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bestiatexere · 6 years

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Valentines 2019

Valentine’s Day was another of the humans ridiculous celebrations, and usually it was one he found quite distasteful. Participating in it had never interested or occurred to him before, but he found it now to be the perfect way to slip his little songbird a gift in a way that meant she might actually accept it. To see her wearing it would bring him amusement and great satisfaction, as in his mind she would be drawing herself closer to him, becoming more and more his…

But no doubt the singer would receive a number of gifts from admirers this day, so perhaps she wouldn’t even notice or dwell on one in particular, perhaps he shouldn’t have bothered. But there it was, the gift from him, waiting for her to find it; a small, somewhat flat box. Black, and topped with a red ribbon.

A small, white card was tucked beneath the red satin of the bow. The thought that she might throw the gift away or back at him (or worse, give it away to someone else) just because it was from him was what kept him from signing the card with his name. It simply read ‘Miss Dulcet’ in an elegant font, to make clear that it was indeed left for her and her alone. It wasn’t much to go on at all, would it be enough for her to at least guess who it was from? Only time would tell, and he was looking forward to hearing from it.

What lay within the box was an expensive, glittering hair accessory. A silver hair comb with delicate swirls reminiscent of waves, and pale blue pearls and sapphires set within. Beautiful and of the highest quality, it would surely look stunning and do a wonderful job of securing the soft tumble of lilac hair Jackie possessed.

As he had walked the street earlier, he had noticed the comb displayed behind the clean glass of the jeweller’s window, along with matching hand mirror, brush, pins, and more. A new range, the small sign had said. ‘Siren’ it was called.

Siren.

He couldn’t think of anything more fitting for his little songbird, as perhaps that was what she really was after all.

Roses. Carnations. Chocolate and hearts. Huge bouquets crafted of the most vibrant daffodils and lilies and tulips, cradled along the arms of delighted women as they’d walked along the streets that day, all tittering in cheerful delight as they’d smiled wistfully against the broad shoulders of their adoring lovers.

Valentine’s Day again, was it?

Huh.

What an absolutely ridiculous holiday.

‘Stop that!’ Sharp growl ushered harshly beneath her breath at the absent thought, heels suddenly smacking just that much harder into the pavement as frustration grew, the evident furrow between her brows as she’d grumbled her way back to the club a clear warning sign to all those that’d wished to approach; veering them and their flowers off course as sheer self-preservation won out against their faltering and misguided admiration of her. ‘You are above being bitter about this, god dammit!’

Or at least, she’d so liked to think that she was. Yet to only add insult to injury, the female is so lost in the frustrations that she’s trying so very hard not be frustrated about, that she doesn’t even notice her awaiting admirers when she finally passes them by.

Well - they’d tried.

Terse aggravation continues to hound her the rest of the way to the venue, and the mood hangs heavy upon her frame as she shuffles through the entrance, deftly avoiding the rest of the staff with a swift shake of her head; a clear warning sign if anything, the female only all too unwilling to accidentally unleash the brunt of her irritation on whichever poor soul got on the wrong side of it.

It is only once she was locked inside her personal dressing room – of where was felt safe, secure and most importantly, entirely alone – does she finally allow herself the chance to groan.

Loudly at that, and punctuated with an angry huff as she shuffles her way to the couch, only to fall heavily upon it, an equally as hefty sigh palpable upon her lips as she goes.

Ugh, Valentine’s Day.

What a fucking joke.

“Can’t even ironically celebrate being single either.” The female obstinately complains to the empty room, hand waving about wildly as she’d heavy gesticulated through her words, though the ensuing silence that’d followed did very little in its part to provide her with any actual validation whatsoever.

Because hey, the truth was – she wasn’t actually single at all really, not in the least. But god forbid if she’d ever been made to feel like anything otherwise these past few months, for not even the most celebrated Day of Love was going to change the fact that her boyfriend seemed to be acting like he was anything but.

—- she really didn’t appreciate the reminder.

Tight grip upon the cushion beneath her weakens as the flood of irritation seems to slip out of her at the thought, lithe arm once again slumping gracelessly back against the couch, as the heavy pang that’d resonated deep within her heart pulsed an ache so severe that it was nearly enough to make her numb.

As it was, it’d almost felt as though she didn’t couldn’t seem to care anymore, so maybe true apathy was the next step in the heartbreak process.

It wasn’t like she was actually expecting anything otherwise. She hadn’t felt any sense of attraction from the man in months, she didn’t think she knew what it even felt like anymore.

