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Oct 24, 2008 11:45:32 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 24, 2008 11:45:32 GMT -5
“What a damn drama queen!” I mumbled as I put my head down boredly. “No fun what so ever.” I let out a strangled sigh. If I’m going to stay with this guy he better become less of a priss very soon. He’s boring me. I sat there for awhile longer tapping my fingers and dryly chuckling about his expression(s) he had done until he made his vicious way into the restroom.
“Hmmmmm… I wonder what guys do in restrooms…” I pondered, my gaze drifting over to the obnoxiously curiosity-provoking door. I should surprise him. That thought made me laugh. He already wants to burn me on the stake I wonder what he’d do to me after that. I let that shake away. I felt like dancing. I laughed again. Half consciously drinking the rest of the half full wine bottle, and reaching for another half empty pitcher on someone else’s empty table. Killing brain cells never felt so good. Of course I have control over my fate! I just chose right then that I want to get bloody drunk and possibly pass out. “Strong stuff,” I muttered almost incoherently as I strutted dreamily by to the restroom. People’s faces blurring by. The men’s restroom… “Hey, drama queen.” I laughed out in a tickled loud way, letting the door swing open. “I… thought that red… was quite suiting for you!” I paused to take another tired step. “My liver will never forgive me,” I leaned onto a urinal, preparing myself to possibly throw-up into it.
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Oct 24, 2008 12:35:09 GMT -5
Post by +.Henry.+ on Oct 24, 2008 12:35:09 GMT -5
The blond stared into the mirror as Mable staggered through the door, able to see her perfectly. Okay, so he knew she was curious. She must also be stark raving mad for having had so much wine. At least that’s what he thought she did. It definitely looked like it. She looked like she would fall over before she reached the toilet.
“What did you do, drink the whole bottle?” he asked, his eyebrows raising. He looked very amused. “Maybe I should have had a bit more, so that I may be on your level of thinking, hmm?” He could only imagine what that was. He didn’t often drink whole bottles of wine within a span of a few minutes. Actually, never. The most he’d ever had caused him to pass out and wake up to find up-chuck all over the floor. Not to mention he had a hangover.
Lord Loki turned around to watch Mable, not moving away from the sink. It was very possible that if he went over to help her she would undoubtedly throw up on him instead. He was sure in her mind he would make a funny target. That is, if her wine-befuddled state of mind allowed for such thinking. He pushed himself up so he was sitting on the counter, held out his wine glass [that he had held onto for whatever reason] under the sink, and filled it with water. With a smug look, he held it out for the girl to take.
“Do not over reach,” he cautioned in a cheerful voice. “I would not want you to fall over.”
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Oct 24, 2008 21:46:03 GMT -5
Post by .:Mink:. on Oct 24, 2008 21:46:03 GMT -5
Think of something else, perhaps like what the smurf I was doing here. [[LOL, someone at school screamed "what the smurf" today. XD]]
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Oct 28, 2008 18:00:25 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 28, 2008 18:00:25 GMT -5
{{Stop reading our posts D:<}}
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Oct 28, 2008 18:32:39 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 28, 2008 18:32:39 GMT -5
{{I love the fact that Mable is comepletely coherent when she's drunk XD}}
“I’m afraid I couldn’t drink the whole bottle because you washed it down the sink a few minutes ago” I snickered, not a right move, I paused a few seconds to take a breath “You know… I could have licked it off of your bare body but you came storming in here like the delicate mushroom you are.” I stood there for awhile longer in that position that probably resembled a lawyer in a lawyer-like starchy suit enjoying my state of pain. I heard the faucet turn on and tried gagging… I finally agreed that nothing was going to come up, and whipped the glass out of the smirk-bearing blondie‘s hand, pulling it up to my probably currently blue face. I took a swig and nearly died. “Tap water!?” I gurgled at him, chucking the glass at his face. “Are you trying to poison me!?” I knew that didn’t make sense, but neither did this situation! “Tap water!?” I repeated.
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Oct 28, 2008 19:04:08 GMT -5
Post by +.Henry.+ on Oct 28, 2008 19:04:08 GMT -5
Lord Loki smartly sidestepped the flying glass just as it whizzed past him and into the mirror. The glass broke instantly, little pieces scattering across the floor. Nothing too harsh happened to the mirror, minus a fugly smudge mark.
“Oopsie,” he said with a smug smile, glancing sideways at Mable. “Look what you have done. Tsk tsk. That wont go so well with the staff here, I think.” He strutted over to the girl and grabbed the back of her shirt collar, holding her against him. He combed his fingers through her hair, appraising them both in the mirror. He towered over her.
“There is always time for that later,” he told her, smirking. “This is but a prelude of what is to come. You will dine with the finest of meals, and will be treated like a queen, if you wish so.” He yanked her towards the door. “But not until you have done as I ask,” he added. He dragged her through the door and towards the front of the restaurant, grabbing a whole pitcher of water from a waitress and shoving it into Mable’s grasp. “There is your water.” He hurried them briskly along, shoving past anyone in their way. They made it through safely until they got to the entrance, where their waitress ran up.
