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Tweak says, "You've stolen my soul!"

so many blank faces (remainlost) wrote in ergot,
@ 2009-11-08 01:02:00

RP: Dancing Against the Wall
Characters Jensen Luce & Valery Roth
Place the Murder (small club in the downtown area)
Date 11.1 | Very late Evening
Summary Its a Saturday night (well Sunday morning), dancing and drinking are bound to happen.
Rating/Warnings R [language, flirtation, dancing, drinking]

Two days he'd been in town, two, and he knew he should go visit Julia and Cris, go see Bex and Olivia, find out what Val was up too; it was the reason, after all, that he had returned to Charon's Ford in the first place. He missed the only semblance of family he had left, realized after nearly five years of wandering that being away from them didn't change the beast that he was inside. He knew all of this and returned because all of it, yet he still did not seek them out. The town wasn't large, soon word would get out, they would find out--Jensen knew, yet he still avoided their end of town, not knowing why exactly.

Still, it was nice to be somewhere familiar, somewhere that he knew like the back of his hand. He could wander alleys and streets blind and he did not get lost, it was the beauty of the Ford, things changed but slowly over time, never in rushes and never in a few incidental years. It was how he found himself sitting at the bar of A Murder in a Small Town, better known as 'the Murder' to locals. A club that he remembered, and found still to be true, was popular on weekends with the twenty-somethings. It was dark and throbbing and it always had giving him enough cover to be inconspicuous if he wanted. Tonight he didn't want to be. Though still, he needed a few drinks in him before he found a partner for the night, Jensen was confident with women, he always had been--but he still required just a little liquid courage to get him started.

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hocus_x_pocus
2009-11-08 07:52 pm UTC (link)

Valery enjoyed her weekends. She as driven, hard working, and on the ball during the week, managing the shop and working on people daily. So when the weekends came around she enjoyed letting lose and having a good time. Of course, her idea of a good time didn't include loud drunken partying, but not much about her was typical.

No weekends for Val were spent at The Murder. It was a darker club catering to people who typically lived on the outsides of society. On any given night you could find vampires, werewolves, or those who pretended to be such. It was a club that catered to Charon's Ford- even those who didn't understand what went bump in the night.

She was leaning against the wall, drink in hand, as she surveyed the other club goers. The gothic tone of the place typically attracted people from the neighboring towns and villages looking for an alternative entertainment venue and so there was always a good mixture of fresh faces. Tonight was no different.

She saw him sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and instinctively she was drawn to him. Val could never put her finger on what exactly it was, but like a predator stalking pray she'd decided on him. He would be the one she'd take home tonight, the one to work out all of her kinks.

As his eye caught hers for a moment before raking over her body clad in leather and fishnet, she smirked. It was a challenge. It was an invitation.

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remainlost
2009-11-09 10:51 pm UTC (link)

Shooting two shots of vodka and ordering a scotch, he'd turned slightly at the bar, looking around the dark thudding room as the cool cut glass felt heavy against his palm. He'd traveled cities, states, been to a large meandering of clubs and bars, but he always held the Murder close to his heart. It was always the one place he knew he was at home in, the Ford was full of others with just as dark of secrets as him, and it was a sort of silent camaraderie that made him comfortable in the thick air. Even five years gone and no knowledge of the new faces that lurked, he felt tied to them, knowing amongst the four walls he wasn't alone.

Taking a slow sip of the amber liquid, he let his eyes roam over the floor. It was as busy as he remembered it, possibly more; wetting his lips he turned his arm back to put the drink down and better just look around the room, fingers still playing with the glass even as he did so. It still even smelled the same, his mild werewolf senses picking up the nuances of scents in the air. Sure the people didn't, but the bar, the chairs, the liquor supply, even the mild smokey smell was the same. Jensen closed his eyes for a moment and took in a breath, relishing in the nostalgia when he caught something else.