Liar.

For a moment the female’s frame runs painfully stiff, body suddenly increasingly aware as eyes shot open comically wide, image already forming within her brain before she can hope to stop it – the glimmer of amethyst hues framed by perfectly styled strands of jet black hair, a dangerously knowing smirk upon a visage that she’d often wanted to slap the ever loving shit out of – FUCK.

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#long post #█║❯ SAVED — ( keeping this forever )#█║❯ VERSE: jazz — ( raz & jackie )#holy crap j !!! i HAVE NO WORDS #THIS IS JUST. SO AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL AND IM JUST #SO IN LOVE WITH IT #it flows so well and just. god i love to see her thoughts and reactions #and kdjnfjdkfn I LOVE HER SO MUCH #shes so cute searching the whole room and talking to herself #and just #i can picture it all so well! i feel like im there kfngkjfn #and !! SHE CRIEDDDDDD #PRECIOUS GIRL #SHE DESERVES ALL THE PRETTY THINGS OKIE #and skjdnjks raz is just. so so so pleased that she liked it and that she wears it so much!#it makes him wanna send her more stuff #also yes !! using his magic to put it in her dressing room #maybe he did think thats where all the things would go #but he also didnt wanna give the gift to someone else to deliver #and didnt wanna get seen #because then she would find out its from him and maybe get iffy and all #kdjnfkjnd BUT HE IS SO PLEASED AAAAAAAAAAAAAA #he feels like she is His now smh kfjndjkkjn #but also !! the garry stuff fkjnkfjgn :((#poor girl :((( but also THANK U THANK U FOR THIS. ITS SO PERFECT I DIE

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bestiatexere · 6 years

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█║❯ LACHALAINE — ( songbird ) ‌

God help her.

Oh, but how she’d absolutely and utterly abhorred this man already.

An accomplishment it was, really, considering they’d barely spent all of fifteen minutes together, a first meeting to boot; and yet despite all of that - here she was, already resisting the very real urge she’d had to lose what was left of faux pretenses enough to finally lunge and claw his eyes out.

Rather, she’d instead had to steel herself, leaving teeth gritted as yet another most aggravating shiver ran down her spine – the second in just as many minutes, and prompted by literally nothing more than the sound of clear amusement - of clear approval - that’d been ever so prominent in his voice.

She’d wished she was imagining it, but her heart hadn’t merely skipped a beat at that.

In fact, it’d felt like it’d downright bloody stopped, only to just as suddenly flood her with the sensation of warm pleasure; the authenticity of the smile he’d graced her with having just about stolen her breath along with it. For this was not at all the bitter revulsion she’d been expecting of him at her words. For that at least, she could entirely admit she was generally used to, most especially when it came to rejecting unwanted advances from men. Oh but by the gods no, this was instead the complete opposite of it.

And it was sending her stomach tumbling into knots already.

Fuck, she knew he’d be dangerous.

She just hadn’t quite realized yet by how much.

Yet in spite of her bodies’ most instinctual response, the female’s irritation never seemed to truly wane; clear upon her visage as mahogany hues remained glowering at him, narrowing only further when he finally seemed to decide to blessedly acquiesce to her wishes, only to then provide with but a mockery of a title that’d simply prompted her to roll her eyes in return.

He might have had a pretty face, and an equally as pretty voice to go along with it – but god forbid if she’d ever had to spend yet another second with a man as infuriating as this one. No matter how attractive he’d looked doing something as unseemly as downing back the remainder of his glass of alcohol in one fell swoop.

She’d ignored the way her mouth went slightly dry at that.

Oh, but if only it were altogether possible to have ignored him completely. And yet complete with the radiance of his eyes and a voice that’d slipped over with the sheer decadence of pure silk, the man appeared to have had a really natural charm that would have made any attempt at that to be entirely impossible; a talent he’d had really of — making an impression, so to speak.

Her heart was still fluttering something foreign as he’d walked away.

And she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that.

“Do not, Christof.” The sharpness to her tone wasn’t as curt as she’d have liked it to be when next she spoke, but it was the best that could be done considering the current maelstrom running through her. Her eyes as they’d settled upon the bartenders spoke volumes, even as his hand already reached for a glass for her from beneath the counter top. “Keep the cash, and the alcohol. I don’t want anything that man has to give me. It’d only make him smugger.” Such petulance, really.

The trait might get her killed one day.

