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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Jan 12, 2013 17:25:33 GMT -5
Johnnie stared at the ceiling, her eyes not focusing on any one particular point. It was what was commonly called the thousand yard stare and, as with everyone else afflicted by it, she was suffering from a combination of boredom and deep thoughts. She sat up slightly, reaching for a glass of the blood wine that she kept on hand, taking a swill of the laced liquor to ease her mind. The blood soothed the monster. Johnnie was tired of hiding behind the wild and the feral. It had been so easy, so simple, to slip into that persona when she was hurting. It had insulated her from the world and kept the hurting away when she needed it to. But now that she was mostly adjusted and had dealt with those triggers, it was best that the monster stayed buried with everything else from that time. She’d left Wyoming and she’d left Colorado, never to return. There was nothing there anymore. Sure, there may have been a cattle ranch or potato farm that was supposed to be hers, but none of those things really mattered in the end.
She snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of the oven timer going off, alerting her that the chicken enchiladas were done. She did everything she could to keep her mind in place and that included staying away from boredom. Boredom, like anger, was a trigger. She just kept going, she couldn’t stop moving. And so she shopped, she worked extra shifts, she read, she listened to music, and she cooked until there was no space left in her fridge. She opened the oven and pulled out the casserole with a clean, dry kitchen towel and set it on the table. As it cooled, she opened the fridge. It really was overflowing with food. The curry from two nights before was still sitting, waiting to be packaged and moved to the deep freeze next to the fridge, the roast from friday was still clinging onto life, a few chunks of the meat still strewn among the veggies. She frowned. She didn’t want to clean or process her way through this. No, she just wanted to eat this and put it away. She looked at the enchiladas again. There were a lot of them, a good portion bound to end up with everything else in the deep freeze. She sighed.
The deep freeze was her defense against the weeks where she was so buried in work that she had no time to do anything but work. It held at least a month’s worth of food for her, plus a few spare containers of animal blood for those days when she just had to have something to get down her throat before everything went wrong. It wasn’t tasty and it was necessarily pleasant, but it did the trick and kept her from getting out of control. She’d stuffed away enough food that she could feed what felt like an army unexpectedly showing up for dinner. There were soups and stews and the remainders of roasts and more baked goods than she cared to count. It was the accumulated effort of the last few moments of trying to keep herself in her sane state.
She looked at the enchiladas again, considering what to do with them. She spotted the strawberry sour cream pie (missing a couple pieces, it had served as breakfast and snack) she’d made the night before and a plan sprang half-formed and mildly unexpectedly into her mind. Even if there wasn’t someone here to keep her from losing her mind, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go find someone to feed. She had just the vampire in mind too, he was never one to turn down free food, especially if she or another female were carrying it. She tossed a lid on the enlichiladas and wrapped the hot dish in a towel make sure that she could carry it the distance she needed to. She then stacked the pie on top of the casserole dish and grinned at her cleverness. She reached for a bottle of the wine rack, before stopping and pursing her lips. Her target didn’t drink, something that was sometimes a little stultifying. But that was how he dealt with his monsters.
She slipped into a pair of boots, zipping them up over her jeans, before grabbing the stacked food, ducking out of her apartment, locking the door behind her and walked down the hall, resting the food on her hip. The walk wasn’t too far, it was one of the nice things about having all of the city’s housing being concentrated in one zone. After a few minutes walking, she found the door she was looking for and in proper Johnnie style, tried opening before actually knocking. Sadly, it was locked. She shook her head slightly and knocked loudly on the door before putting her hand on the hip that the food wasn’t resting on.
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note: she has pie!
words: 824
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Jan 12, 2013 18:21:45 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He'd just gotten home, slipping the key into the lock and opening the door to the sounds of his two dogs barking wildly. No, that wasn't quite right. His german shepherd was much to well behaved to be howling his head off like that. Which meant Ramses, his silly, young husky was probably on the other side of the door, making laps around the couch as he let out bark after bark, eager to have Daryll home. He chuckled lightly to himself as he pushed the door open, stepped inside and managed to grab Ramses by the collar before the dog could jump up on him. "Sit down Ramses, and be quiet, didn't I teach you better?" The dog promptly sat down, though his tail continued to wag and he appeared to not be bothered by Daryll's sharp, yet fond words. This seemed to be a daily routine for them, Ratchet would be patiently waiting at one end of the couch while Ramses threw himself into a hyper frenzy. Daryll excused it simply because Ramses was young, and with one sharp word the dog would sit down and shut up.
He made his way through his living room, into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Empty. Imagine that. Though if you opened the cupboard just to the right you'd find dog treats, bones, and below that was a large bag of dog food. Never would you ever find Daryll's house lacking the needed food for his animals. He adored his dogs, they were his companions, his babies really, and he would take care of them over himself any day. It didn't matter though, he would end up going out to get something to eat, he just needed a nice hot shower first. He reached to fill both the dog's bowls with food, reaching over to scratch behind Ratchet's ear before filling the large water bowl sitting in between the bowls. He shrugged off the leather coat he was wearing, draping it over a chair and made his way to the bathroom, the dog's would be busy eating and he'd have time for a hot shower, they wouldn't get into anything. He let out a long sigh as he reached to turn the shower on, making sure it was hot before discarding his clothes and stepping in.
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his wet hair before reaching for the shampoo. He was getting tired of doing the same god damn bullshit every day. It was making him edgy and the last thing he needed was to be on edge. He needed to go on a hunt, he'd have to see if Angelo wanted to go. He'd ask his father, but he was sure that Anthony would be busy with his work, besides he needed to let go, just for a day, and he hated any of his family seeing that side of him. So he'd ask Angelo, who understood, besides he was sure Angelo'd appreciate a chance to stretch his wings. Literally. Regardless, he needed to do something other than be cooped up in the apartment or in the city. He didn't mind the city, he enjoyed going to the clubs, even if he didn't drink, enjoyed his flings, enjoyed the city as a whole, but sometimes he just needed to get away, before he snapped and someone ended up dead. He finished washing his hair, washing the rest of him and turning the water off.
