Jonas Dufaux (bronas) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-01-16 23:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, devon dackers, jonas dufaux |
WHO: Jonas Dufaux & Devon Dackers
WHAT: Post-coitus Vol superiority talk, duh.
WHEN: WAY BACKDATED to Christmas break, before the kidnappings.
WHERE: Switzerland!
WARNINGS: Sexytimes.
STATUS: Complete!
JONAS: As far as Jonas could tell, Devon Dackers was -- in almost every way -- the ideal sex partner. She was fun (even wild) in bed, she did not seem at all interested in mixing sex with terrible things like love or emotions, and most importantly, she didn't insist on cuddling after the fact. Jonas was not a fan of cuddling. He could tolerate it when necessary, but he much preferred to bed women who understood that there was no need to be so overly affectionate. Once the kissing and the fucking was over, what was the point of caressing and nuzzling? But Devon seemed to be on the same wavelength, and it was something that Jonas appreciated about her. It was a good thing, too -- he'd hedged his bets, inviting people to stay with him in Switzerland, and Devon was the only person who'd taken him up on the pre-Christmas portion. More people would arrive soon, but for now it was just the two of them sharing the chalet with Leonie, Jonas's older sister. There was more than enough room for the three of them (with plenty left over) but Jonas knew that he wouldn't have wanted to spend that much time in bed with a clinger. In his experience, when girls spent that much time alone with him, they started to get... ideas. Jonas was not a big fan of ideas. "It is snowing." He could see the flurries coming down, caught in the light from a nearby window. The night was black. Devon was laying next to him in the dark. DEVON: On her end, Devon hadn't found much to complain about either in her choice of partner. She'd had her eye on Jonas for some time -- from before IVI, even, stalking his youtube channel with the ardor of a young Vol hungry for more exposure to the Vol community, a fact that she'd half-admitted already. They shared an interest and a general attitude that appealed to her, a devil-may-care disregard for other people's feelings beyond what immediately benefited them and the morality inherent in that: she wasn't about to claim she'd found a kindred spirit in Jonas, but it was that, essentially. Devon had been pleased about being granted the opportunity to get to know him better -- more intimately, specifically -- before she'd even realized that they were going to be relatively alone for the beginning of break, and (silently) grateful for the escape. The last thing she wanted to do was head back to New Zealand for her winter vacation. The chalet and the alpine view was just icing on her cake. She'd made herself at home since her arrival, and hadn't wasted much time getting rid of her clothes in his presence. Sure, she'd had the pleasure of fighting with Saraswati and screwing Ted not long before break had begun, but prior to that, she'd been well frustrated with the lack of action in her life. Jonas had proven to be a very satisfying solution. And skiing -- and Jonas and skiing, because the risk of flying headlong down a dangerous slope had proven to be a cheerfully fantastic aphrodisiac even in the snow -- helped as well. Generally, Devon was quite pleased with herself, and she was lounging comfortably in the afterglow on her stomach, a pillow tucked under her chest and the sheets tangled around the tracking anklet as she glanced up towards the window. "Beats the bloody heat," she grinned as she reached over him to grab the pack of fancy European cigarettes she'd gotten him to buy for her from the bedside table. He didn't smoke, but he hadn't minded when she did, and she fancied a fag after their exertions. Lighting up, she blew smoke towards the ceiling and peered thoughtfully up into the cloud. "This whole temporary freedom thing is such a bitch. I could get used to this for a bit." Devon paused, flicking at her fingernail, then laughed. "Until I got bored at least. Still." JONAS: Jonas did not reply right away. He breathed in the smell of smoke, allowing himself to relax. Smoking was one of the few vices he had never picked up -- alcohol and cocaine were his drugs of choice -- but there was a familiarity about the smell that he enjoyed. It brought hazy memories of all-night parties to his mind, of trashy French girls who were eager to jump into bed. He watched the snow fall and felt no need to break the silence. Finally he turned to face Devon. "I would not mind being at IVI, were we given the option to leave more frequently. The people there, they enjoy complaining, but many parts -- they are not so bad. For instance, I would rather live with other Vols. And even the training, I do not so much mind. We are getting more powerful. I am not understanding how this is a bad thing." DEVON: Smoking brought back memories for Devon too, but they were of a decidedly different caliber -- memories of half-falling, sweaty and adrenaline-charged and sometimes bloody out of underground clubs after bad amateur Kiwi metal shows, bumming lights off the huge Maori bouncer, trading blows with her friends and laughing the whole way home. She missed psychedelics, climbing