And gingered brow cocked upwards at her words, the cynicism clear in the dark eyes that gazed back at her. “It’s just alcohol, Dulcet.” A low drawl, and one laced with all the judgement of which she didn’t need to know. “A miracle he even bought you any, considering you were kinda rough with ‘im. Ain’t gonna die from a little proper male attention, y’know.”

Ah, but if looks could kill. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. “I don’t remember asking for your input, nor do I remember wanting it. Besides, that wasn’t the point and you know it.” A harsh hiss beneath her breath, insolence dripping from her tongue like poison. She didn’t mean to be so rude, truly – but the interaction had soured her already terrible mood for reasons she couldn’t quite explain; and with all the buttons pushed, had very effortlessly prompted her ire. Ire that could not be contained -

An ire that she would rather spare the rest of the world from if she could. For cruelty it’d seemed, despite all her effort otherwise – was sometimes… second nature to her, really.

…she wasn’t proud of it.

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A glittering dress, clinging to the slender form of a blonde woman, blocked his (peripheral) view of the bar and the irritated singer. With a slight turn of his head, he found himself looking at a flirty smile curved on glossy, red lips. The woman’s thin arm, coated by the satin of her dark blue gloves, lifted and draped itself along the back edge of the booth he had settled himself in.

“You,” she started, voice attempting to purr with seduction, “Look like you could use some company. It’s not right for a man like you to be alone.”

He watched as her other hand played with the long string of pearls looped loosely around her neck, her movement born of mild excitement, the urge to fidget, and the subtle effort to draw his attention to her dipping neckline.

While she was an unwelcome distraction, and such things tended to annoy anyone whose plans were being interrupted, he could not ignore that her words and actions stirred up his amusement.

That human expression about getting a taste of one’s own medicine came to mind.

“Being alone doesn’t mean I need company,” he told her, “It means I want to be alone.”

To be able to focus on what was going on with his little songbird.

It was tempting, he almost leaned forward to peek around the woman before him just to see how the other was faring. Instead, his eyes stayed on the blonde, who seemed to be deciding whether or not it was worth trying to change his mind.

Her face was familiar, he noted, a regular at the club, but he couldn’t say if it was because she worked there or just frequented the place. Perhaps she would have some use in either case…

“Usually, anyway,” he amended, a smile flashing her way, “There are always exceptions.”

He heard her heart stumble in its rhythm, but her reaction was not nearly as satisfying as the ones he had gotten from Miss Jacqueline Dulcet earlier.

“So…that means, you want me?” the blonde asked, with her slightly uneven, white teeth taking a small, coy and hopeful bite of her lip.

To get out of the way? Yes.

His answer to her was a simple gesture for her to sit across from him as his smile remained. Thankfully, the woman was eager and moved to take her seat in a swift motion. With the obstacle removed, he could spot the bar once again (though the clarity of his view slipped in and out from between moving bodies).

“I’m Laney, by the way.”

Raz nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t respond with his name as would have been expected. He did, however, pull his gaze over to meet with hers and lean a little closer to her. It seemed as if he was going to share a secret with her, invite her into his grand world and make her dreams come true.

“I’ve noticed you, Laney.” His tone and the curve of his lips gave the impression that her presence was important to him, that he knew very well who she was and had desired her from the start. He didn’t dabble in lies, they made things too complicated and didn’t sit well with him, but he was no stranger to dropping hints and allowing others to draw false conclusions.

Once again, he heard the stumble of her heart. The rapid thumping of it spread a blush along her fair skin. She giggled and touched a gloved hand to her cheek, delighted but apparently sensible enough to roll her eyes as she grinned.

“Well, I do work here most nights, and even spend my nights off here too -”

Aha. So that question was successfully answered, as hoped.

“- so of course you’ve seen me around...”

She trailed off, her tone carrying a trace of hope, fishing for something more from him.

He delivered with another smile, “Mhm. It’s clear to me that you’re not like the other women here-” You’re exactly the same. “- and you’re completely different from that one in particular.”

His eyes and hand indicated the singer at the bar, his head tilted in that direction too. The words walked the line between compliment and insult, and even he wasn’t entirely sure how he meant them.

Ah, who was he kidding. Of course he knew.

Insult.

Laney was fairly pretty, and probably had a personality buried somewhere inside, but the thing was…he had absolutely no interest in finding it out. She was just a perfectly ordinary human. There was no mystery whispering to him through her blood. No darkness in her mind or heart. No sense of spirit or bold attitude dancing in her eyes or strengthening her voice and resolve. She was just a little firefly next to the intensity of an exploding star.

