joan-the-bloody-blog - Tumblr blog

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Rolling her eyes at the comment that he wouldn't mind her stripping down, she smiled to herself as she walked into the kitchen. Of course he would enjoy that, she was gorgeous after all. It was still nice to know that her body had the exact effect on him that she had hoped for. Not that it really took that much to get a man's attention. A little skin, a little flirting -- they became undone in an instant. Chuck had been harder to get to admit to it, but the knowledge that he was just like others pleased her. Well, not just like the others. He was better than the rest, obviously. She wouldn't be interested in him if he was just like the rest of the plebs that haunted the city. Most of them were complete idiots. But Chuck? He was...special. Not that she was going to tell him that.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, waving her hand as she looked over his place, "You don't actually have anything good to eat." Joan opened a cupboard and frowned at the lack of food. She sighed dramatically before dragging her fingers along a near empty bag of bread. It would do. Grabbing the bag, she yanked it out of the cupboard, letting the door slam carelessly.

"Bread, I'm reduced to bread," Joan said, shaking the bag for emphasis as she walked back over to the couch. He was still sitting there on his ass like the layabout that he was. Sinking down into the cushions, she pulled out a piece of the loaf and took a bite. "Edible, but not exactly satisfying," she said, waving the piece out to Chuck, "Eat up, sweetheart."

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

"Well, I thought it was already obvious that you're hard whenever I'm around," she said with a shrug, "Makes more me sense for me to remind you what it's like to be soft too." Running her fingers lightly over his knee for a moment -- just as long as she thought she could get away with such a daring act -- she licked her lips before leaning back into herself. Teasing Chuck was far too much fun and the real emotions behind her over-sexualized lust drove her to be far more bold than she normally would have.

She swallowed hard as she tucked her legs underneath her. Sometimes, even Joan thought that she was too much, but then she remembered that she didn't really care. If she ever felt like she wasn't right then she was obviously just letting the wrong people into her headspace. She was gorgeous, smart, and strong -- absolutely nothing wrong with her refusing to play the whole shy and coy thing.

Joan scowled at the shove, her eyes all at once aflame with annoyance. God, she probably had feet germs on her now. Disgusting. She didn't care about getting down and dirty in a fight, but, outside of the arena, she preferred not to get disgusting because some idiot wanted to get physical. Although, she'd make an exception for Chuck when it came to getting sweaty out of the Coliseum.

"You want me to make you sandwich, honey?" she said brightly, jumping up from the couch suddenly as she decided to switch tactics, "I can put on one of those aprons you like. You know, the one with the matching lingerie?" Leaning over his body, her hand resting on the back of the couch, she smiled down at Chuck and gave him a wink. "The ones that make my ass look so fucking good all dolled up in lace," she whispered into his ear before pushing herself back up, "What do you want your submissive little kitchen wench to make you, sweetheart?"

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Coliseum's back up. Time to kick some ass.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

"Monks on fire," she said slowly, remembering the event from her history books. Well, from the one page of the history book that'd happened to be open when she'd actually glanced at her homework briefly before some guy she was entertaining cleared her desk clean for a better surface area. That had been the only good part of boarding school, really.

She could barely hold back a laugh at the way his face grew serious as though that proved how not soft he was. Amusing, that's what he was. Even when he was angry, she thought he looked hilarious. As though she would take anything he told her as serious advice. "I didn't say you were soft, Chuck," she said with a sigh as she pulled her legs up onto the couch, "I believe it was caramel. Warm, gooey caramel that sweet and sticky when you lick it off your fingertips." Her wide eyes held his before she shrugged and looked away. "But I guess you could say that was the same thing. If you were thinking simply, of course."

The idea of Chuck growing old -- well, older, really -- was disturbing. He would get to that point before she did, if he didn't die first. The point at which he was weaker and lesser. She wondered what it would mean for him as a gladiator. Would he be set to fight until he was killed one day in the arena by some young kid, or maybe even her? Did they get some sort of retirement and, if they did, would they just be thrown out on the streets?

