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TheHauntress
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![[*]](./images/corporate/default_icon.gif) posted on 23-8-2007 at 23:33 |
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{MxM} Eyeliner Runs In Fire, Tongue Rings Stick To Ice {+18}
Ooc: If you join, you don't have to be any of the men in the car or the roped boy. Just letting you know! :bic
Sitting on the back of the car, Narci Morgan Fairchild smiled and took another drag on his cigarette. The long, slim, white fag was pinned between two
slender, pale fingers, tipped with perfectly manicured nails. They were painted a glittering green-gold and little golden jewels were glued to the
curve of his cuticles. The French-style tips glinted white and matched his white eyelashes.
He blinked them once, glancing back into the car, then, with a smile on his face, looked back at the black sky of stars. His green eyeliner and
eyeshadow were glittered with golden dust and his lips were tinted green with gloss. Beneath his glinting mouth were a set of perfect, glinting teeth.
A wet, pink tongue rolled over his top teeth and the lips closed around the end of his cigarette again, tightening as he sucked in smoke. This made
the golden ball of his Monroe piercing stick out more and fog a little as he let the smoke waft from between his lips.
His narrow face, semi-hollow cheeks, and slightly round chin was framed by flat-ironed, black hair that fell in chunky strands over his left eye. The
white tipped locks shone with a healthy glow and the few strands that were streaked white ran through his hair like water. The right eye was untouched
by his hair, because of the way he tucked his hair gently behind his right ear. Sometimes, some of the stray strands got caught in the short,
horizontal, industrial piercing through his right ear. The rook piercing on the other side was more often tangled in the hair that fell from his head.
Multiple studs and hoops rimmed the sides of both ears, changed everyday and caught in strands just as often.
The hair was cut shorter in the back, randomly dyed white in bunched clumps. None of it was long enough to fall on to his neck, not even in the front,
leaving his Madison piercing in the center of his collarbone alone. His long-sleeved, black half-shirt hugged his upper chest, letting his stomach be
revealed. His navel piercing glinted with the gold gem barbel he'd placed in it this morning. His netted sleeves went down to his thumbs. Black jeans
hung down his hips and were fitted along his slim thighs and calves. Black leather boots with multiple gold buckles were zipped up around the cuffs of
his jeans and were resting against the ground weightlessly.
Under the starlight that illuminated his pale skin, illustrated with tattoos galore, the men in the car behind him got out and threw the boy in ropes
down on the ground.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 24-8-2007 at 03:49 |
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Alastair was disgusted. He'd had unpleasant jobs before, but this one was right behind that sadistic harassment/rape/murder case a couple years ago.
No more than a shadow of it made him shiver now; even undertones alluding to it made him nauseous.
The police had been tracking down these people for a while, but every time they got even remotely close, they were led in circles by the two
organizations involved. Alastair would bring them all in; not one of them would be arrested.
Presently, he was undercover as a Mr. James Thornwell. The chauffeur that was now locked into a bomb shelter until Alastair was finished. He threw the
barely-lit cigarette in his mouth to the ground and took off the ring he was wearing. It looked like a wedding band. The tracking device was installed
inside. He had but to open it and destroy the device for the government to come down on this location like a nest of hornets on a kid who poked their
hive.
Alistair checked the rearview once more before removing the trap, and using a pen, crushed the fragile mechanism inside. Alistair pulled the
acceleration pedal that was now hanging on by a thread out so they couldn't escape, before loading his gun and getting out. His undershirt was lined
with bulletproof material that he hoped not to use. The only thing Alistair had to do now was save the poor victim and wash his hands of this filthy
job. He couldn't believe what these men did. It was absolutely nauseating.
Escaping would be the trickiest part. He was sure everyone in the car was loaded, and there were probably cameras. This was no small-time bust,
either. These guys would be in for life, and Alistair would be glad. He'd had enough trouble as it was, finally getting an opening when they stopped
for a quick run by a prostitution ring. Alistair shook his head and opened the door, stepping outside. This wouldn't be too conspicuous, as he'd made
this a habit, to occasionally get a lungful of fresh air. He closed the windows, locking them to all but the driver, and locked the doors before
slamming the driver door shut. Allistair quickly walked around the car to the boy and untied him. "I would get out of here quickly, unless you want to
be shot or arrested," he advised, before disappearing into a nearby alley. He was pretty good at that.