Luckily for him, he had managed to speak in such a way that helped Laney topple his words into the realm of compliment instead. Or perhaps she interpreted it the way she wanted to. Humans were good like that.

“You mean Jackie?”

It was asked in such a way that finally gave him a spark in interest in the blonde, as her face was pinched and shadowed by numerous emotions after the initial splash of surprise on her features.

“Jackie…” he repeated with a nod, both confirming to Laney who he referred to, and testing the nickname on his tongue, unsure if he liked it.

“Good, she’s…well, I mean, she…” Laney’s eyes turned upwards in thought for a moment, her lips pressing together and to the side. A shrug shifted her hair before her gaze found his again and she leaned forward, a hand raised to wall off the side of her mouth from prying eyes, “She seems nice enough, certainly turns heads and has some admirers, but there’s been some incidents, y’know? And all those rumours flying around…why, I heard the boss might just…let her go soon. That’s what happens when a person draws trouble so often, no matter who they are.”

The disapproving turn of painted lips told him that Laney probably felt Jackie deserved to get fired, perhaps she was even hoping for that outcome.

He simply nodded and allowed himself to look over at the bar, focusing his senses to pick up on what he could.

The first pair of men were still flirting with Jackie, using small touches along with what they thought were charming words. Raz followed the movement of the hand along the singer’s back, a prickle of distaste running down his own. He had thought to ensure none of the men tonight would go too far in their insistent flirtations, but perhaps he should have banned them from touching her at all…

She was his.

…Or rather, she would be soon enough.

His puzzle to solve, his little songbird.

Until he had her all figured out that is, and no longer had any use or interest for her.

Speaking of interest…how curious it was, that she had mustered up such polite words for these gentlemen! He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or amused at how differently she acted with him and them. What had caused her to modify her behaviour like that?

Whatever it was…it might just be wearing off. He noticed it as the pair of men left and were replaced by others. And others. And others. It was remarkable that she had such luck in using the key words that would free her from their individual pursuits of her.

But clearly, she didn’t feel quite so lucky.

The tension was coiling up inside her, he thought that she wasn’t so much a spring about to burst into movement, but more a bomb about to go off.

And go off, she did.

Laney had taken to gossiping to him, accepting his occasional nods, smiles, and glances at her as signs of his attention, but she cut herself off in a loud gasp as a crash shattered the atmosphere.

His ears pricked at the discordance of the instruments and the sudden hush that settled over the room. Startled heartbeats then threatened to dominate his sense of sound. Like everyone else in the club, his eyes were on the woman who had caused such a disturbance.

Unlike everyone else in the club, he smiled in dark approval at the sight of her.

Oh, look at you.

Anger. Frustration. The need for violence.

She glowed with it all. So much so, that he could imagine a vibrant aura of it around her, with that lush, purple hair of hers flowing around her because of it, lifted by the sheer, overwhelming power she possessed. As a war goddess on the path of vengeance.

It was a vision he likely wouldn’t get out of his mind for a while, and one that had him again driven to find out what she was. She had something different about her. He was sure of it. She couldn’t be a simple human…or else he was becoming rather too fanciful for his own good and making uncharacteristic mistakes.

The spell was broken as shock and fear seemed to wrap around Jackie, sapping the strength he had envisioned about her. Broken as easily as the glass that had been thrown to the floor.

He narrowed his eyes at the sparkling destruction. He appreciated her anger, but did she really have to make such a mess? What a waste of a beautiful glass!

His glass.

Well. Not his.

Not yet. But soon.

Everything in this very building would be his.

But for now, it belonged to the stout, rounded man who’d appeared and was snapping at Jackie. The two disappeared into the man’s office, and slowly the remaining occupants of the large room were swept back into their previous activities as swiftly as the debris from the debacle was swept up by the staff.

Music resumed, spreading through the area like a relaxing balm over the agitated, confused nerves of those present.

A nearby tsk brought Raz’s attention back to Laney. The woman’s disapproval was making itself known again, but he did spot a hint of concern just below the surface, hidden under the annoyance.

“There she goes again, causing trouble and making a mess. She’s done it this time, I’m sure, gonna get herself fired.”

Laney’s glance over to the office door directed his own gaze with it. A rare frown pulled his lips.

This wouldn’t do.

This wouldn’t do at all.

His little songbird was not allowed to be thrown from the nest. Certainly not before he learnt of all her secrets anyway.

“Laney,” he said, getting to his feet, “I won’t be right back. Go have some fun for the night, would you?”

