|
Post by Morgan Bailey on Mar 2, 2009 18:02:04 GMT -6
"Aw baby, come now, you know you'd like to take me for a spin..."
Morgan shook her head at the man that was accosting her, currently. Her bright sleek smile shot at him dangerously, though it wasn't inviting. It was quite the opposite. He stepped back a little as she tipped her chin up at him, leaning against a wall in a confident stance.
"Yeah...I'd suggest that, dickwad..." She said, the words flinging from her mouth in a venomous spat. The guy looked awkward and turned on his heel, having followed her out of the club and was now proceeding to return into it. Probably to try and find some other fresh meat. "Fuckin' perv..." She snarled to no one, crossing her arms loosely as she brought the smoke to her darkened red lips. Her face was a pristine shade of pale, as always if it wasn't summer. She was waiting on summer. She just wanted to stretch her limbs a little. She sighed, a few strands of her long bright blue hair being disturbed by the puff of breath. She sighed, letting the smoke exit through her nose without much thought about how unattractive that might look to some people.
Grinding her teeth she squared her shoulders and adjusted her bra underneath the thick retro silver-furred coat she was wearing. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold to wear vinyl mini-skirts. Her black combats thunked as she walked back up the stairs, showing the Bouncer the small stamp on the top of her right hand. She didn't check to see if he nodded or anything of the sort, just went through the doors and into the main part of the club. She shed her jacket back into coat check and slipped around the crowd and up to the bar, using her fake to buy herself a nice screwdriver. It really pissed her off that being legal was only a year away. So close...yet so far. Not that it really mattered. Her connection was good, thus, so was her fake ID. Slipping the card back into the tiny back pocket of her skirt her green eyes seemed almost electric under the lights, framed neatly by gradated black. Her attention looked for anyone particularly interesting. Anything she...wanted.
|
|
|
Post by Enya Finch on Mar 2, 2009 22:20:05 GMT -6
Her body carried her through the ranks of the crowd, letting her slender form glide through as if she were a leaf on the wind. Red bangs dangled over her dark eyebrows while green eyes stared out beneath their tips. Her eyes were surrounded by a mask of black mascara that clung to her delicate pale skin and along her eyelashes. Lips of red pursed upon her face while a smudge of her lipstick was smeared along her left side, moving along her cheek. Locks of red huddled around her head as they hung, reaching down past her shoulders to stop beneath her breasts. Black sneakers padded against the floor as she moved along, her long black skirt ruffling with her steps. A black blouse hugged her chest and left her arms bare while it ruffled around her stomach and over the hem of her skirt. However, her arms did hold something upon them, that something being black fishnets that went up to the middle of her biceps and were laced around her slender fingers. Long nails were painted red as they wiggled with her fingers and scratched gently the people around she wanted moved.
In this place, if you knew the right people, you could get anything. Luckily for Enya, she did know some of the right people as she had a bottle of Raspberry Burt Smirnoff within her left hand, her nails scratching at the glass as she lifted it to her lips. The liquid drooled from the bottle down her throat, burning on its travel down, causing Enya to shiver in pleasure. Oh how she loved pain. At least psychical pain, it dulled the emotional pain she held within her breasts. Sauntering up to the bar, she took a seat upon a stool and noticed something abnormal, a woman with blue hair. Well, abnormal probably wasn't the word in this place, but it was rather interesting. Tilting her head, she pondered a moment, wondering what she could gain from talking to this girl. Looking around the room, there were some eyes upon the blue haired woman, at least enough for Enya to know what she wanted to do. Pushing from the stool, she moved towards Morgan and as she was within a few steps, Enya rested her crimson nails upon Morgan's back, "Here alone or waiting for the company to arrive at your doorstep?" her voice was almost angelic, if it wasn't for that hint of depression that lingered within her melody.
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bailey on Mar 2, 2009 22:46:58 GMT -6
Her attention was diverted to the side, her gaze resting upon a wild flash of red hair framing a perfectly beautiful face. Tipping her head in interest, she smirked. That familiar mischievous smirk. She could feel the girl's nails gently through the back of her thin material corset, the boning clinging to her thin frame. Her own long black nails reached behind the girl as well, mimicking her position. Every second she analyzed the girl, the more her interest grew. And the more her interest grew, the more she wanted to know everything about her. And the more she wanted something...the more she would work to get it.
Her sides heaved as she took a heavy breath in, her eyes giving one last sweet over the club to find a few random guys watching.
"Mmm...I'm here more on a whim than anything. I just enjoy the atmosphere..." She said, playing hard to get a little. She wasn't even sure what the girl wanted with her, but she was sure going to find out. Her body was a lithe statue against the bar, her face to the crowd in a very picturesque expression of subtle interest. She wasn't giving away too much yet.
|
|
|
Post by Enya Finch on Mar 3, 2009 21:36:07 GMT -6
Feeling Morgan's own nails upon her back, Enya's interest grew, curious about the woman even more so now. Though her facial expression pretty much stayed the same, beside the gentle twinkle in her eye. It was rare for Enya to smile, laugh, or much of any emotion besides looking all depressed, like someone had put a kitten into a microwave and nuked the thing into a little blood bomb. Depressing? Indeed. Staying silent, Enya could feel the eyes of the few guys around, that and see them out of the corner of her own. How she loved to make other people envy her, it was a nice change to her envying them! The bastards didn't understand what it was like being at the bottom of the barrel. Oh how Enya wanted to just be happy, have someone who was rich and could give her everything she ever desired! Maybe then happiness would stay, but Enya didn't think happiness would ever stay. It was a temporary dulling of the pain that would surely return. For the time though, she left her pain aside, just focusing on the smurf before her.
