InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "did you get my fax?"

spinrightround (spinrightround) wrote in pandorarpg,
@ 2011-10-17 11:14:00

Entry tags:

!status: complete, ^date: october 30 2003, character: alicia spinnet, character: theodore nott

Rated NC-17 for sexual situations
Who: Alicia Spinnet (disguised) and OPEN
What: A vision
Where: The Honeypot Strip Club
When: Sometime before 1am, october 30, 2003

She's totally committed
To major independence
But she's a lady through and through
She gives them quite a battle
All that they can handle
She'll bruise some
She'll hurt some too
But oh they love to watch her strut
Oh they do respect her but...

For some reason, Alicia never felt so free as when she was on the stage, a mask hiding her identity, a glamour over her tattoo, and her favourite thigh-high boots slipped over her legs like a second skin. She was in one of her standard costumes, not that the men ever minded. In the end, the outfits were more for her than for them.

She strutted down the stage in a confident manner, turning her head to smile at the men down below. She stopped by the edge and focused her attention on the one man there, her tongue lasciviously licking along her lips as her fingers deftly undid the buttons on her trench coat. Within moments, it was flung away to reveal the leather shorts and corset beneath.

In time to the music, she shimmied down onto her knees, her hands caressing her body through the leather, thrusting her breasts up and out so they would heave just so...

When suddenly, behind the man appeared her very worst nightmare. There were her parents and all of her closest friends, Angie front and center, and they looked at her with shame and accusation, obviously seeing through her disguise.

She fell over onto her hip, her body trembling all over in shock and humiliation. What were they doing there? What-

And just as suddenly... they were gone.

Yes she still couldn't move, so shaken was she by the sight. A shaking hand rose up to cover her mouth as tears fell through the mask.

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fiadornott
2011-10-20 05:26 am UTC (link)

In the spirit of utilitarianism, Theodore had decided that the best way to spend his evening was to enjoy himself. Normally enjoying himself meant the comfort of a hot cup of tea and a good book, but he had spent most of the day on his own already working on a cursed wardrobe. It was relatively tame to what he would see in Egypt but it kept him well occupied for the better part of the day and into the later evening (as it did take time to research and figure out the spells, as they typically were a bit different than Egyptian spells). Spending all day on his own in a large, dreary, dusty house aided with his decision to go somewhere else somewhat more stimulating (a man's gotta fulfill his needs one way or another). And plus it benefited those poor girls who obviously had some sort of aversion to clothing. Poor things.

He had been sitting in the audience, having his second drink when he noticed that the dancer seemed to be behaving oddly. Well not the same as theatrical oddly, but just odd. He took another sip of his drink when he had smelled the distinctively metallic smell of blood. It confirmed that something was amiss. He quickly rose, wand at the ready, when he noticed that things were now silent; gone was the music, gone was the room and its occupants--the walls were closing in. Oddly enough it was familiar, but in some ways it perplexed him. What was a boggart doing here? Riddikulus, he directed his wordless spell at the magical creature. He found boggarts were relatively routine things to deal with in his line of work as there are plenty of them in tiny closets and locked up rooms.

But there was no change. "Tricky bugger," he mumbled to himself furrowing his brow and repeating the spell. "Riddikulus," he said with a louder, commanding tone. Again, no change. He wondered for a brief moment whether he was going mad before the realness of his actual fear hit him; he started to believe that this was real. He felt naseous, his chest tightening with an anxiety that typically didn't show itself when he was in control of the situation. He had hunched over and vomitted before he looked up and recognized that he was back. He would've said that someone must've slipped something in his drink when he noticed that everyone else was acting oddly. He cleaned himself and took a couple of deep breaths to focus himself and stood up carefully to see whether he could still walk, taking care to not to slip on the puddle before him.

He would've left had he not felt the least bit of chivalry/social responsibility upon noticing the lone female up on stage, half naked and trembling. Being unhindered by anyone else along his way as people seemed significantly less active right now, he walked onto the stage and crouched down next to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, despite knowing the obvious answer. "Or would you need a hand to sit up?"

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spinrightround
2011-10-20 07:13 pm UTC (link)

Alicia had been so deep into her own fear that she hadn't noticed what had been going on around her. Only when a voice spoke near her did she finally see the people all around, acting strangely, fearfully, eyes carrying pain and haunted looks.

She looked up to the 'gentleman', her hand instinctively checking to see if her mask was still in place, and did not recognize him. Not one of the regulars, then.

"Thank you," she replied, trying to offer a smile that ended up entirely too shaky. "Normally I'd be fine, but these heels are a little on the high side. Good for dancing, not so much for falling and getting up."

She reached up, placing her hand on his shoulder, and allowed him to help her onto her feet.