Stepping out he grabbed a towel, drying off quickly and walking into his bedroom to pull on a pair of old jeans and a simple t-shirt. He wasn't too keen on walking very far for food, so he'd probably just go to that little diner on the corner, grab something there and come back. He had just walked into the kitchen, noting that both Ratchet and Ramses were done eating and wrestling in the living room when the sound of someone trying to open the door came to his attention. He'd locked it when he had come in, an odd habit he'd picked up from who knows what, and for a moment both him and the dogs froze. Before that same someone knocked and both Ramses and Ratchet flew to the door, their barks loud. Now that Daryll was home there was a need to alert him to strangers at the door, even if he was right there. "Ratchet, Ramses, be quiet, sit down" He spoke as he moved to the door, Ratchet obeyed immediately, his tail wagging as he waited for the door to open. Unfortunetely Ramses was a bit thick-skulled, and in his excitement he only managed to stop barking.
For about five seconds as when Daryll opened the door and spotted Johnnie Ramses was already making his way to greet her. By jumping up on her. But he was a big dog, so jumping up on people was not an option. "Ramses! Down!" The command was given before Ramses hardly even had a chance to get to Johnnie, but both dogs were perked up at the smell of food. Daryll turned back to Johnnie, a lazy smirk making its way to his face as he rose an eyebrow, noting the pie on top. "That pie for me Jo?" He leaned against the door slightly, not yet inviting her in, simply just to be a jackass really.
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Jan 12, 2013 21:06:33 GMT -5
The waiting wasn’t going to kill her, but it very well felt like it might. She wasn’t really a patient person, never had been. She was the kind of person who acted before thinking, rather than thinking before acting. It was one among many of her negative traits and it was probably one of the ones that got her into trouble most often. Every day she was reminded of that tendency and it seemed like everyday she forgot to heed the warnings that her life had left for her. she was still alive, wasn’t she? Besides, half the thrill of anything was lost if you thought about it and really considered how much risk you were putting your life into by doing silly adventurous things.
The dogs started up a ruckus behind the door, she could hear them barking up a storm from the other side. That meant that he was definitely home, they hadn’t been that loud the last time she’d stopped by and he wasn’t in. Now it was just a waiting game. Knowing him, he was probably loading a gun or something in case she was a more threatening individual and not someone bringing him food out of the goodness of her heart. Also knowing him, he only had dog food in the house and nothing to sustain himself. Men. They always expected other people to do things they should rightly be doing themselves. Oh well, at least he gave her an outlet for all of her excess food, even if he did tend to giggle (yes, giggle) like mad raiding her freezer, picking out all of the goodies and leaving her with only a little bit of excess food in case of work overload. But that gap always got filled in again, so she wasn’t too angry about it.
The door opened and one of the first things she saw were the dogs heading straight for her. Now, she knew rationally that they were too well trained to actually bowl her over and eat all the food, but she still had the instinctual reaction to grab the casserole with both hands and move it up to her shoulder, theoretically out of their reach. She relaxed a little as the young one was called off, returning the food to her hip and stepping forward to head in. However, her forward progress was blocked as he leaned against the door and asked about the pie. Of course all he cared about was the pie. Man was going to kill himself this time, just with sugar and fat rather than a bullet of any type.
There were few enough people that Johnnie counted as her friends. The few that she had, well, sometimes she treated them with so much delicacy that she was afraid she’d scare them off with that approach. Not this one however. No, he’d seen her at her worst. She had very splotchy memories of that era, but there were a few and most of those were of hunting something down. Eating had been a cinch then, he could find a human faster than anyone else she knew and then they’d feast. Of course, then there was that time his parents showed up and took him home where they’d done god knows what to get him back under control and turned into the person that she counted on to hold her down to earth when she was at her worst. A little food every now and then wasn’t such a big price to pay for knowing that she could count on him to make sure she didn’t kill anyone she wasn’t supposed to.
She paused and looked up at him through mascaraed lashes. “Only if you let me through, ya big lug, otherwise I’ll give it to the boys, who I am sure would like it just as much as you would,” she said, picking up the pie to prove that she was serious in her threat. Okay, not really, but it was the best threat that she could come up with on a moment’s notice. And besides, two could play the asshole game just as well as one, she knew how much he loved his pie, having lost quite a few to yelling “PIE!” and attacking them in a rather uncivilized manner.
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note: >.> she's mean
words: 717
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Jan 13, 2013 16:08:23 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Not many people visited Daryll at his home, which made the list very short on who it could possibly be at the door. His sister or father, perhaps Angelo and Jo. He knew Angelo wasn't stopping by, and he was pretty sure his father was busy with something. Elizabeth hadn't been to his house in a while. So that left Jo, and as he opened the door his assumption was correct. He most certainly didn't mind Jo stopping, she was a friend and they'd been through quite a bit together. Besides, he knew what she went through and it was the least he could do to help her. And she brought pie. Daryll did have a weakness for pie, that was a pretty well known fact within his family and circle of friends. After saving the food from Ramses he leaned against the door, smirking at Jo, his eyes flicking down to the food. He had a habit of stealing half the food out of Jo's freezer, the woman made so much damn food, it was only right that he ate it. Otherwise it would sit in her freezer till god knows when and be wasted.
So he took it upon himself to help out, and by help out he means clear out half of her freezer in almost one sitting. She did cook a lot though, which he understood, it was better for her to be shoving her freezer full of food then having nothing to distract herself. He smirked at her as he asked about the pie, and promptly huffed, looking a tad disgruntled at the thought of his dogs getting the pie instead of him. "Alright alright, no need to sacrifice the pie Jo, c'mon, get in here" He pushed himself from the door, turning to walk further into the room, Jo'd know to shut his door. "What else did you bring?" Hopefully something good, he hadn't particularly wanted to leave his home to go find food, so he was a bit happy that she had shown up. He walked into the kitchen, running a hand over Ratchet's head while Ramses buzzed around Jo, probably thinking if he hung around her she'd give him some food. Daryll didn't condone giving his dogs human food, he loved his dogs, he did, but he didn't spoil them like that.