Not two seconds after he'd said this did the first gunshots sound, sending the entire district into a panic. Alistair smirked. And so began the
beginning of the end. These brutes would inevitably talk, and lead the police to more in their organization. Alistair's work was done as a detective;
he'd be contacted again when needed. Removing his tie and over-coat and loosening the buttons on the white shirt underneath, Alistair trashed his ID
and went to free the real James Thornwell, so he could return to his status as a mere mercenary. Kind of ironic how these things went.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 24-8-2007 at 16:25 |
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After he had spit at the boy on the ground and put out his cigarette in his lovely, blonde hair, he had gotten into the back of the car.
"Driver," he had spoken, his voice like music, "Let's go. I have to get the stains out of my car before they set in."
He had been examining his perfect nails, finding that one of the stones was cut differently than the others and he told himself he'd have to murder
the manicurist...again. Damn, he was running out of good nail salons. His driver had stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut.
Narci looked up. Glancing out of the window, he saw the 'driver' untie the boy.
Now, normally, Narci had a very soft temper. Sure, if you got the coffee over 10 degrees hotter than he asked for it, he'd have his men take you in
the back and cut out your tongue; Yeah, sometimes he got mad and took his car out into the desert with you and made a mofia victim out of you, but who
didn't get upset sometimes? It's not like he would cut off the genitalia of EVERYONE and rape them. He only did that when they really, REALLY deserved
it...but that was much gentler than his predecessor.
However, this was not a normal situation.
He had been betrayed, tricked. And if there was anything that deserved something worse than death, it was betrayal or trickery.
He barred his teeth, his pale, white-green eyes turning to flames as he dove at the door. Unlike most of the previous Godfathers, he liked to get in
on most of the action.
"FUCK!" He shreiked, his voice higher than usual. The door was locked. With his chest burning, he gripped the handle, melting it off of the door and
kicking the door off of the car. He tore out of the car and after the man, pointing at the boy.
The men in the back of the car understood without words and got out, each brandishing a Desert Eagle from their coats. The boy was left trembling on
the ground as the guns were cocked. As if he hadn't endured enough already.
Narci resisted the urge to go back at the sound of the shots. He could see the 'driver's' heels and he wasn't going to let him get away with besting
him. He pushed himself to run faster, simaltainteously pulling out a Smith&Wesson model 60 from his hip. He kept his arms in close, making sure
his grip on the gun didn't exceed his rage. With his teeth bulging slightly at the fire in his throat, he glared as he ran after him. Lights behind
him caught his eye and he snarled to himself under the sirens.
'FUCK! A rat and I'm going to kill him just like one,' he said in his head as he grabbed the back of the man's jacket. Yanking him backwards, he
pressed the barrel hard up against the soft flesh under his jaw. Looping his arm around him, he held his shoulder with his nails digging in like
claws. He tried to keep from setting the clothes under his fingertips on fire, but he wanted more than life to burn through them and scorch him until
he screamed.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 24-8-2007 at 21:20 |
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Alistair smirked to himself at the initial shriek.He mouthed the words 'I won,' only too sorry he didn't get to say them to the arrogant man's face.
As he walked, however, he thought he heard noises behind him. Alistair turned his head in alarm. Oh SHIT! He was out! How could he get out so
fast?!
"Shit!" He said softly as he began to run. "Holy Shit of the Divine Mother!" He heard steps behind him and ducked his head to avoid a headshot as he
ran even faster. It wasn't easy to run in a suit, even for a man like Alistair. "How the fucking hell did he get out? Shitshitshitshitshit!" Alistair
turned a corner, throwing a trash can across the alley. Anything to slow down the merciless man who would surely cut him into bite-size pieces if he
ever caught Alistair.