He heard her surprised questioning, could imagine the wide eyes, confusion, and disappointment, but he gave her no more thought or attention. He made his way across the room, eyes shifting about slowly among the faces around.

The office door, along with the music flowing through the larger room, might have been enough to stop everyone else from hearing the owner yelling at Jackie, but Raz could hear perfectly well.

“- hell were you thinking!? I pay you damn good money and this is how you repay me!? Pulling a stunt like that, who the hell do you think you are, girl! You-”

Raz knocked sharply on the door and was acknowledged by a muffled curse from the other side, and then a demand to know who he was.

Instead of outright answering, he opened the door and took a step inside as he leaned around the solid object.

He didn’t so much as look in the singer’s direction. His eyes were on the other man, offering him an apologetic grin.

“Sorry, Mr O’Neal, it’s just me.”

The transformation of O’Neal’s face from barely contained rage into surprise, and the hurry of schooling himself, was almost enough to make Raz laugh.

O’Neal’s gruffness made a quick comeback, however; he gestured roughly, “Might as well come in then, Mr Silivasi.”

Raz entered and closed the door behind himself, attention briefly flicking over to the woman before returning to the agitated male with an explanation, “I just wanted to catch you both before I headed off.”

O’Neal’s impatience at wanting to return to scolding his worker, and his unease at having one of his newly favourite patrons around such an incident, was distracted by curiosity and the ghost of greed. Raz could see it in his eyes. He’d all but trained the man to anticipate gifts and generosity from him after all. Those greedy, human eyes glanced towards Jackie, confusion taking root in the form of a frown.

“Both?” he asked. He came to his own conclusion and shook his head, taking the cigar from his mouth and waving it in a conciliatory manner, “You won’t have to worry about this brat anymore, Mr Silivasi, I promise you that. So why don’t you get yourself a drink, on the house, and just forget about-”

Raz seemed not to have heard anything after O’Neal’s original question, “Yeah, both of you. See, I thought it was about time I made it clear again about how much I appreciate this place of yours.”

Of course, the last time he had shown his appreciation, it had been in the form of an expensive box of cigars (of which one piece of its contents O’Neal was currently holding) accompanied by a substantial sum of money.

O’Neal shifted his weight in a mix of pride and suppressed interest, somehow reminding him of a dog that was praised and awaiting a treat. But, O’Neal did apparently still have enough focus in him to eye Jackie questioningly and with a clear look of ‘don’t you dare mess this up for us.’

The man once again looked at Raz, “And the girl? She -”

Before any sort of attempt at explanation, apology, or falsehood could be made, Raz cut in with genuine and mildly amused words.

“She’s one of the biggest draws of this place to me. I wanted to tell her, and you too, that I loved her performance tonight.”

He turned his head and hoped to meet the woman’s eyes, humour alight within him, with the tinge of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, indicating the fact he was not at all referring to her singing earlier in the evening, which he had missed entirely.

“She’s my favourite source of entertainment,” he finished, eyes back on O’Neal with a hint of warning but holding a smile still, “Don’t let her get away, this place loses a great deal of its value without her.”

He could almost hear things clicking and whirring in the man’s head.

O’Neal started to nod in hearty agreement, “Of course, of course, Dulcet is damn near being a daughter to me anyway, wouldn’t be the same without her.”

Satisfied by the obvious lie, Raz gave a small nod in return before intending to leave.

“I’ll bring you both a gift next time,” he promised, his way of throwing a bone to the eager dog named O’Neal. He had a feeling Jackie would throw any gift at his face.

For now, anyway. But perhaps one day he would get under her skin…

#lachalaine #long post #█║❯ IN CHARACTER — ( razvan.txt )#█║❯ VERSE: jazz — ( raz & jackie )#JFC #WE ARE WRITING A NOVEL #KFJNGKFJNKfgjk mine is long. but its still like. legit 1000 words shorter than yours omg #I HOPE THIS WHOLE THING IS OKAY KFJNGKF #RAZ JUST. GETS RIGHT IN THERE WITH THEM #AND HALF ACTS LIKE SHES NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM OOPS. SHE IS FREE TO FOLLOW AND ATTACK HIM TBH #ALSO I HOPE THE BOSS GUY IS OKAY KFJNGFKJN HOPE HE LINES UP WITH WHAT YOU WERE THINKING. JUST. LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANT IT CHANGED AT ALL!!!#█║❯ THREAD — ( jackie.jazz.01 )

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