"I think it'd be best to end it before you got to that point," she said, shivering slightly as she imagined just how the Titans would deal with an aged gladiator. Alcatraz was always an option; the fear of having to go back would never die.

Joan's stomach growled and she pursed her lips in annoyance. Even though they got more to eat than the average citizen, she couldn't help getting hungry at the most innopportune times. "You got any food laying around?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she settled deeper into the cushions, hoping he'd get the idea that she wasn't exactly in the mood to actually get up.

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

She shrugged, still in a friendly enough mindset to not want to bring up the subject of his wife. The fact that he'd been married intrigued her. All she really knew about Chuck was current; his past was a mystery to her. It was a question she often asked herself, usually when she'd been lucky enough to get some alcohol in her system. Death had been the obvious answer for a lot of people like them, the ones who had fought against the Order soldiers whether it was for the principle of the thing or if it was for their own survival.

"No one is," Joan said, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she looked up at him. The thought of dying didn't so much scare her as the thought of how she'd die. She hadn't wanted to die on some laboratory table on Alcatraz after years of testing and she didn't want to live till she just died of old age. That wasn't something to be proud of, there was no passion in that. "I didn't say that I wanted to kill you," she said, rolling her eyes slightly, "And I just thought that, even though you're the biggest asshole here, you're still not as fucked up as some of the Titans. You know, hard chocolate shell, but a gooey caramel inside."

And just as delicious.

"How do you want to die then? When you're all wrinkly -- well, more than now -- and you can barely get out of bed anymore. Go peacefully in your or whatever that bullshit is," she said, waving her hand as she spoke. 

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

"I'm pretty damn entertaining though," she said, tilting her head as she let her eyes slide down and back up his body. It was only for a moment though as she quickly remembered what had happened the last time she'd not so surreptitiously hit on him. Looking away, pretending as though the Van Gogh poster was entirely interesting, she wondered how they could possibly amuse themselves beyond the crasser images running through her mind.

Joan liked that his place was just as empty as her own. Not that there were many gladiators with massive amounts of personal items, but most had more than them. Her room was filled with only what they had given her. Beyond that, she had a locket with her kids pictures in it, but it wasn't something she wore or cared to have around much. The past rarely did her any good.

"Why aren't you dead?" she asked suddenly, her nose crinkling slightly as she turned back to him, "You actually had a life before all of this. You're not one of those sobbing pussies that whines constantly either. I would have thought you'd go down like a hero or some bullshit like that."

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Stella. The name made her mouth turn down though a small part of her found it endearing. Letting him know that, however, wasn't an option. The gladiator sprawled out the couch didn't just let things like that go. He'd proven that with the pretty debacle.

Joan approached him, her arms crossing at his accusatory tone. "I thought that you'd want some company," she said, cooly sitting next to him on the couch, "I know you don't really have anything better to do so I might as well drag myself over here." In reality, she'd only come because she'd felt so empty without any matches lined up, but projecting that onto Chuck was as close as she was going to get to having a heart to heart. "You really should get a lock for that door or something. Anyone could just waltz right in."

Her bright grin that punctuated that last thought would annoy him, she knew that much. Her entire existence probably bothered him. But that was an issue for another day.

Twisting a blonde lock around her finger, she raised her eyebrows at him as she sunk back into the cushions. "Randy is sticking just as much as I imagine Stella is so I think you can deal with it," she shrugged before sighing loudly, "Have you ever been so fucking bored in your life? What do they expect us to do? No fighting...it's complete bullshit. I'd rather be out brawling in the streets than stuck down here."

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Get Back // Chuck & Joan

The exhaustion of her time in Alcatraz and the tension the earthquake had taken Joan off the schedule for fights for a while. And with the Coliseum in need of repair before everything return to normal, she knew that it'd be a while before she'd get to feel the rush of adrenaline surge through her body. It fucking pissed her off, to put it lightly.

