply then crossed his arms and raised a hand to rub at his chin slightly while appearing puzzled with something to do with the couch or her. A moment later he sat next to her, or in this case, in front of her, facing her with his left side. The foot of his right leg came to rest upon his knee. His left arm was on his leg while his right elbow balanced on his right leg and that hand was cradling the side of his tilted head.
He closed his right eye and watched her from the one still open, chin lifting just a fraction. “Is this the part of the evening where you ask me about myself and I should tell you a lot of compromising things you swear you’ll never share with anyone?” She was his first “working girl” and the protocol of it was available to him only from imagination or bad movies. Realizing that, in this case, it wasn’t his duty to set the pace or make the effort to seduce the other, he looked away from her, kept both eyes open and, with lowered golden lashes, stared at the untouched martini glass on the table – the one she had initially offered him.
And so, he was slipping into thoughtfulness again. When he spoke again, it was to inform of a practical detail. “You should know, that should we see this though, I expect to take you to my apartment.” There would be no low lit, shady back rooms, no love hotels or any other proposed location that might as well be a set-up as well as improper from his perspective, for what propriety even mattered in the situation.
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Saskia Murlew
✖ humans
([url=http://tinyurl.com/d2wul2l]Application[/url])
Posts: 34
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Post by Saskia Murlew on Sept 8, 2012 9:44:41 GMT -6
A bubble of laughter. “Something like that. Though it doesn’t have to be compromising. That’s the great thing about this, isn’t it? The association is so temporary we could pretend to be anything – anyone - we wanted.” She bit her lower lip, considering him, hands coming to grip her calves where they crossed on the sofa. That material felt soft and comforting beneath her. They must have had the cleaners in recently…. “Take you, for instance. For all I know you could beee…” She trailed off, deciding, fiery eyes concentrating on his face. “A police officer. No… better than that, you’re too clever to be your usual bobby. So chief of police or his right hand man. Or a civil servant who writes those speeches for the politicians. You know, the ones that actually have the brains while the men they work for have the fame.”
“Or,” She continued, leaning forward conspiratorial. Her eyes were still sparkling with amusement, blonde hair suddenly flaring up red as a strobe light threw itself towards them. “You could just be a desk-bound clerk who’s getting bored of his snobbish wife and looking for different company…” Saskia trailed off expertly into nothing, letting her face stop just before it reached his, her lips outrageously close to his own. And then she snapped back, knowing smile curling her lips. “You choose. You can be anybody. I wouldn’t know a truth from a lie and – let’s be perfectly honest – in the time we’re going to know each other, that probably doesn’t matter.”
In some ways, she didn’t want him to spill the truth. She quite liked his company – for once, it was challenging, not just a game of looks and seductiveness. She was using her intelligence, her wit, for the first time in a long while. And she didn’t want to learn something that could be used against him. Because occasionally, they came here; government workers, often posing as someone else, but you couldn’t mistake their prowling eyes and curious questions. She had even been paid before now by a few of them, to give them information about politics to add to their smear campaigns – especially nearing the elections. It was best to not hear some things, because if you didn’t know them, you couldn’t give them away. Plausible deniability.
“Or,” She admitted, finally, her eyes softening just slightly. “we could make a deal. And speak only truths all night. But there would have to be one rule: that if the other person asks a question that the other can’t or won’t answer without lying, then we simply say ‘skip’ and we don’t answer it at all.” She stopped, grinning, and cocked her head to one side. “You choose.”
It was his practical statement that drew back her façade. It worried her slightly that she hadn’t even noticed its absence. But it fitted back into place easily enough – not completely blocking her from him, but just enough to place a thin film over the surface of her soul. Just enough to stop her from saying anything stupid. She bit her lower lip again, studying his face for a moment before she answered. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been invited back to patrons’ homes before. She’d almost done it on numerous occasions because the back rooms here weren’t exactly plush. But they were safe, or comparatively so. The other girls did it occasionally, but so far she had managed to persuade her customers to stay – something that she didn’t think would work with Eluard. The way he had said it made it sound like it was a non-negotiable fact. She sucked in a resigned breath and nodded, sly grin gracing her lips. “Alright. That’ll make the second first of the evening. But I think I can trust you enough not to knife me.” She flashed him a charming smile and let him believe she was feeling as calm and in control about this new development as anything that had come before.