He moved to the fridge, opening it and glancing in again. A half carton of milk, a bottle of water, one can of soda, and a Gatorade sitting in the back. Not a lot of choices for drinks either. He'd have to stop and get some more water and another carton of milk. "I don't have a lot to drink, but take whatever you want." He himself grabbed a water, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink before leaning against the counter. "You know, you could always shove food in my freezer. I wouldn't mind at all" It'd save him from having to go out every night to get food, and maybe that way Elizabeth would stop badgering him about not having any food in his fridge. So he didn't go out and shop for food, big deal. He had other things on his mind other than whether there was food in the fridge. He could get it somewhere else, and besides, it wasn't like he couldn't live without food. He'd just have to deal with the human pets more, that's all. He took another drink of his water before pushing off of the counter and moving over to where Jo stood.
Both dogs huddled around him, hoping that perhaps today Daryll'd be kind enough to toss some food their way, even though it never happened. He smiled lightly, an actual smile, not a smirk, or a mocking grin, but a smile, as he saw what she had cooked. For all their snide remarks to each other they did do quite a bit to help the other. Daryll did his best to help her, keep her under control, and she kept him fed. It might not have seemed much to an outsider, but Daryll appreciated it. Jo could have stopped with him when his parents took him away, helped him gain control, she could have skipped off to find someone else to wreak havoc with, yet she trusted him, respected him, and wanted his help. And even though he tended to be a jackass to her more often than not, he was happy to give his help, happy to have Jo around. To be her friend. And because he was her friend, he got to eat all of the food in her freezer. Really, it was a win win situation for them both. (And it helps that her pies are just about the best he's ever eaten.)
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Jan 13, 2013 21:20:33 GMT -5
“Kin’s all y’got but fer yer life,” was something that Johnnie used to hear all the time from her Grandfather Mercer on the rare moments that the old man left his ranch to sell cattle in Cheyenne. He’d been a grizzled old man and he and her ma’s brothers, the uncles Malloy (they’d given up potato farming for cowboying with the old man), had always stopped by to make sure that she and her mama were doing okay, far from the land that they’d been born on. They’d eat steak and beans and pies that her mom would take the day off from the diner to stay in and bake. Those were the good days, where everything seemed like it was gonna be okay. Strange that a war would seem like the good days, but watching her mama put by weeks of sugar and butter rations just to be able to make seemed to Johnnie like the definition of love. Things weren’t always easy, but there was just that one night every year where it seemed like there was nothing wrong and the little house was full of laughter. The tradition continued for a long time. As far as Johnnie knew, it carried on even after she’d gotten packed off to Denver. Whether it carried on, she didn’t know, but it wasn’t something she took the time to worry about. All she cared to think about was the laughter and the pies.
She smirked as she set the pie down. That was the reaction she’d wanted to see. She walked in and shut the door behind her, neatly balancing the food on her hip. It was a particularly female way to carry things, she’d watched busboys try and fail at the technique. Either they didn’t have properly shaped hip bones or they didn’t understand that the hip had to be popped out just enough to give the object a bit of a shelf. Whatever their problem wasn, Johnnie didn’t have it and that was evident as she walked through the living room to the kitchen. “Chicken enchiladas,” she had a brief flash of beans soaking next to her stove, “but no beans, I forgot to cook them.” She laughed at her own forgetfulness as she sat down the casserole and removed the lid, briefly catching a glimpse of puppy dog eyes below the counter. “Sorry Ramses, your daddy would kill me if I fed this to you and I don’t think I’m lucky enough to come back twice, then he’d get all kinds of cranky without his pie, and then where would you be?”
She turned around to the cabinets, pulling out plates and a glass for herself. “Yeah, but then you’d get all fat because you wouldn’t have to go through the effort of walking over to my place and we simply can’t have that,” she said as she set down the plates and filled the glass from the tap. She wasn’t a big fan of bottled water and despite the strength of their friendship, she still wasn’t sure if he drank straight from the milk carton or not and wasn’t in the mood to ask. She set the glass down and turned again, digging through one of the drawers for forks. “You know, it would stop me getting stabbed by your forks every time I came over if you’d organize this thing,” she said, extracting two forks from the scrambled mess of silverware.
She liberated three of the rolls from the pan and deposited them on one plate, and then put one on the other. She picked up both plates and shoved the fuller one at Daryll before grabbing her water and heading over to the couch where she promptly sat down cross-legged and started eating, her glass on the coffee table next to her. “So, anything new in your life?” she asked between bites. For all that she’d been cooking that day, she hadn’t eaten all too much and hadn’t realized how hungry she actually was. Such was life.
Here, in this room, was the closest thing that she had to kin in this wild new world. She’d burned her bridges with her blood long before, far past the point where a pie could bridge the gap. As sure as she was that the Mercers and Malloys (were they still free) would come after her with pitchforks and rifles should she ever go back to Cheyenne, so she was sure that a little food (okay, a lot of food) was not a big price to pay for having a calm harbor from the storm of her life and someone that she could talk to. All the hours spent pointlessly wandering when she was younger, they were gone now. Now there were friends and pies and conversations and the sometimes urge to feed the dogs a little bit of steak. It was a better life.
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note: I blame The Band Perry for her being all mentally gushy >.>
words: 813
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Jan 16, 2013 23:20:17 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Daryll was not unfamiliar with bitter pasts, his own was riddled with death and more death. He'd had his fair share of bullshit, between being shot in the chest to completely losing control of himself, to losing his mother in the damn vampire wars. When he reflected upon the past he found it was best he did it alone, without anyone else to see the pain or anger, because usually when he thought of the past he was in a bad place. And he wasn't in a bad place tonight, so therefore thoughts of the past where not in his mind. Instead the delicious food that Jo had brought was on his mind, he had to admit to himself that he was starving, he could definitely use some food in his stomach. And he was looking forward to that pie. The dogs raced them into the kitchen, Ramses of course was on the look out for food, which he wouldn't get, while Ratchet patiently sat down to watch them all move about. He rose an eyebrow as she uncovered the chicken enchiladas, they looked really good. Of course all of Jo's cooking was fantastic. He wouldn't eat it otherwise.