Tugging at the cord that ran along the hood of her sweat jacket, she wandered through the halls of the lower levels of the Coliseum. The doctors had been reluctant to let her wander, but she'd used her usual persistance to keep real threats of seclusion at bay. Besides, they weren't actual Titans and they felt bad about the whole imprisonment she'd had to go through. Apparently, locking up a pretty -- hell, she'd admit she was attractive -- gladiator was bad for business.

Joan brushed past a few others, not caring to pay attention to anyone else as she sunk into her bad mood, before smiling softly. There was one person she could deal with even when she got like this. It'd be unfair for her to keep her sharpened attitude to herself anyway. Slipping around a corner, she made her way to the gladiator's private quarters. He'd be ever so glad to see her and her smirk widened as she pushed his door open without a care.

"Randy, what the hell are you doing?"

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Fish? Oh, god that sounds disgusting. The puking...that was such a special experience. They only ever talk about that bullshit of the joy of motherhood.

Didn’t think so. You don’t seem much of the type to pry.

Ugh, don’t get me started. I’ll be damned if I can manage to get some fresh fruit around here. I never got cravings when I was, um, expecting, maybe because it ended as quickly as it began. I distinctly recall puking at the smell of fish, though.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Alright, fine. I wasn't that curious.

Tomatoes are fucking delicious, aren't they? I was constantly craving them when I was pregnant. It was seriously insane.

If I tell people, it tends to come back and bite me in the ass. I prefer to stay on a first name basis.

Damn, now I’m craving tomatoes.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

And your real name would be?

Touché. I’ll settle for my sub-par, significantly less badass name, if it means that I don’t have to go by my real one.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Like I care. You got hurt, isn't that what we should really be thankful for? ...you think I am concerned about getting into your pants? No. No. No. I swear to God, I will kick your ass if you insinuate that again. You're old and...unattractive. Not exactly high on my list, or even on it.

Good. Cause you’re not getting one. At least not from me. But yeah, alive. Beat the hell up, but alive. I will say that earthquake did more damage to me than you’ve ever managed. How does it feel to be bested by a natural disaster? Either way, I’m touched by your concern for me, Stella. Won’t get you into my pants still, but touched none the less.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

A saint? She was also a badass female warrior. I like my name. I just feel like a Joan. It's better than Randy.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. But yeah, I hate my first name so I tend to go by a shortened form of my last. To be fair, you’re named after a saint.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Chuckling as he trashed against her, Joan stumbled back a few steps. "Not too shabby," she said, licking her lips as she felt his blood rush through her and electrify her senses, "Thanks for the hit." The blood dripping from the wound kept her eyes bloodied and almost monstrous as she looked at him, walking closer to him.

Where's an Advil when I fucking need one?

Stephen opened his mouth to fire back, but only a gasp was released.  He thrashed out with his mind against the woman biting into his neck.  The panic of being caught off guard almost preventing him from grasping on to the human by the torso and throwing her back.  A warm trickle of red ran down, staining the color of his shirt. 

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

I wasn't asking for a handout, dumbass. Yeah, I am as alive as you are which is great, I guess. I was almost beginning to worry that we wouldn't get to fight again.

That other day was a one time deal. You want more, you’ll have to find them yourself. Take it you survived that quake if you’re standing in front of me. So good on you.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Yeah, that's me. Mac. So, were your parents high or what when they named you?

I wish I weren’t able to relate, but I know the feeling. I’m Mac. Joan, right? I’ve seen you in and out of the New Coliseum.

[joan-the-bloody-blog]

Raising her eyebrows, she just stared at him for a moment. "Oh fuck no," she swore, the words spitting out in frustration. Joan snapped forward with her fangs drawn, tearing them into the soft flesh of his neck.

Where's an Advil when I fucking need one?

Is your hair bottled or is it natural?