Alistair lost his balance temporarily at the sudden jerk. He could hear the beat of the helicopters and a brief exchange of fire, as well as radio
voices, muffled by the buildings so Alistair couldn't make out the words. "Holyfuckdon'tshoot," he pleaded. If Alistair could have just a second he'd
be all right. Alistair could ignore the pain of the man's nails, now impervious to anything like that. He'd gotten into too many knife-fights for that
to phase him. He didn't even cry, faced by such an imminent death. "It was just business. I'm good, and the feds pay. I can hide you. You leave here,
you're dead. Don't think your..." Nothing insulting, now; not 'goons' or 'minions'.... "...bodyguards won't rat on you. The feds'll do everything to
track down everyone in the Family, and anyone else with bloody hands. You have no allies; all that's left are traitors. I know their next move; I can
protect you." It was Alistair's only shot at survival, and he wasn't stupid enough to betray the guy again, regardless of his personal feelings. He
could only hold his breath and hope it would work.
"DOWN!" He yelled, his legs jumping instinctively down a short stairwell to some apartment's back door, making sure he landed under his soon-to-be
executioner. Less than a breath after, a police helicopter flew over the alley. It couldn't see them, of course. Alistair knew these streets and
alleyways better than his own house; he knew of the best places to hide, shoot, and fight. After all, when he wasn't an ace detective, he was a gun
for hire. Whatever made a living.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 24-8-2007 at 21:46 |
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Narci's eyes flared open with rage as the man tried to beg for life. He assumed he would kill him? Ha, this man was foolish. He would NEVER kill his
prey, if he could help it. Once they wished they WERE going to be killed, he'd let them go. That was his life. He ground his teeth in his mouth,
biting back the whipping flames. He just pressed the barrel of the gun harder into his throat.
He knew he was probably right, but he didn't care. As the Don, he controlled the lives of those around him. Mikey, second in command, wouldn't DARE
rat him out. Others...he wasn't so sure about.
Before he got the chance to speak (he was prepared with a snappy comeback), he was thrown down some stairs and pinned to his traitor. He cried out,
landing with a thud and coughing. He screamed a little, his legs tangled in the man's. He kept his grip on the gun and, as soon as he stopped seeing
stars and was sure the blood dribbling down his forehead wasn't a fatal result of hitting his head, pressed it to his temple, gripping his throat with
his claws again.
The blood dripped along the curve of his eyebrows, ruining his eyeshadow and the eyeliner.
'He fucked up my make up...' He thought, glaring hotly down at him. He was lucky he had landed on him; his jeans were tight and there was no padding
over his 'package.' Despite this, he was going to make this man wish for more than death.
Oh, sooo much more.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 00:05 |
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Alistair honestly didn't care in the least who the guy was; whether he was the President or some rabid whore made no difference. Only two things
mattered. One: He had the money to pay for Alistair's services. Two: He had a gun pointed at Alistair's...well, temple now.
Alistair couldn't suppress his grunt. If this guy thought he could get the better of him, he'd find himself in more than he bargained for. Alistair
could feel a trickle of blood along each leg and his forehead, but he was all right. He'd had much worse than that. Alistair tapped his teeth
together. He was growing tired of being this guy's goddamn pillow; that wasn't his job. Alistair would ask to be let up, but he knew it would be
useless. "You know the police are going to storm this alley before too long. When they find you, they'll kill you." That was Alistair's polite way of
saying 'get the fuck off of me, and let's get the hell out of here.' Alistair pursed his lips, glaring at the pavement under his eyes, waiting for the
signal of a weight being lifted off his back.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 00:56 |
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Narci snarled, pulling his head back with a clawed fist in his hair. Pressing his cheek to his head, he hissed hotly against his ear, watching the
flame turn the edge of his cartaladge black. Blood leaked from the burnt skin.
"Fuck you."
With that, he slammed his head back into the cement and stood, glaring down at him and keeping the gun on him. He could hear the choppers and the
sound of fleeting gunshots. He hoped that all the people on his side had been killed by now. That's what they would've wanted.
Well...that's what HE wanted.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:07 |
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Alistair's expression quickly turned to one of shock before he cringed in pain. What the hell? His ear was burning? "What are you?!" He bit out in a
whisper. Damn, he was hurt bad. He couldn't even feel it anymore. Alistair wiped away the couple of tears that had been squeezed out of his eyes at
the pain before he stood up.
Alistair didn't like this; it wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be releasing the driver locked in a bomb shelter and finding a new
client. Wait. The bomb shelter... there was another one, one far more useful for their purposes. It wasn't a room, but a series of rooms, with tunnels
that ran alongside the sewers all over the city. There was an entrance to the sewers underneath 18th street, only a few blocks from here. They'd have
to go underground to get there, though.