"Looks real good Jo" Eh, he could survive without beans, he wasn't going to start complaining when she was bringing him over free food. He rolled his eyes when she caught sight of Ramses and then refused to feed the dog food. "Don't be so melodramatic Jo, I wouldn't kill you, just make sure you knew not to feed my dog again" And sadly enough, Daryll meant it. He loved his dogs, god knew he did, but he didn't tolerate anyone fucking up the balance and order he'd made with them. They knew very well they weren't allowed human food, they also knew they shouldn't be begging at the table, and with that thought he reached over, yanked lightly on Ramses ear, which made the dog wag his tail harder. "Get away from there Ramses" The dog listened, obeying him and backing off while he laughed at Jo's next statement. "God forbid I get fat right? Not like I'm not running around constantly during the day anyways" He raised an eyebrow at her as she filled up the glass of water, simply shrugging, he did say she could get whatever she wanted.
Shaking his head as she dug around in his utensil drawer he couldn't help but smirk. "But its so much funnier to watch you get stabbed every single time" Daryll couldn't help but grin at her, she should know by now not to just plunge her whole damn hand into his drawer, he hardly used the forks and such in there as it was, why organize it? He smirked at her as he took the plate, following her into the living room and having no problem with sitting his ass on the couch, propping his feet on his coffee table. The dogs both sat on the other side of the table, both staring intently at the two with food. Daryll was also in a similar situation with his hunger, he hadn't had much to eat at all that day, and he had a healthy mouthful by the time Jo asked him about anything new. He wanted to scoff. Anything new. Hardly anything was new, everything was the same, it was starting to become routine and the routine was going to be the death of him. "Nah, boring as ever of course. Starting to get on my nerves really." He shoved another bite into his mouth before looking over at her. "How about you? Anything exciting going on?"
The monotonous days were something that Daryll didn't want, because it was the monotonous, boring days that brought that familiar itch, that yearning in him for bloodshed, for violence, for him to loose control, even just a little bit. And he couldn't have that, that was something he had decided would never happen to him again. His parents tried so hard to help him gain control, he wasn't going to just piss that away by letting himself go, especially here, with a building filled with people. That's what his hunting trips were for, he'd let Aki free, channel his rage, his lack of control, his desire for violence into the familiar and let him go crazy in the safety of an empty woods. Not here, not with Jo sitting next to him, his dogs in front of him, a building full of people he could hurt.
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Jan 20, 2013 16:14:05 GMT -5
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. Sure, he ate her food all the time, but it was still nice to get complimented on it every once in awhile, it reminded her that she wasn’t just a fridge that he could raid. She spent enough of her time and her hard earned cash in the endeavor to entertain herself that it was nice when her efforts were acknowledged.
She smirked and shrugged. Teach her a lesson, kill her, whichever, he’d better be shirtless. At least she could get a little bit of joy out of the situation if she ever managed to get herself there. Otherwise, what would be the point of getting into trouble if the punishment wasn’t worth it? Simply none, other than the feeling that she’d gotten away with something by feeding the dogs (which was almost enough of a victory in and of itself). But it wasn’t exactly a big secret that she thought he was attractive and by all previous experience , he thought the same of her. As much as she sometimes worried that she was allowing herself to get in too deep or allowing herself just a little bit too much leeway, she normally ended up squelching those thoughts. Whatever this was, it was different and different was possibly the best thing that she could ask for in that situation.
She rolled her eyes at the comment. Men. They never really did learn, did they? Then again, this one had learned quite a few things over the years, like how to stay in control and that was one thing that she envied. Then again, he had an outlet. His affinity let him channel everything out whereas to even use hers, she had to be at the tipping point, about to go feral, and then she just knew what the other person did about one thing and one thing only. Even though it was a little bit annoying, the fact that if she got out of the radius and didn’t feed meant that she didn’t remember it. But, she’d been starving enough times that she knew a lot about forks, other than that they hurt when she reached into that damn drawer (once upon a time, she’d made dinner out of a culinary historian). For example, the common fork that she commonly found attacking her hand was originally used as an eating implement by the Byzantines. Couple that with the knowledge that she was getting speared with one, well, it was more than a little bit frustrating.
She shook her head, swallowing what she had in her mouth. “Nah, nothing really, I am considering getting a pet, just to make sure I’ve got a constant food source, but I don’t even know if they’d let me have one given the bloody years.” She shrugged and pushed her food around a little bit. Those weren’t her finest years, when she’d run full speed into anything and leave a trail of bloody incidents behind her. She was still slowly trying to pinpoint some of her actions back then. Her wild side came with one seeming blessing: that she could forget. But that tendency to forget things is precisely what got her into trouble so many times. Once or twice, she’d had the cops called on her because she managed to stumble into the remains of something that she had done in the past. And her tendency towards violence, well, that was why she worried about getting a pet. She’d reasoned it through before even seriously considering the idea. If she had a pet, she’d get fresh blood on demand, enough to satiate the beast and keep her sane. Of course, the auction house might not see it that way and she might just be stuck with the unaffiliated pets from the citadel as her meals. It was a touchy subject.
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note: Forgive the suckage....
words: 640
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Jan 20, 2013 22:24:16 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Daryll nodded his head to her thanks, which really wasn't needed as he meant it. He enjoyed her food, her company as well. It wasn't an unknown fact that he appreciated Jo for more things than just her cooking, over the years Daryll and Jo had gotten to know each other very well. They had a solid friendship, one that had stood the test of time, and parents, and occasional psychotic breaks. Both from her and from him. But it seemed like no matter what they went through they both remained good friends through it all. Which was probably a good thing as Jo dug around in his drawer, stabbing herself with forks. Daryll wasn't always the easiest to get along with, he could be harsh, his words were sometimes sharp, and he tended to lash out when he wasn't in his right mind. The fact that Jo had stayed through all of that meant a lot to Daryll, sure they'd never be more than friends and occasional fuck buddies, but she was very important to him.
He raised an eyebrow as Ramses whined, gathering the courage to sneak over to Jo's side, looking at her with big, puppy dog eyes. Oh, he wasn't going to say anything. Oh no, he'd let Jo decide if she was going to feed the dog or not, he just kept eating. Some might think he was completely joking when he said he'd punish them if they ever fed his dogs human food, but this was his cruel, perhaps a bit sadistic, side that he just couldn't keep hidden when it came to things like this. He did not want ANYONE feeding them scraps, and he had a terrible temper when rules of his were broken. And Jo knew that. She probably could handle whatever he dished out, but that didn't mean she'd WANT him too. He took another bite of his food, turning to look at Ratchet, who was watching Ramses, probably wondering the same thing as Daryll. Is Ramses finally going to get a bit of Jo's cooking? He reached over to grab the bottle of water, taking a drink before starting on the second enchilada, once more ignoring the husky who was still begging for food.