“You didn’t pay for your meal!” she shouted. “You cant just le—“ Bullet to the mouth. Her brains splattered back all over the floor. But the pair of ‘pardners in crime’ were already out the door, with the cloaked man hailing for a taxi. He pushed the freckly girl into the nearest one, then climbed in after her.
“Take us to the edge of town,” he told the driver. As they took off, he turned to look at Mable. “So, how was your dinner?” he asked with a knowing smile. “Everything you wished for and more?”
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Oct 28, 2008 19:17:03 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 28, 2008 19:17:03 GMT -5
I was angry. He was happy. I wanted him to be angry. “Quite.” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration. At this point I didn’t care if he could read me. I stared out the window blankly just about ready to have my thoughts engulf my mind until I realized he hadn’t answered my questions. I sat there pouting at him until he turned, and yes, he was to make eye contact. I narrowed my eyes until I was sure he had a sheer hint of discomfort. “You hadn’t answered my questions, Blondie,” I growled through my teeth. “And if you don’t, I may be forced to pick an extra brutal permanent nickname for you,” I let myself turn, my arms still crossed. I cracked an evil smile.
“Let’s start with boxers or briefs.”
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Oct 28, 2008 19:32:32 GMT -5
Post by +.Henry.+ on Oct 28, 2008 19:32:32 GMT -5
At her seething glare, the tall guy’s smile was wiped off his face, turning into an uncomfortable frown. Which turned into an all out frown at her question. He started to reach across for her, then stopped short. Not time to loose control, what with the driver there to witness all. Nope, he’d have to wait until they were tucked safe away. Yep yep. He snapped his hand back at his side, his eyes burning.
“Of coarse,” he answered, smiling an obviously fake smile. His cheeks flushed with color. “Might as well, seeing as we will be in here a while…” How he wanted to strangle her. Great question to start off with. I mean, she didn’t even include the option of being commando. What if he went around commando, huh? No respect.
“Boxers,” he answered promptly, staring straight ahead, lips twitching.
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Oct 28, 2008 19:37:38 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 28, 2008 19:37:38 GMT -5
“Mmm… I see,” I said smugly, tossing his first reactions to the back of my mind to remember when the car stopped. I didn’t really want to think about what will happen when we leave the taxi.
“You always seemed more of a briefs kind of a guy to me,” I started, turning towards him again with my infamous dorky smile. “What color exactly? Any certain brand? Favorite design or cut?” I inquired, latching myself onto his arm. Smiling into his face and batting my eyelashes.
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Oct 28, 2008 19:50:23 GMT -5
Post by +.Henry.+ on Oct 28, 2008 19:50:23 GMT -5
Okay. He wanted to kill this girl. He wanted to torture her like he tortured all the others—no, worse. If only she wasn’t so damn important. Indispensable, to be exact. If she was she wouldn’t have lasted past leaving the hospital. But he could at least cause her some pain. She’d survive. She was too stubborn. As he had experienced a lot of lately.
“Really now?” he asked, faking surprise. Still staring straight ahead. Probrably in his happy place. Which probrably included things like him wringing this girl’s neck. “Black, with silver studs on the edges,” he said as calmly as possible. “They’re silk, made by ROYALSILK,” he added, hoping to quench her thirst so she’d shut up. When she latched onto his arm, however, he could not help but to glance over to see her smiling and batting her eyes at him. His fingers twitched noticeably.
“Anything else you want to ask,?” he asked through clenched teeth.
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Oct 28, 2008 19:57:17 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 28, 2008 19:57:17 GMT -5
{{WATCH OUT! ADMIN BREAKING THE RULES!}}
“Mmm, silk, kiiiiinky. Where were they made?” I said, playing with his belt. Laughing in my head. “Hmmmm…” I rested my head on his arm, still latched. “Did I ask blondes or brunettes? I don’t care if I did. Blondes or brunettes? Or… Blonds or brunets without the e on the end if you… go that way… Or redheads. Yeah…” His arm was hard. And toned. I thought I would fall asleep on that muscle.
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Oct 28, 2008 20:08:58 GMT -5
Post by +.Henry.+ on Oct 28, 2008 20:08:58 GMT -5
[He's gunna get a boner if she keeps that up]
“Imported from Europe,” he muttered, looking down at her fingers as she played with his belt. Not making a move to stop her. “Does it matter?”
Trying to keep his hands busy so he wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ just so happen to shoot her brains out, he started combing his fingers through her hair. He figured he might as well play along with her. As annoying as it was. Give her what she wants. Make her think she’s won. Maybe she had. He wouldn’t admit that, if it were true.
“Blondes,” he replied, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Why do you think I chose you?”
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Oct 29, 2008 13:35:17 GMT -5
Post by Failure on Oct 29, 2008 13:35:17 GMT -5
lol.
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