Are you happy? Are you satisfied? Who: St. John and Raven When: Backdated to 9/5, evening Where: On the road, then downtown What: Bustin' heads and kickin' asses Warnings: Language, violence, mention of sexual situations, general badness b/c Pyro and Mystique
It wasn't that she liked St. John. It really wasn't She could count the number of people she did like on one hand, and he didn't make the cut. No; it was more that he was useful, and a reliable person to help her wreak hellish havoc when she wanted to. Those were things that were important to her.
Which was why, when she wanted to scratch an itch before a job? She walked his way. It was more a game to her than anything else - he liked it when she played with faces, she liked doing it - but it was a useful tool, as well. She liked her lap dogs to be loyal, and helping them to appreciate her talents in all arenas helped that goal along.
That part of the night was over, though. After all, she'd made him come over for a reason, and the perks weren't it. It was for that reason that she found herself in a car, sipping her caramel frappucino from a green straw with her legs parked on the dash as she directed him to their next location. It was a good night.
"Left, dammit, I said left." She said, groaning in frustration. "Did you put your pants on too quick and got your dick caught in your zipper? Cause there's no other reason to be driving like an idiot."