He did end up raising an eyebrow as Jo mentioned getting a pet. In theory it wasn't a bad idea, someone to snack on whenever the urge was there would be nice. He frowned slightly, he'd thought of it, but he wasn't sure he could stand the little human living in the same place as him. He'd rather just find one of the palace pets, take what he needed then and simply leave. "I'll vouch for you Jo, hell the other two dipshits would as well" The two 'dipshits' he was referring too were..well besides Jo, they were his best friends as odd as that sounds. The three of them had gotten into a good amount of trouble, all in fun of course, and they were an excellent team. Put Daryll, Jo, and the other two together and you had a pretty god damn good team on your hands. "I know you better than anyone else, you'd be more responsible in getting a pet then testing the waters without a source of blood at your disposal." He finished up the remaining food on his plate and set it on the table, leaning back and throwing an arm up on the sofa.
Of course he'd do what he could to help Jo in her venture for a pet if that's what she wanted, don't expect him to actually be NICE to the little human, but he'd do what he could if Jo felt that was the way she should go about things.
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Jan 25, 2013 22:07:54 GMT -5
Johnnie thought about the last thirty or so years as she chewed, wondering exactly where the shift from his position as her rather attractive but rather dumb in all things related to being a crimson sidekick to whatever one could call the present situation. There were not enough hours in the day, though, to answer that question, mainly because she wasn’t gonna push her own memory and bring back things that were not necessarily in her favor to remember. She wasn’t shy about what she could remember of her past, but being feral for so long had done a number on her memory, leaving blanks in places where she should be able to remember. Unlike those unlucky vamps who remembered every moment of being on the other side of crazy, she’d normally wake up bloody and confused in some far place, which was where Dar came in a lot of the time, looking at her like she was crazy. Oh for the heady days of youth and a general lack of control. Despite the horror that she had inflicted, she wasn’t about to say that she’d rather have not lived that part of her life. As painful as it was, all of that had managed to come together and make her the person that she was and she liked herself most days.
Out of the corner of her eye, Johnnie saw Ramses working his way towards her, ears perked like he was on the hunt for something. Of course, she knew what that something was. She swore up and down that these dogs could sense when she felt like sharing with them, this little beggar in particular. She set the half-eaten plate in her lap, fork included, and reached out to scratch his ears. “We had this talk already, little buddy. You like me, I like you, if you don’t tempt me like this I’m more likely to stick around,” she said with a laugh. She then returned to her dinner, rather inelegantly prying the enchilada apart with the fork. In hindsight, she should have grabbed a knife to make this easier. Oh the hell well, she was already halfway done, no sense in thinking about should-have-dones at this point in time, now it was just time to separate her bite of enchilada from the rest of it.
She chewed thoughtfully after liberating the bite from the rest of her food. She really did not know where she would be at this point in her life without the big lug on the other end of the couch, or the two dipshits that he called his best friends. Sure, he was the main person she knew in that group, but they all knew where the spare key to her apartment was hidden and all joined him in the raids on her freezer that resulted in nothing but a few specks and crumbs being left for her to eat when she was tired from a long day in the field and really wasn’t up to doing anything more than just going to sleep after a bite to eat. But for all of her belly aching about never having enough to eat and never having any food, deep down she appreciated it. Feeding the three of them was the kind of avocation that she needed in her life to distract from the other kinds of hunger and urges that kept her on her toes.
“Y’all better,” she said with a grin as she battled another bite of enchilada, “or I’m gonna change the locks.” It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the sentiment, she did, but sometimes her humor (a big self defense mechanism of hers) just made its way out. Sometimes she just couldn’t turn it off. It was good when she was at work and it was good when she was out of her depth, but here she should be able to turn it off, just say thank-you and move on with it. There were some problems with being as much of a joker as she was most of the time. The second statement, however, actually made her stop and look up with a smile. “Thanks,” she said, a little quietly, before returning the the stubborn roll of food in front of her. Either of those statements coming from him, given his general distaste for humans, was something to be thankful for.
She managed to finish the enchilada in a few bites and stood up, grabbing both plates to take them to the kitchen. Sometimes, she realized, it was all too easy to fall into the domestic role. Her mother, strongest woman she’d ever known, had done it for every boyfriend and for the uncles when they came around. Strange that sixtyish years later, her daughter was doing the same thing. Johnnie flipped on the sink in the kitchen and put the dishes in to soak under a layer of hot water before returning to the couch. She sank into it, swinging her legs up and using Daryll’s lap as an ottoman. This was, by definition, nice.
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note: wooo! post!
words: 842
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Jan 30, 2013 0:24:12 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Ramses was shot down immediately, which had been expected really, Jo wasn't a stupid person and while she liked to give him a hard time she knew not to fuck with the rules he laid down within his home. The dog whined a bit but eventually backed off to hover at a safe distance, watching the two of them eat. Of course Daryll ended up practically shoving the food in his mouth and he finished earlier than Jo did, what with her eating habits. He smirked a bit at that thought, raising an eyebrow as he watched her eat. "I didn't realize you needed to gut these things before you ate them" He'd rested a foot against the coffee table, Ratchet having moved over to rest his head on the couch for Daryll to idly scratch. This was nice, he'd admit that, sitting here with his dog next to him, his stomach full, a pretty woman who he got along with next to him. Not bad at all.
There was a small lull as she finished eating and he idly scratched behind one of Ratchet's ears, glancing over to study her for a moment. She was thinking, that he could tell, though he had no idea what about, he hardly did. He had spent a lot of time with Jo, but that didn't mean he knew how her inner mind worked, and he supposed that was just fine. He chuckled lightly, even though he didn't know her inner thoughts, he knew that she appreciated his words, he didn't mind the banter. "I doubt a silly lock is going to keep us out Jo, you're cooking is worth breaking and entering" He grinned at her, one that said he'd totally do it too. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that he could break into her house if he really wanted too, and he was sure she knew that too. His grin morphed into a softer smile, shrugging lightly and letting his head rest against the couch.