It was leather and sweet, and something familiar, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Eyes opening they seemed to zone in on the girl, woman, looking straight at him. His own gaze met hers dead on, waiting for recognition or something similar, but none came. Instead, or perhaps because of, his eyes raked over her body; she was filled out in all the right sorts of places and he turned back to his scotch, finishing it with an exhaled breath before slowly standing.

Stretching slightly, Jensen then turned to the bar, ordered two more drinks and after getting them both in hand began to slide through the crowd slowly, taking his time though his gaze never firmly left the woman standing in the corner.

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hocus_x_pocus
2009-11-11 03:55 am UTC (link)

The music in the club seemed to fit her mood perfectly. It was dark, deep, pulsating. Her smirk only grew as she felt it moving through her. And when the man looked at her? She felt an unjustified rush of power, even more so when he started moving through the crowd. Val hadn't missed the drink he had ordered and was curious just what this man would think she would want.

There was an energy, intoxicating in itself, between them in the silence of distance. The simply anticipation of the moment was almost enough to drive her mad and she found she actually had to struggle to stay where she was. The more she saw the more she wanted but she had to remember that part of the game was making him come to her. By the time he was close she was already buzzing. She liked a man who knew how to take his time.

He was almost there. She licked her full lips, running her teeth over the bottom one slowly, the whole time her eyes never leaving his. It was an electric feeling. "I don't want to know your name," she told him, her voice deep and surprisingly smooth, despite being quiet in the loud club. "And I won't give you mine." It was a promise.

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remainlost
2009-11-11 04:19 am UTC (link)

There were people moving, sort of dancing throughout the place and Jensen moved past some of them paying no attention while others he let his eyes catch a glimpse of a swaying hip or a touching hand, just enough to slow him down but never stopping. His heart was starting to thud hard with the beat in the air and the knowledge that he was hunting. The closer he got the more she seemed to tense: in the way her shoulders tightened and her body moved, and he didn't know if it was from the knowledge that a strange man was moving toward her or that the strange man was nearly pulsating to meet her. He felt like it was a game they had somehow wrapped themselves in in the busy club and he didn't even know who she was; but he figured, from the fact she hadn't moved away and try to hide herself, she felt the same.

Jensen did slow down to a near stop when he was only a few paces away from her, lifting his glass from the rim to take a drink, still watching her not missing the way her teeth scrapped at her lip; she was taunting him. And he liked it.

As the crowds seemed to part at the final steps and Jensen moved to slid up to her, his lips curled into a smirk and he smoothly slipped the glass of whiskey into her hand, as if she had asked for it before raising his own to take another drink. Jensen hadn't even managed to open his mouth to give his name when she was telling him not too. He liked the game they had started, already. Silently smacking his lips together, clearing off the remnants of the burning liquid from his mouth, he gave a curt nod and bent his head down just enough that it would be easier to speak to her, without having to raise his voice.

"Then I won't ask for it." His voice was thick, rough and though deep as it was as it rumbled in his chest, he had no doubt she hadn't heard him.

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hocus_x_pocus
2009-11-11 04:34 am UTC (link)

Val didn't typically take drinks from strange men but her eyes had been on him intensely enough to know that he hadn't spiked it. She'd seen him take it from the bartender and he would have had to be extremely smooth to pull it over on her. So when her fingers closed around the cool heavy glass she paused only a moment, and not in hesitation, before lifting it's rim to her lips and letting the burning liquid make it's way down her throat. It felt good. It felt right. It suited him, this.

His voice when he spoke pleased her. It was deep, quiet, and rumbled along her drink-soaked nerves deliciously. The words were even more promising. Val hated small talk though. In fact, when she was in this mood, she hated most talking if it wasn't dirty talk. She knew what she wanted and didn't enjoy pretending to have other interests to get it. She didn't care who he was, if he came here often, or how good his game was. She only wanted to know if he could get it done for her.

Taking another drink, longer this time, her eyes flicked to the dance floor. It would be a suitable waste of time, she supposed. "Do you want to dance?" she asked as her eyes drifted back to him.

