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touchofhell:

“Good.”

Neel noted Moe’s confidence. Despite her quiet demeanour, she didn’t seem to shy away. She would certainly need to maintain that attitude once richer, more particular clients come her way.

The waiter returned, plates in hand. Their meals were placed before them and Neel’s stomach silently gurgled in agreement. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something substantial. Was it yesterday? Perhaps even the day before? He didn’t wish to think too hard about it.

He offered his thanks to the waiter. Before Neel had a chance to pick up his fork, he overheard a commotion outside the restaurant doors. Though the sound was muddled, he could pick up the distinct rage laced in the man’s voice. Neel gave a curt sigh through his nose.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said to Moe, pulling his cane to his side as he stood. The bodyguard he had brought along was stationed by the door and soon his voice cut off the enraged man’s. Another shout. Then silence. Neel froze where he stood, hoping his bodyguard would walk through the door, tell him the problem was dealt with. As luck would have it, a drunken mess stumbled in instead.

“You mother f-fucker,” spat the man. It didn’t take Neel long to realize who he was.

“Mr. Cain,” Neel said flatly. A former client, Thomas Cain. He had always been an angry man, but had taken it too far one night when he nearly killed one of Neel’s escorts. Of course, she attacked in self defence, almost severing Cain’s eye with a piece of glass. Cain had been taken away by the police and hospitalized, but his presence made it clear he had received no sentence.

     Moe began to eat her food while he isn’t looking-- a little disappointed that the lobster had come as a set of tails, open and ready to eat. She picked one up with her hands-- he wasn’t looking, anyway-- and began to eat up the meaty contents.

     Her sloppy eating isn’t disturbed by the presence of the drunken man, but she does set the half-eaten tail down and begin to clean her hands. He’s obviously disturbing their dinner with the commotion he’s causing. It’s enough for her to clear her throat. She directs her gaze to the drunken man, calling to him:

     “Is there a problem, Mister?”

[asphyxiiate-blog]

avariiitia:

He catches her off guard slightly with the question; she averts her gaze for a moment. “…I came to see him, at first. But it isn’t… like that, anymore. I was away for a long time, I don’t really talk to him, or Percy for that matter.” Pushing back her hair, she manages to restore eye contact.

”—I came here, because I needed to know what was going on. Xand— Dr. Aristov, is a friend of mine. He knows what I am. Pride became a danger, I wanted to help.”

     “And you’re okay with that? --Where’s your sense of self-preservation?” Kennedy leans his arms against the table. “And honestly, Flick, how could you possibly help with Pride? You never did. You could never bear to see him harmed. Look where that got me.”

     He rubs his hands along his unshaven chin. “I don’t know why you came to see me. I hope you didn’t expect me to just forget everything that’s happened.”

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Throwback Thursday.

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touchofhell:

“Of course not. He’s a lawyer - defence attorney. He’s been married for over ten years now, but his wife doesn’t know about his affairs. Or doesn’t care to know. I couldn’t tell you.” He pauses, taking the time to sip his wine.  “—He’s an average looking man, nothing special or horrendous about him, but he does like a show. Don’t be afraid to offer him some entertainment before getting down to the real business - I’ve been told he tips well if you do… He’s certainly one of our tamer clients, so you have nothing to worry about.”

     She nodded along, hunching over to lean her elbows onto the table. Moe had heard of and dealt with worse. All of this sounded reasonable enough; hell, anything that had come out of Neel’s mouth had been more than reasonable. Moe had never been able to pull in the money she would be making with him. For her, it was all rather a profitable scheme.

     “I’m not worried about it. I know I’ll do just fine.”

[asphyxiiate-blog]

touchofhell:

The waiter looks to Neel.

“—A roasted caponata, chickpeas and goat cheese salad with your house soup on the side.” With his order, Neel neatly arranges their menus and returns them to the waiter, who leaves with a small dip of his head.

“You’ll be happy to hear I already have a client interested in you,” Neel says, a sip of wine to follow.

    Moe looked at her glass of wine as he ordered his meal. She clasped it in one hand, put it to her lips, and took a gulp. Her tongue taps against the top of her mouth a couple of times to help the taste down. Not that she doesn’t like it. The taste is something she has to just get used to.

     His mention of a client has Moe directing her attention back to him.

     “Can you tell me anything about him? I figure he doesn’t have lice.”

[asphyxiiate-blog]

touchofhell:

Neel nodded and the wine was poured. He took a sip without delay, savouring the taste before he returned his attention to his guest. A smile drew, proving her point perfectly.

“Force of habit,” he told her. The wine glass returned to the table, Neel’s thumb brushing down its stem. “—Besides, with a great smile like this, why shouldn’t I show it off?” The man’s ego practically soaked the air.

“Now then, what would you like to eat? Pick anything you want. The chef here is a miracle worker.”  

     She rolled her eyes.

     Moe looks down at the menu. It doesn’t take her long to pick what she wants. She sees what she knows on the menu and goes for that. Easier to pick a word she knows than have Neel know that she isn’t fully literate.