"No problem Jo" Though truthfully? He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He was honest in his opinion that it would be far better for her to get a pet than for her to risk losing control. The fact was, he didn't want anything to do with them, he needed them to survive, but that was all they were. Humans were food. That was it. And it wasn't unknown that it bugged him that they were treated like...well like they were. He did not like humans, he would rather see them all burn if he could, but that did not mean he was stupid. If Jo felt the need to be responsible and get a pet, he wasn't going to say anything. He watched her grab the plates, and shamelessly looked her over as she turned to head into the kitchen, and once she was in there he tugged on Ratchet's ear. "Go lay down you two, go on"
Ratchet trotted off to the dog bed that was behind the couch on the other side of the room while Ramses went to his favorite spot, underneath the table. He smiled as Jo walked back in, raising an eyebrow as she sat down and promptly placed her feet in his lap. Of course he didn't particularly mind, in fact he, oddly enough, reached for one of her feet, gently starting to rub them. "Comfy Jo?" He grinned at her, one foot still propped up on the coffee table, it was quite an oddly domestic scene. And he wondered why people always assumed they were together.
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Feb 1, 2013 12:30:05 GMT -5
There were more than enough reasons to gut an enchilada. She could be doing it to work out some frustrations. She could be doing it to separate the meat from tortilla so that she could enjoy them separately. She could also must be doing it simply because she’d forgotten to grab herself a knife so that she could eat like a lady. But was she going to dignify that commentary with a response? No. Instead, she worked on finishing her food and rolled her eyes, the only appropriate response in this situation.
“And the rest of the department, instead of enforcing the rules, would happily stand outside and tell you to grab the cookies,” she said with a laugh as she settled back into the couch. She loved being a hunter when she got to actually go out and hunt someone, but then there were the days where she got stuck working guard duty in the city or in the citadel, making sure that the laws of the land were upheld and that the good vampires of the Aurum sector were safe in their beds at night. She’d working working this gig as long as the vamps had been in charge and it had proven to be a good fit for her, even though she questioned why she did it when she was pulled in for desk duty, normally after a hard rotation through guarding and actually hunting. But desk duty also meant that she was bored and fairly energetic after working, and that meant cookies. Cookies were what she used to endear herself to the permanently desk bound members of the force and to those coming through on guard duty. Generally, it was a good thing to have those people on her side when she came in battered and bloody after working in the field. She was good to them, they were good to her.
Although she wasn’t actually sure what to do with anything living, she figured that getting a pet was the best course of action for many reasons, mainly because when her sanity was on the line, she didn’t want to lose it again. She had a lot of things going for her in this brave new world, unlike the old one, and she wasn’t about to let all of that go just because she couldn’t get a bite to eat some nights because she wasn’t able to find one of the citadel pets. This world was the first time in a long time that she remembered having stability. As little kid, it had been there, but starting in her teens, everything had always been a whirlwind of getting through one thing and onto another and eventually it had calmed down some, but she’d toed the line between crazy and sane for a long time and she liked being in the sane category.
“Quite,” she said, relaxing back into the couch, a small, satisfied smile on her face. There were few things better in life than getting a foot rub, very few. It also didn’t hurt that the person giving her the foot rub ranked high in two very,very important categories: good looks and strong hands. A massage of any kind simply wasn’t the same without either of the two. It was a simple fact. And those qualities also partially informed other physical activities as well. Her smile spread into a bit of a mischievous smile. “Actually, while you’re at it, could you get the calves too?” She wasn’t necessarily playing her hand close to the chest, but there was no harm in a bit of discretion at the outset, was there? And despite the fact that she was trying to be coy about the whole damn thing for a moment, she knew that he’d probably see right through the farce and carry on. She’d learned spending enough time with one person meant they could generally pick up on at least a few things.
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note: she decided to weird out on me, so sorry for the strangeish post
words: 660
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Feb 22, 2013 13:03:08 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He laughed lightly when she didn't respond to his comment about gutting the food she was eating. He tugged at Ratchet's ear lightly as he watched Jo continue to eat the food, content with where he was, sitting in the living room with his dogs and Jo. They'd been through a lot and he sure did appreciate that she put up with his bullshit. He could be highly annoying sometimes, he knew that, he knew he was difficult and that he wasn't exactly the easiest guy to get along with. Hell, sometimes he didn't want to deal with himself. He got irritable and ornery when things got difficult and he struggled with that thin control that he'd placed over the harsher side of himself. It didn't help that it was utterly natural for him to slip into the predator state, to become wild and feral and not give two shits about it. But he couldn't be like that, not now, now he had no excuse to not keep a tight leash on the darker side of himself. Besides, he wasn't going to let himself lose it, then who would Jo have?
He laughed at that. She was right, they wouldn't do jackshit but make him grab the cookies. And the sad part of reality is both of them were serious about it. Jo was well liked for her cookies and any chance to snag one or two was immediately taken. Daryll wasn't the only one who was a fan of Johnnie's cooking, he just happened to be the one who got to eat it all. Mostly because he wasn't afraid to knock down her door to get it. Because lets face it, sometimes Jo could be one scary lady. But that didn't mean he didn't like her, she was a very good friend, a really good friend actually, and, dare he think it, had their circumstances been different perhaps they could have been more than friends. Of course thoughts of relationships never truly crossed Daryll's mind, he wouldn't allow himself in one anyways, he wasn't willing to let his guard down that much around another person. Even Jo encountered a wall at some point, he didn't always spill his heart out to her, despite everything they'd been through.
He just couldn't seem to be completely and utterly open with anyone. There was just a part of him that he wasn't willing to let anyone see, not even Jo, not even after all they had been through, he couldn't seem to be completely open. Perhaps he believed things would change if he did, if he let his guard completely down around her. Regardless, things were just fine the way they were, she knew enough about him to have a comfortable friendship and he knew she wouldn't push anymore. Mostly because he'd kick her ass if she tried. He chuckled lightly when she plopped herself back onto the couch, her feet popping into his lap and he rolled his eyes before starting to rub her feet. Women. Daryll wasn't unused to this particular routine, it wasn't the first time that he'd rubbed Jo's feet, nor was it the first time he'd seen that certain smile cross her face and he smirked a bit, his hands moving up to her calf, strong fingers sliding along her leg as he messaged the muscles beneath his hands.