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remainlost
2009-11-15 12:13 am UTC (link)

He watched her throat roll as she took a sip of the drink he'd so smoothly handed her and rose his glass to take a sip of his own. There was something fascinating about the woman in front of him; of course there had to have been for him to move over to her with little prompting, to even buy a drink without talking to her first, but upon coming over to her--to be immediately told not to give his name...she was a unique brand of woman.

Moving to a more vertical position then that of leaning towards her, Jensen took another drink, though the next much longer and heavier, running his tongue over the corner of his mouth as his eyes focused on hers. "I dont' dance," Jen's voice was rough and slightly amused, his lips turning to lift in a smirk before his arm was reaching out toward her. With a gentle grasp he slid the glass from her hand out easily, letting his rough finger tips brush only slightly against her skin before moving both drinks to a side table.

"I think I'll be making an exception."

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hocus_x_pocus
2009-11-16 01:36 am UTC (link)

Despite how coolly Val was capable of playing it, she found herself captivated by this man. There was something about him that she couldn't seem to turn away from and she couldn't have put her finger on it if she'd tried- which she didn't. Val had learned to accept the good things in life without over analyzing them and ruining their magic.

Her look darkened, however, when he told her he wasn't going to dance with her. Of course minutes later they were on the floor. The beat was stronger and more intoxicating closer to the speakers until Valery was lost in a sort of haze. She could feel his hands on her, his body against her, and the thrumming of the music within her. It wasn't long before her mind was far past the dance floor. She had always been a woman who knew what she wanted in all things. Unlike many people just starting college, Val never changed her major, she never questioned her school of choice, she never questioned her career moves or her choice to move on her own at only nineteen. Valery Roth knew what she wanted right then too and there was no quesiton in her mind whether she'd get it.

Turning in his arms her lips brushed over his ear. "My place," she was all she murmured before she let her lips trail down his neck. In the next moment she was talking off of the dance floor toward the bar, laying down enough to cover her tab plus tip and hardly waiting for him to do the same.

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remainlost
2009-11-16 04:08 pm UTC (link)

By the time they had moved to the floor, the music heavy in his ears and in his chest, he knew that tonight he'd do whatever she asked. He didn't know her name, she didn't know his, but he knew enough that they would be finding creative things to call each other tonight. It was the night before a full moon and this woman had called upon a level of lust he wasn't even used to other moons. She had captivated him in the same way that he had for her, it was with all his human [mental] strength that he didn't just take her on the dance-floor itself.

When she turned to him with her hot lips and breath against his skin, the hand on her hip almost curled tightening into the skin to hold her against him but she was slipping away and after calming the internal monster inside him, he followed after her, watching her body move through the crowd.

Unlike her, he had handed off a credit card earlier in the night and upon returning he called up his tab where they quickly and efficiently handed it back off to him, bill paid. Putting everything back into his wallet and tucked into his back pocket, Jen was nearly back behind her in a blink of an eye, running a hand down her waist and hip, nearly along her hard stomach to rest on her leg. "Lead the way." His lips tilted to speak against her ear, nipping at the smooth skin right below the lobe before letting her go.

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hocus_x_pocus
2009-11-19 02:34 am UTC (link)

She grinned wickedly to herself when she felt his hand on her, him keeping in step with her. It was nice to know he could keep up- and better to know he was following. The teeth on her skin only drove her more mad and she considered just slipping into the woods behind the club to get on with things. But no. She had a feeling about him- a feeling he wasn't going to make her want for anything and she certianly didn't want to hold back during.

Once they slid into her car she smirked at him once before driving to her place, wondering (not for the first time) if it was wise to bring men back there. She'd rather be on her own territory though. There wasn't much talking with the music up in her car and the drive home short.

They were barely through the door before she had him pressed against a wall, her lips brushing his skin as if teasing herself about having him. She needed him. But she needed him just as riled up as she was.

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