"Whatever. If you want to actually live another day, you'll follow me." Alistair said, turning to the sick bastard who'd fried his ear. "And you won't
remove that gun from my head. Because the moment you do, I'll take it from you and kill you before you have the chance to return the favor." Hey, at
least he was honest. Alistair had the feeling that this guy wouldn't trust him no matter what he did, so he might as well speak frankly; he had
nothing to lose from it. Alistair watched the man to see if he'd allow Alistair to lead him to the sewers, where they would then cross over into a
secret tunnel and walk about a mile to the shelter itself, outfitted like a real home, albeit a bit dustier. If they needed anything, Alistair could
leave to get it. This guy wasn't going to be going anywhere, if he valued his life.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:12 |
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Narci snorted with his slightly feminine tone. This fucking moron assumed he'd move the gun? What the hell was HIS issue? He snarled, shoving the
barrel of the gun into the man's gut, keeping his teeth together to keep from killing the man. He wasn't ready to do that yet.
"Move then," he hissed, his lips still peeled back to reveal his teeth. He glared at him, his nails digging into his palm around the butt of the gun.
He wanted to tear him apart sooo bad. However, he kept his long, slender legs from diving at the rat in front of him.
The sirens seemed to move closer like a UFO.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:19 |
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Alistair wanted to smile, but he knew he'd be no more than a pile of ash the second he showed any mirth. Still, the sight of a mob boss so helplessly
worked up was positively amusing. Especially since he'd been so riled by a mere detective/mercenary. Alistair rolled his eyes as he continued forward.
"I'd take the gun off my gut, just so you know. Aim at my head." He wasn't about to divulge that he was wearing a bulletproof vest, but he would at
least give the guy advice.
It wasn't far before they reached a sewer opening. Alistair removed the cap and began to climb down, leaving his head above ground (able to be shot)
until the other guy got close enough. "Oh, close it on your way down. Let's not make it terribly easy for them." With those words, Alistair began his
descent. At least he was a thoughtful captive. True, he'd probably be killed anyway, but there was no harm in trying.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:25 |
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Narci glanced at his chest as he turned, spotting tight stitching in the corner.
'Bulletproof,' he thought, raising the gun to his head and following him down the street. As he climbed down, he sneered at him. He took a seat on the
edge of the manhole and jumped down, guiding his fall with his feet and free hand. The other kept the gun aimed. He wouldn't let him out of his
bulls-eye. As he moved, he pulled the cap back over, letting it fall closed over his head.
He landed ankle-deep in sewer water and his thin, pale nose wrinkled.
'Ugh, disgusting,' he thought, 'my pants. Fuck. The world is such a filthy place.'
He kept his gaze on the man, making sure he was visible in the blackness of the tunnel. The holes in the cap of the manhole made him blink as they
landed on his eyelids and he moved closer to him, joining him in the shadows.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:36 |
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Once in the murky tunnel, they were considerably safer. Alistair found the cement pathway on the side easily enough, and stuck his hands in his
pockets as he walked. He didn't say anything; anything they said would echo and be heard by the policemen whose feet Alistair could hear above him as
he walked under the main road and turned right. The entrance would be to the left in a few yards. It was unnoticeable to the untrained eye, but what
looked like graffiti hid a narrow crawl-space between the tunnel to the bomb shelter and the sewer. The crawl-space wasn't as nasty as the sewers,
though it wasn't much better. Alistair didn't care either way. The bomb shelter had well-water, and though hot water was limited, a somewhat warm
shower or warm bath was still very possible, and doubtless the man trying to kill him would want one or the other once they reached their destination.
"I'd ditch the gun before we get there. Throw it in the water or remove the firing pin. You can always kill me by...whatever you did to my fucking
ear." Alistair still couldn't feel it. A bad sign. "Because once we get there, I can take the gun without too much trouble, but there are no other
weapons. I make it a point to leave my hiding places devoid of anything... incriminating. Like weapons." Smart guy, Alistair. If the police raided the
place, they'd find nothing more than a shelter someone probably built during the Cold War in case of a nuclear attack. The furniture was even dated.