"Yeah, I think I could do that" He smirked lightly at her, his hands inching up one leg. He didn't find it odd at all how comfortable he was with this, with Jo sitting on his couch, with him giving her a message (though he was most certainly comfortable with where this was going to lead). He supposed they had been this way for a long while, so why not be comfortable with it? He opened his mouth to speak again, his hand sliding up past her knee when one of the dogs whined from the door. His looked morphed from that, 'oh i know i'm gettin' some' to 'are you shittin' me?'. He sighed, because he knew he'd either have to let the dog out, or the dog'd just piss on the floor. He pushed Jo's legs out of his lap, not before patting one leg. "Hold on, damn dogs" Getting up he stalked over to the door, spotting Ramses and sighing, shaking his head. Figures the young dog'd interrupt. "I'll be right back Jo, need to let the idiot out" He supposed that was the risk of having a dog. Ruining moods and such.
He shrugged on a coat before opening the door a bit to let Ratchet run into the hall, glancing back at Ratchet. "Wanna go out boy?" Ratchet merely snuggled into his bed more, taking that as a no Dar stepped out of his apartment, moving down the hallway after Ramses to let the damn idiot dog out. He basically glared at the husky until he was ready to head back inside, now that the chill had officially dug into Dar's bones and he sighed as he walked back into the warm building, heading back to his apartment and letting Ramses back in, who immediately went to smother Ratchet with all his wet fury. "You didn't break anything while I was gone did you Jo?" He grinned at her while hanging his coat up again, shrugging the shoes he had slipped on off and moving to sit down on the couch again, legs moving to prop up onto the coffee table and his head leaning back against the couch. He needed to warm up for a second. Damn dog.
Johnnie. 948.holy hell did not expect him to cooperate this much!.TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION. |
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Feb 26, 2013 12:26:15 GMT -5
Jo was the first person to say that she didn’t need anyone. It was possibly the biggest lie in her life, one among the many that she told herself to keep going day in and day out, but it was the important one. Believing that she could do everything on her own and that she didn’t need anyone periodically clearing out her freezer meant that she didn’t feel vulnerable and not feeling vulnerable was important. Even though there were running jokes and bets in department about, well, the current situation, there were limits. They were friends, he was a friend she didn’t need but wanted to have around. Again, the lack of need was a lie that she kept running through her head. Someone had to make sure she didn’t go out on killing sprees when she got hungry and someone her own size just wouldn’t fit the bill for that, would they? And any threat against her small island of peace was something to be avoided with a passion. The results were often bloody and left her lost, geographically and existentially. Her sanity was predicated on one simple fact (or so she had herself convinced): never letting anyone too close ever again. From there sprang all of the self-deceptions and lies that kept her going. And that would simply never change. There were twenty forgotten years that told the story of what happened when she didn’t have the protection of her lies.
She relaxed into the couch. As much as she’d say that she was a big bad scary monster, it was clearly apparent that a massage and anything that may follow was a good way to get her at least a little bit tamed. She grinned. “Glad to hear it.” Even though there was nothing beyond the friendship that they had, she wouldn’t allow it, they’d been stuck in some of the same routines for so long that these moments were nothing but expected and normal events. She was fine with that, more than happy with it, to be honest. She liked knowing that there was at least one person that she could just drop in on and be comfortable with. She wasn’t going to say that this wasn’t nice, especially not where this would hopefully end.
And then there were the dogs. As Ramses whined at the door, she saw a sudden spiral of the mood into something else. They were like big, furry children. Jo wasn’t good with living things, she could barely keep a plant alive. Even the thought of keeping a human alive was predicated on the fact that they were independent, fairly self-sustaining creatures provided you gave them access to food and water and somewhere to sleep. She sighed and tucked her knees to her chest as he left with the pup. That dog was never getting snacks, ever. He’d just won himself solid denial of all table scraps at all futures points in time, even if she was feeling rambunctious and like pressing her luck. She looked over towards Ratchet, why couldn’t the other dog be that calm and relaxed? Probably an age thing, like with people and vamps. She was sure that maybe, just maybe, there would be calm in her mind someday, that she’d age and mature like some fine crazy wine. But that had yet to happen.
She looked around the house as she waited. There were still a few enchiladas out, just waiting for some kind of microbe to invade. Would the microbes affect the individuals eating the food? No. Would they affect the flavor of the dish? Yes. She got off the couch and put the lid back on the food before slipping it into the fridge. She’d leave that there, she knew how to get in and she knew that her pan was unlikely to go missing given that Daryll didn’t cook and nor did anyone else in their immediate circle. She was, all told, the main source of non-human food for the group.
Jo returned to the couch, sitting curled up. That dog was going to get his furry butt kicked if he didn’t finish his business soon and let his owner back into the house. She sighed and contemplated precisely how she should be waiting. There were many options. She could always ‘slip into something more comfortable’ and steal one of his nicer shirts, they were practically dresses on her anyways (she’d swiped them enough times in the past). She smirked at the idea and climbed off the couch, running back to the bedroom and opening the closet. Shirts everywhere. She slid her hand across the hangers, looking for something with a collar. A little “Risky Business,” perhaps, but Jo Mercer in white shirt was generally better than Tom Cruise in his socks and boxers. She stripped out of her jeans and shirt, kicked them under the bed, and pulled a relatively worn looking white button-up over her head. The arms hung past her wrists. Men. She rolled them quickly and ran back to the couch.
She arrived only a moment before the man and the dog came back into the room. The mutt ran across the room, spraying water everywhere as he did so. She was never going to have a dog. She turned her attention back to where it damn well should be. “Nothing broken, you’ve even got food in your fridge now,” she said, sliding across the couch to settle in next to him. This night had to be gotten back on track, dammit. She could feel the cold from outside still clinging to him. “Got a little chilled, did you?” she asked, moving in a little closer and returning her legs to their previous position. She grinned, her mind turning back to a previous state. “You do know we can fix that, right?”