up into the Tripping Tree in the botanical gardens, hanging out in the skate park by the marina, scaling the Bucket Fountain just to be assholes...not enough to go back to do it again, but her life before IVI had been full of attempts at excitement. George Cooper had been exciting. But it was an event she'd watched from the outside. "No, exactly." She nodded in the darkness, colorful hair swaying around her jaw. "People are always bitching about it, but it's ridiculous. Do you know there are estimated to be about ten Vols in all of New Zealand? I only met two others before IVI, and I was really searching. And there, like -- I got to try out Mason's power in training the other week. I'm in amazing shape. Wolfe can be a complete dick, but he obviously knows what he's doing, and the rest of my team just cries about how badly he treats us." Devon clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I thought the Roosters were going to be winners, not babies about the whole thing." JONAS: Jonas chuckled at the mention of her team. They were insufferable, most of them -- still better than the average person, due to their status as Vols, but Jonas wasn't overly fond of the kind of self-righteousness he saw in many of Devon's teammates. Allegra, Mason, American Sam -- the worst. In his opinion, they all just needed to learn how to have a little bit of fun. The Roosters were far too uptight. Not that Team Loon was much better. "We should start our own team, yes?" He looked at her, grinning. "This would be much better, training with people who were worth training with." DEVON: She shot a grin back at him. "Well we've already started assembling," Devon pointed out, punctuating her point with a wave of her cigarette in the air. "Villain Team." Dragging and exhaling, she shrugged her bare shoulders a bit and shifted against the pillow beneath her. "I mean it's been a joke, of course, but really, I can count on one hand all the people I've any interest in spending any quality time with or who have -- you know, potential. Who aren't a complete waste of space." Devon reached out after a moment to trail her fingernails lightly down his chest, concentrating on his skin as she spoke. "Everyone's so worried about their families and their friends, or what the world thinks of them, how they're going to go back to their old lives. It's pathetic. No one else really seems to understand that we've become better than everyone else. Getting tied down by all those stupid little people is such a waste. We've got these powers and it's like we're cheating or crossing some line if we even bother trying to use them, if it's not healing or something conveniently good for mankind -- it's such bullshit, ay?" JONAS: "Mm," Jonas murmured his agreement. He hadn't really thought that hard about it, but Devon put things so eloquently and with such fervor, he couldn't help but agree. "The world, they are jealous," he simply said, watching her hand as it made its way down his chest. Jonas had no problem believing that people might be jealous of him. He'd lived his entire life under the assumption that everyone was. It was the natural order of things. "Once all Vols realize this, I think we will be much better off. We should not try to be normal." He spat out the word. "We are better than this." DEVON: If she was inspiring him to agree, his agreement was inspiring her to building excitement. "Exactly," she nodded. "Exactly. Who the fuck wants to be normal? Ordinary? What kind of a life is that?" Unlike Jonas, she'd never garnered much jealousy from her peers. Possessive rage once or twice -- she used to like to flirt with other girls' boyfriends, just because she could -- but those girls usually looked down on her as much as they disliked her. The closest she'd ever come was the look in Mason's eyes when he'd understood what her power really felt like, and for a moment, she'd been pleased with herself. But mostly Devon just lived in dread of the mundane and ordinary. She'd dyed her hair pink and pierced up her nose, her ears, her tongue so that no one could ever mistake her for being normal, even at first glance. Her fingers had made their way down to his stomach. "Someone's got to shout it from the rooftops," she sighed, dragging and exhaling smoke across his chest. "It's all the apologizers who are the loudest. 'Oh, don't worry about us,'" she mimicked in a high-pitched voice, mocking the Vol Club and anyone who had publicly professed similar sentiments, "'we're all so helpless and full of goodwill, we're nothing to worry about! Don't mind us!' Like any normal human could really stop us if even a few of us were working together." JONAS: He gained a grin while she spoke, and it extended nearly from ear to ear. His was a ruthless, cocky kind of smile -- the kind that fit so perfectly upon Jonas's face. He reached for Devon's hand and pushed it flat against his stomach, pushing it down. "No one can stop us," he agreed, all confidence and swag. Jonas bent his head and pressed his lips against Devon's bare shoulder. He finished the kiss with his teeth, grazing her skin. He could feel his powers kicking in and he reeled them back, taking only the slightest bit of strength from the girl with pink hair. "But I would like to see them try." |