     “Lobster.” She looks up at the waiter. “And rice pilaf.” She’ll have to thank Zan later for teaching her the names of sides.

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     “Sure.” Zan’s told her time and time again not to trust men. She was a broken record about it, but Moe considered this different. He was a glorified pimp. No one would ever bring her to a place like this for nothing. Neel’s actions made her think of a cookie-cut gingerbread man. Fake as fuck.

     She would eat his food and drink his wine, though. Moe wasn’t going to say ‘no’ to freebies, even if it all wasn’t actually free. Might as well bank off all his buttering up now.

     “You're too smiley. You know that, don’t you?”

@asphyxiiate

Neel was a man built on good impressions. Each business arrangement was graced with a winning smile. Each meeting beginning and ending with a firm, professional handshake. Each outing spoiled with pleasantries rarely resisted. He aimed to pleased… But not for their sake. No, Neel was the cunning fox, smiling wide and teeth at the ready. He played his role, dressed and talked the part, until he knew he had them in the palm of his hand, free to mould as he saw fit.  

Neel was a man fuelled by selfishness, soaked in greed. 

When he invited Moe to a fine, quiet, gourmet dinner, it was not a congratulatory event, an induction into Puzzles, as he had told her, but a lure, a lure to keep her tethered to him and to the company. Her ‘talents’ were sure to bring in the money he needed and he wouldn’t be so quick to let that go. 

“—Wine?” Neel asked. The waiter appeared on command at their table, a bottle ready to be poured.

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Send me "alt!" and I'll introduce you to a character I've rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!

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avariiitia:

It’s difficult to comply with his demand. Felicity has spent years not talking about what happened - letting it rot inside her, compounded more recently with the loss of Kennedy; or what she believedwas a loss. Pride had been cavalier in causing her to think Kennedy was dead; he never confirmed or denied it, but insinuated. She hadn’t permitted herself to dwell too strongly on it, unwilling to sink back into a depression. She dearly wants to say how sorry she is for abandoning Kennedy at his darkest time, despite her reasons for doing so.

“…I thought you were dead.” She straightens her back tensely.

“—How did you get here?”

     “A few months ago, that would have been easier than being alive.” Kennedy moves to the table, settling himself in the empty chair. He doesn’t want to snap at her, or  tell her these ugly truth. They roll out regardless.

     “I was given over to Monolith. Pride was getting bored and tired.” He shrugs. His eyes drag up to her. “Did you come to see me? Or did you come to see him?”

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     Monolith is the first place Kennedy’s been comfortable in since his time with Pride-- since his time with Phaedrus. They’re reasonable enough here, with their accommodations for him. But it had taken so long to get back into the comfort of living like a human again.

     Seeing Flick in the hall previously was a shock of cold water thrown over him. He never expected to see her-- not here. Maybe not ever again.

     He doesn’t know why he agreed to see her. Maybe he wants to forgive her. Maybe he knows it was not entirely her fault. He had made one too many mistakes back then; got Ellie into more mess than he meant to. They’re both here now, though. At least she seemed to be picking up the pieces well enough.

     Felicity’s voice is something he hasn’t heard in ages. It’s immediateness is another cold shock. He shuts his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his palm.

     “I don’t want to hear it, Felicity.” He drags his hand against his cheek, rubbing against bristles. “Don’t apologize. Don’t get me started about it. Anything else but about what happened.”

+ @asphyxiiate 

The space is only a little less intrusive than the high security wing - it’s still white from floor to ceiling, with no windows. Felicity assumes it’s some kind of consultancy room; or interrogation room? Really, she still has only a small idea of what goes on here at the labs. She sits on one side of a table, clasping her fingers nervously. Her request to see Kennedy had been granted by Xander on the condition that Kennedy himself consented to it. When her former lover enters, he’s accompanied by an intern who then leaves, shutting the door and closing them together. Felicity rises from the chair. 

“—Kennedy. I…” Any prepared speech fades fast on her tongue.

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this is pretty darn obvious, but I'm taking hiatus on all of my blogs until I'm finally able to actually sleep without feeling guilty for using my time like that instead of doing hw. |:

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aight I’M ACTUALLLY ONLINE FOR ONCE like for a starter bruhs

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          half full  ,  half nothing

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@avariiitia and @touchofhell y'all are talking about Halloween stuff and I Want In

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@ovcrflow (x)

     “I only lie sometimes. I’m not, like, saying that every single person lies all of the time. I’m saying.... every person lies. So ‘people lie all the time’. It’s true.”

[asphyxiiate-blog]

     “--What?” He looks down at his shoes. They were priced into the hundreds. “They’re not ugly. They’re Gucci.”

@asphyxiiate

“Those are…” She’s breathless. “Those are the ugliest fucking shoes I’ve ever seen. Please take them off.”

[asphyxiiate-blog]

threads that give your character a chance to grow as a person 👌👌

threads that challenge the estabilished state of your muse’s mind 👌👌👌

threads that divert from your usual standard in a provocative way 👌👌👌👌👌