Alistair had a meticulous flair to him. That, and he liked the designs.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:41 |
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Ooc: I have to go to dinner with my family soon. I'll return in a while. Please stay on if you can. However, if it is any consolation at all, don't
wait for me. :bic
Narci glared at him after following him into the shelter. He pulled the firing pin out of his gun and pocketed it. Tossing the useless pistol back
obligatedly, he put his hands on his hips.
"Do I look like I could hide anything?" He put one hip out, raising an eyebrow. He felt so dirty. He wanted to go home, take a hot bath, and steam for
a little bit. That'd clear his skin.
But nooo. His motherfucker had to ruin that for him.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 01:54 |
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Alistair shrugged. "Remember, I've been around you for a while, observing for even longer. You make a living out of deceit and violence. You're never
going to trust me, and I'll never trust you. In that sense, we're even. But what you FUCKING did to my ear, I don't even know how you did!" Alistair
closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He mustn't lose his temper. "Will it heal?" He asked, opening cool eyes to look at the man who'd hurt him. It
didn't help for him that he couldn't hear out of that ear and felt off-balance, a sign that his eardrum was damaged.
With a handmotion, Alistair led them through the crawl-space. He could squeeze through with hardly any space, but the other man was smaller. Even if
it was carved out of dirt, at least there wasn't muck at the bottom. It was a couple of feet above the 'sidewalk' in the sewer, so even heavy rain
wouldn't flood it with sewer water. Once out, Alistair turned right and began walking. It would be about a mile from here, he thought with a sigh. The
floors were lined in brick and stone, that he occasionally had cleaned, so they weren't too bad. The walls were concrete, all the way through, but
they had a couple of layers to make them more sound-proof than the sewers. Part of this Alistair had built; the rest of it was here already when he
found it. He just added in the 'soundproof' part and the floors, as well as making more rooms. There were two bedrooms, so at least they could both
sleep on a (separate) bed. However, there was only one bathroom. Alistair would forfeit first rights to it to allow 'his highness' to bathe first.
"When we get there, the bathroom's to the left and it's the first door on your left. The shower and the bath work, though there's not an abundance of
hot water. However, I'd imagine if you could singe my ear, then you can warm your own bathtub." Yes, Alistair was still bitter. And
he'd be bitter for a long time.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 02:01 |
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Narci raised his eyebrow at him, wiping himself off.
"I don't know. Maybe...should I care?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and glaring coldly. His teeth were clenched tightly and his arms were crossed.
"Because I don't. Sorry to disappoint you."
He glanced down at his nails. He was missing, by glance, 7 stones. Damn.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 02:03 |
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Alistair sighed. "Whatever." He should have known better than to think he'd get an answer. Alistair made sure to increase his pace gradually, just to
make the other guy mad. He was sure at a position of such high authority, the man wasn't used to walking a mile. Well, tough luck for him, because
that was just what he'd be doing. Alistair smirked. Karma's a bitch, baby... he thought as he continued down the hallway, as impervious as
ever. Alistair was used to this kind of stuff. He could run three miles without slowing. It was absolutely necessary to have endurance in his line of
work.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 25-8-2007 at 14:45 |
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Narci clenched his thick teeth tightly. He kept his eyes on the man, not daring to lower them even the slightest bit. This asshole was a real...well,
asshole. He wanted to kill him so badly...but then again, Narci wanted to live. And he put his life at a higher value than this guy's, so he wasn't
going to jepordise it.
He felt his hands rolling with the flames each fist was clenched around and he told himself to calm down. He figured that the man had no idea what he
had gone through to become the Godfather of the Mafia.
'That makes him the dumbass,' Narci thought, smirking to himself. He felt his hands cool a little and, as they turned a corner, he leaned enough to
dip a hand in the water, as sickeningly filthy as it was.
Steam rose from the water and it made a soft sizzling sound. Narci pulled it out, shaking all of the water off of it as best he could. Adjusting his
naval ring, he kept his eyes on the traitor. He never stopped walking after him.
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Ticky*Fangirl
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| posted on 26-8-2007 at 22:51 |
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Alistair didn't stop until he was there. He didn't care about poor, sob-story criminal. Why should he? He was only helping the guy out because he had
pointed a gun at Alistair's head, and would likely decapitate him in the near future.