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note: she's apparently on a roll right now >.>
words: 973
outfit: check it
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Post by dar on Mar 3, 2013 23:09:54 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I need a minute to get my head straight. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was chilly out side and he was very thankful to be back inside after the husky had taken his time. It was just like the young dog to waste Daryll's time by exploring every single bush and tree in site, even though not a few hours earlier the dog had been in the same exact place. He could feel the cold starting to chill his fingers, his ears, his nose and he glared at the young dog who finally went about his business and returned to where Daryll stood, giving his owner a smug doggy grin. "Fucking dog" He murmured lightly before letting the dog back in and trying to get warmth back into his fingers before they got back to his apartment. He let the dog through the door before stepping in himself, asking his question while hanging up his coat and then turning to see Jo, who had changed, into just his shirt.
The effect it had was quite immediate, Dar's eyes darkened as desire shot through him. If there was one thing Daryll liked, it was when a woman was wearing his clothes, his shirt specifically, just his shirt. He paused a moment, if only so he could let his eyes roam shamelessly over her form, she was used to it now, this wasn't the first time Daryll had ogled her and it wouldn't be the last. But he forced himself to walk back over to the couch, to sit down and let his head fall back, his eyes closed as he willed the cold away from his finger tips and took a moment to calm the desires that had welled up in him. He had no idea why the thought of a woman in his shirt, just his shirt, got him going so much, perhaps it was some sort of primal instinct in him that saw a woman in something that belonged to him, and immediately thought 'mine'. Dar wouldn't be surprised, his thoughts could border on the animalistic anyways.
She sat down next to him and he tilted his head forward, an easy grin slipping across his face as she told him that nothing was broken and he had food in the fridge. "Oh good, I don't have to break into your house then" He teased lightly, though he couldn't get rid of the husky edge to his voice. He really did appreciate the food though, even if his mind was geared towards sex, but when she plopped her legs back across his lap, scooting closer to him all thoughts of appreciating the fact she had taken care of keeping him fed vanished, instead he grinned, a wicked grin, and his hands slide up her legs. "Oh, I think I'm warming up just fine right now" His voice had dropped another octave, becoming deeper, a bit huskier as his gaze slide from where her legs were propped in his lap up to her own eyes, that grin ever present on his face as he slid a hand up one thigh to her hips, squeezing lightly.
Daryll hadn't had any intention to let his dog needing to go out ruin the mood, and Jo showing up in just his shirt had only reinforced the idea that he needed to get her out of that shirt, pronto. In fact, he wasn't willing to play any sort of games tonight, impatient perhaps, but she'd brought out an urgent need in him by donning that damn shirt. He moved then, swinging his legs off the coffee table to pull her under him, leaning above her with that same wicked grin on his face, his eyes flicking down to her lips for a moment before they traveled back to her own. "Stealing my shit Jo?" A hand moved down her side over his shirt before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, nipping at her bottom lip as a sort of reprimand, though he was grinning.
"I might have to do something about that" He murmured, his hand having traveled to her hip, his fingers skipping down to the shirts edge, running over the soft skin there. His lips traveled to her jaw line, nipping lightly as he made his way to her ear, nipping at her earlobe. "I bet you'd like that though right?" He breathed against her ear, his hand inching up her thigh again, itching to rid her of his shirt and whatever clothing still lie underneath it.
Johnnie. 758.yeaaaah, <.< he got all..rawwwwwr sexy time! -cough cough- .TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION. |
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Post by Johnnie Rae Mercer on Mar 6, 2013 17:38:33 GMT -5
She grinned seeing the pause at the door. That was precisely the reaction she had been looking for. The dog would not win this round, too bad for him. She grinned, watching his eyes darken just a shade. She still had the touch. Sometimes she thought she was losing it when, standing in jeans and a tee, she couldn’t even get the damn barista to give her a once over. But this, this was good for the pride, the pause and the ogle followed by the forced march to the couch. This was the kind of power that women had been wielding since the beginning of time and oh did it feel good, knowing that for that the big strong hunters were focused solely on one target and one alone. And this moment just reinforced that power.
She chuckled. “But we could have had so much fun. Imagine, you, breaking in on me while I’m wandering about in an old shirt, hair undone, pie in the oven,” she said, rolling her head to the side, a come and get me grin solidly in place. She idly let her hand slide up his arm, briefly reflecting on the sheer number of times that this scene had played itself in one way or another. Small wonder there weren’t more rumors flying about. But that was for the small minded who didn’t think that sex and romance were inseparable or that, in a proper expansion of the ‘When Harry Met Sally’ attitude, believed that friendship couldn’t exist if there was play between the sheets. Clearly, they were wrong. Maybe it was just the self-deception at work, but she was quite convinced that all of that was crap and that this was proving all of the small minded nitwits wrong, with the added side benefit of being fun.
In less time than she had anticipated, she was on her back and looking up, hunted. She grinned at the comment. “Always,” she said, letting her hands slide down his chest, the hard muscle and the softness of t-shirt only convincing her more that he didn’t need the shirt he was wearing, not really. It would just be so easy, so simple to rip the damn thing off. In fact that was becoming more and more convincing by the moment, especially as the scheme was quickly interrupted by the impact of his lips on hers and the sensation of teeth on her lower lip. Too much clothing indeed, it was a problem that would have to be remedied quickly. She bunched the fabric of his shirt in her hands, exposing a line of skin below.
She used her grip to pull him down closer as he teased. A shiver ran through her as he reached her ear. In that second, she felt her arms tighten and the first few threads in the shirt give way. She grinned, equally wickedly, as a plan finalized itself in her mind. Quickly, she gathered more of the fabric and pulled, the shirt giving quickly as a result of age and care and the fact that she simply didn’t care, he was wearing too much clothing. There was no doubt in her mind. She slid her hands over his shoulders under the remains of his shirt, the come and get me grin still plastered on her face. “Yes, please, do something about it, I just don’t know if I can stop,” she said, lifting herself up to kiss him. She let her hands slide up his neck, lost somewhere between the sensation and the decision of exactly how to finish ridding him of the remains of his shirt.
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note: ... i don't know why she's so fixated on his shirts or 80s movies. >.>
words: 606
outfit: check it
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