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Eluard Verlaine
✖ mutants
([url=http://tinyurl.com/cab4jzn]Application[/url])
Posts: 127
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Post by Eluard Verlaine on Sept 9, 2012 9:05:17 GMT -6
When she started talking he angled towards her more, subtly showing that she once more held some claim to his true attention. The proposal of playing a role returned a ghost smile to his lips, for they were doing that already, with short slips of honesty. He watched her stack guesses about his profession, eyes studying the details in her expressions. Even if their interaction would end right now he wouldn’t forget her, he couldn’t, the wit in her eyes and easy grin forever stored in his supernatural memory in perfect condition. She was shortening the gap between them, with her practiced charm coming teasingly close before dramatically pulling away. Eluard’s gaze had softened to her approach and he was clearly drawn to her, even if the only true hint of it was the intense look in the calm depth of blue eyes.
Experiencing her was like observing himself when in her role and there was certain magnetism to finding someone else who knew the game well. “And you’re probably striving for a master’s degree in flattery,” he commented when she was done fabling about what he could be. Eluard didn’t sound displeased. Immediately agreeing to her suggestion wasn’t something he was in a rush to do. He played roles every day, every moment. It would literally mean no real change in his attitude so when she proposed the alternative, the actual challenge of it seemed to spark his interest. Speaking truth while trying to preserve a million secrets was a game he couldn’t pass up. “I opt for the second.” His eyes gained a notch in outward intensity, as if he was planning on having her say “Skip” through it all.
His gaze was averted so he didn’t catch her shrouding herself from him. As he stared at the still moist martini glass, Eluard felt strangely detached from the whole situation, from the idea that he was a “client” and she was offering some service. Some part of him wanted to cancel the whole affair but a significantly more prominent aspect of him that was cold and empty and entirely too aware of the coming underground war told him that it didn’t matter. His blank expression colored back with focus when she answered his statement. “I appreciate your trust.” It was a serious statement, an acknowledgement of her unique concession. She was playing a dangerous game but he had given reason enough to appear as if drawing her in for slaughter wasn’t on his to do list.
“I guess it’s my turn.” Eluard turned towards her properly; his left arm resting on the sofa back’s top, head tilted slightly. “First thing first.” His gaze fell on her shoulder and a finger came up to brush against her armband lightly. “Remove this. I don’t want it to limit your creativity or choice. I’m employing you for the experience of your company with its Dos and Don’ts and the compensation at the end of the night will be based on how true you remain to keeping within your comfort.” His gaze swept to the side. “I won’t appreciate it if you do anything you’ll feel wildly against and if the alternative means you don’t get to fulfill your “purpose,” be aware that it’s more beneficial to your end payment than going along with incredible reluctance.”
Since they had decided to speak only truth, the reality of the situation was that Eluard couldn’t stand the thought of forcing her to do something that would make her curse him in her subconscious, whether it be under the threat of knife or the allure of payment. It wasn’t who he was and he wasn’t going to start on a wildly new path tonight. His eyes returned to her. “Feel free to come up with any means of entertaining me that you can conceive of, so long as they’re not located in dark alleyways or other incredibly shady locations.” A smile. “If the adventure in itself leads us to not get back to my apartment, then so be it.”
He took one of her hands then and shifted in his position so that he could turn it slowly in both of his, eyes trained on examining it with a subtle narrow. “So tell me. For how long have you been working as a…” He let his words trail off, meaning implied. “And why would you resort to such a thing?” His expression softened just a little. “And who was the bastard you saw in me when I turned to go not very long ago?”
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