What a way to put out someone's sense of vengeance. Just thinking about it, Alistair instinctively slowed down out of respect. Respect not for the
man, mind you, but what he could, and would likely, do to Alistair. "This is it." He said, pulling down a not-so-easy-to-move lever and shoving open
the metal door it was attached to.
The shelter wasn't badly equipped. When you first walked in, there was a TV that worked by stealing cable from the folks upstairs, a couch and a
little table, with a lounge chair in the corner closer to the door with a little light, which Alistair turned on. There were no ceiling lights, or
ceiling fans, though a portable fan was in the closet. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen besides. The kitchen was outfitted with
about a hundred non-perishables, from soup to ramen to microwave dinners. If his...'boss' didn't like the food, Alistair could always go to his
friend's store, about 250 feet from the sewer entrance. Alistair knew these passageways better than his home. Of course, he rarely visited his home
any more, so that wasn't saying much. "Home sweet home, until your profile lowers and you can emerge into your back-alleys again to make more shady
deals." That would take a while. Alistair walked to the couch and made himself comfortable. "You get first shower." He wouldn't tell the man about the
limited hot water situation. Information was on a need-to-know basis, and the boss didn't need to know.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 27-8-2007 at 02:44 |
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Narci glared at the back of his head when he spoke. Glaring at him, he scoffed. He closed the door after crawling inside. This guy was really asking
for it.
He stood, observing the room they were in. Keeping one eye on the man, he moved along the wall, glancing into the ajoining rooms. He spotted the
bathroom and smiled in slight relief. There was a shower in there. No soap or anything, but at least he could bathe.
'Oh, that will be lovely,' he thought, 'perhaps I'll do that now.'
Turning to the other man, he cleared his throat.
"I'm going to take a shower," he said plainly, pulling off his half-shirt with the netted sleeves. Brushing his hair from his eyes, he put his hands
on his hips, staring at the man.
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Ticky*Fangirl
Senior Member
Posts: 952
Registered: 4-3-2007
Location: Working Too Much
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Mood: Waiting for the weekend...
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| posted on 27-8-2007 at 11:04 |
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Alistair watched the man lazily as he moved around. He didn't like Alistair, but that was to be expected. Allistair nodded, suppressing a noise of
disdain. "That was the plan," He said lazily, kicking his boots off onto the floor before resting his feet on the arm of the couch and lying back
lazily, "But you can undress in the bathroom; you don't have to do it here. Oh, and whichever bedroom you want, take it." Alistair was being
incredibly generous. He was not only sharing his safest shelter, but he gave 'the boss' first shower and his choice of bedroom. So generous.
While the other guy was showering, Alistair got up and went into the bedroom on the left, which had a mirror in it. He took one glance at his ear and
yelled, "Shit!" He had no idea what that goddamn mob boss had done to his ear, but it didn't look like it'd heal easily. Grumbling, Alistair went to
fetch the first aid kit. He'd take it with him in the bath, since his ear couldn't (or shouldn't) tolerate water being blasted at it. Besides, if he
bandaged it up now, the bandages would get all wet and be useless.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 27-8-2007 at 16:05 |
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Narci narrowed his eyes at him and raised an eyebrow.
"I can undress wherever I see fit."
With that, he pulled off his pants, leaving himself naked. With a cocky smirk on his lips, he went into he bedroom on the right, throwing his clothes
on the little bed. The entire place smelled terrible, but he told himself he'd deal with it. He got into the shower and tried to drown in it.
The water was hot. Not warm, but hot. It stung as it touched his skin, but he just smiled. As the shower went, he practically had to hold in a moan.
It was perfect.
After he had rinsed himself, he got out, grabbing the only towel he could find. There was a hole in the towel, but he didn't care. Wrapping it around
him, he walked into the living room, then to the man in the other bathroom.
"What's your problem?" He asked, referencing the cry he heard from the shower. He leaned on the door frame, his black hair pulled back in a small
ponytail.
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Ticky*Fangirl
Senior Member
Posts: 952
Registered: 4-3-2007
Location: Working Too Much
Member Is Offline
Mood: Waiting for the weekend...
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| posted on 27-8-2007 at 20:50 |
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Alistair narrowed his eyes in return, his lips setting in a frown. This man wanted to be stubborn, fine. Alistair relaxed, his eyes lazily drifting
down to the man's feet then back up to his face. His eyes narrowed and he smirked confidently, making sure he met ‘the boss’s eyes. Alistair didn’t
say a word, however; he merely let the other draw whatever conclusions he wished.
Alistair was afraid he would use up all the hot water. Which meant he’d have to bathe in ice-cold water. Not that Alistair minded. He never really got
sick, and actually preferred extreme cold over extreme heat. It had the graciousness to numb you before it did any damage, unlike fire, which hurt
before your nerves were cut off.
When the other man walked in, Alistair glared at him. “What the fuck did you do to my ear?!” He practically yelled, stomping off to the bathroom
shortly after (grabbing one of the good towels from the closet first), and slammed the door behind him, plugging the drain and turning the water on
warm. He ripped off his pants, but made sure to be gentle with his shirt. Looking again in the mirror, he almost felt sick looking at his ear, where
dribbles of blood had dried and which was now black and shriveled. This wouldn’t be good for him at all.
Once the tub was full enough, Alistair stopped the water and stepped in. He shivered. “YOU USED UP ALL THE GODDAMN HOT WATER!” He shouted at his
soon-to-be roommate. This would likely not end well.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 28-8-2007 at 03:31 |
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Narci smirked as he asked, again letting the question go unanswered. This man wasn't really hoping for an answer. If he was, he'd stay. Narci turned,
watching him go.
He was cute when he got mad.
Narci's lips curved into a smirk and he went into his bedroom. When he heard the yell, he glared at the bathroom door. With a cold scoff, he stalked
over and pounded a fist on the door.
"Get the fuck over it! I'll do whatever I want!"
This man was getting on his nerves. Big time.
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Ticky*Fangirl
Senior Member
Posts: 952
Registered: 4-3-2007
Location: Working Too Much
Member Is Offline
Mood: Waiting for the weekend...
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| posted on 28-8-2007 at 11:03 |
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Alistair snarled. Considering this was his place they were hiding out in, the man could at least have some respect. Whatever, though,
Alistair thought, shaking his head. He'd have a good bath, even in cold water.
As Alistair slowly lowered himself in the water, he could feel the coldness soak in, relaxing his muscles. Alistair sighed, lowering his head so that
the water was at jaw-height, then turning his head with a cringe to let the cool water heal his ear. He'd definitely have to bandage it up and contact
his doctor-on-call to look at it. After Charlie came in and took off his disguise and giving the mob boss a do-over so he'd be harder to recognize.
Alistair groaned. It'd take so much effort to keep such an ungrateful shit alive. He wondered why he was doing this.
Alistair got out and drained the water, drying off his face carefully before opening the First Aid Kit and gently applying burn creme to his wound. He
then stuck a thick square of gauze over his ear and taped it to his forehead. There. He didn't look so bad. Alistair frowned and tugged at his black
hair. Yes, Charlie would have to visit soon. He liked his natural dirty-blonde hair, and his green eyes, instead of these coffee-colored ones. Ah
well. Alistair wrapped the towel around himself and then went into his bedroom, questing for a good pair of jeans and a shirt the moths hadn't gotten
to.
You Love The Pain.
You Play The Game.
You Sleep With Sin.
You Want To Win. |
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TheHauntress
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| posted on 28-8-2007 at 16:52 |
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Narci had left back to his room and crashed on the bed. His head was pounding with pain and he had an odd, uncomfortable twisting in his gut. He
swallowed, holding his stomach. He lay bare on the bed, staring at the wall with the towel over his waist. He was the Godfather. He as the Don. He was
the big guy.
'They all asked to die,' he thought, glaring at the grey, dirty wall, 'and I have done nothing wrong.'
Sighing, he turned from the wall, clenching his teeth in his mouth. He shuddered a little. He hadn't gotten dried off all the way and he was cold. He
heard the other male get out of the shower. He opened his eyes and peeked out of the door. He saw the last of the man's flesh disappear into the room
on the other side of the shelter.
He was quite attractive when he wasn't betraying the mob-boss and acting like a little bitch. A small smile tugged at the corner of Narci's lips. He
was a natural blonde.
A small smirk formed across his lips.
Getting out of the bed, he crossed to the door of the other's room and leaned against the door frame. His black, white-tipped bangs fell across his
face and he smiled.
"So, who are you really?"
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