Listening to the delicate voice of Morgan, Enya let the right side of her lip curl every so slightly for just a second before falling flat again, "Ah, I'd prefer a more dreadful atmosphere, personally, but they don't have a Gothic club within this bloody crap fest," she mused in her wonderfully depressed tone, "but at least some of the company is," Enya paused a moment before speaking the last word, "enjoyable." That word felt sour upon Enya's lips, as if she had to force it out of her throat and just left that awful taste in her mouth. But it was true, Morgan was quite beautiful in a wonderfully dreadful way, something Enya had to admire. Like a painting of a man sprawled out in a dark alley, his blood pooling beside him and the killer standing over the body, the knife within hand and dripping the victim's blood. The thought of that was...miraculous.
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bailey on Mar 5, 2009 2:10:48 GMT -6
A little hiss of a laugh pushed gently against her teeth, an action that most people she was talking about could never figure out the intent of. Morgan smiled like a poised cat, her sharp eyes staring out into the crowd as Enya spoke. She let her physical contact fall with the girl, throwing her a sidelong glance as she finished speaking.
"Enjoyable...perhaps. In different ways..." She said with a mischievous little snicker, folding her lithe arms over her chest dominantly. She was like an alpha female in a pack of wolves, the way she held her body. Primed. Ready. But relaxed and not really expecting anything. It was if she were always this way. And she was. Wild. Uncontrollably.
"You'd think since they have everything else they would have one. Though the industrial nights here aren't bad at all. Draws out the...interesting crowd" She said with a delightful smile, considering a few recent memories that hadn't been hazed out by excessive alcohol consumption.
|
|
|
Post by Enya Finch on Mar 6, 2009 16:06:38 GMT -6
The way the world pulled, twisted, turned, it all seemed to give everyone inside the opportunities for pain, discomfort and on occasion, a moment to relax. Within this moment, it was time for Enya to do just that as the world folded over on itself, canceling the never ending pain, or perhaps dulling your senses to its sting. Eyes stared into the dark abyss that could cause her demise, but Enya always was pleased to tease the fates. Caressing her nails along Morgan's delicate pale flesh, Enya's lips curled into a dark smile as she sat close, very close, to her new target. Morgan was a means to an end, a temporary experiment of the mind, body, and soul and if it were couture, Enya would turn this club into a sex palace in this very moment. Take the one thing every man and woman was jealous of, have it against her naked body and tell everyone, flaunt the fact that Morgan was in her bed, not theirs. Listening to Morgan's words, Enya's lips let out a gentle laugh as the dark nature began to chuckle off her lips like venom, "It's always enjoyable to hold the forbidden fruit that everyone else wishes they could touch. Hold it on high and taste the succulent juices that rest within it's delicate flesh," Enya's words spoke so...poetically. Fingernails trailed down Morgan's neck, teasing the flesh as Enya's eyes watched Morgan carefully.
Morgan speaking about the industry nights they have here, Enya gave a gentle nod, "It shows the mutilated side of this school. The side it seems to try and hide behind dusty books and half empty shelves." Her tongue became her weapon as Enya's normal depressed manner had vanished for the time being, it was like a new woman sat there before Morgan, one that would gladly tease any and all around. This was how Enya played when she hold the cards, when she was the one others would be jealous of. Never did she enjoy being jealous of others, but she could never help it. Wanting what they had was just something that came so naturally to her, but when the hands were switched, she gloated it. Every opportunity she had with those cards where the opportunities she would forever remember. Enya was a girl of the simple pleasures of being pleased...
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bailey on Mar 10, 2009 17:39:32 GMT -6
Morgan's eyes darkened as her neck twisted a bit to look at Enya.
"We're all mutilated here...especially inside. Fuck...even I'm hiding something. I'm sure you are. Nobody's who they REALLY are...thus...we don't ever really know what we want. What they want even...nothing is as expected..." She said dangerously, blinking slowly and watching the crowd pile closer to the bar where they stood. Enya was making quite a clear point about which Sin she chose to follow. The fruit comment...well. Pretty random. It had caught Morgan off-guard. Bringing a slender index finger to her lips, she bit the tip of it thoughtfully. Enya was clearly an Envious child. A sickly smirk twisted on her face, realizing it was up to her now whether she chose to give the girl whatever it was she wanted or to play with her like a mouse on a string to a feline. She flipped her body around so her elbows could rest on the bar, her spine cracking a little in a stretch, her leather corset not wanting to bend exactly to her body's needs. She sighed, flashing a foxy smile to the redhead. This could be...fun.
|
|
|
Post by Enya Finch on Mar 10, 2009 20:37:43 GMT -6
Listening to Morgan, Enya was rather pleased with this girl, the way she was attracting more attention as people gathered around. Senses were teased as Enya rested near this woman who was so sublime in her actions and words. Part of Enya was beginning to jealous how this woman worked, but Enya knew that wouldn't be something she could achieve. At least not alone, that is. "I suppose that's true. After all, why would we make vaults? I doubt it's to hide some morning dew," she retorted with a smirk. Enya was beginning to fear the start of a game, but she couldn't just walk away, she had to play with, at least then she could still have something. Holding this girl's attention for more then ten seconds was something others would envy, that was no doubt to Enya. "But sadly, some of us wear our secrets upon our sleeves," she stated as she held up her arm. Pulling down the fishnets allowed the better visual of the many scars that riddled upon her arm. Clearly she enjoyed the self mutilation since some of them appeared to be rather fresh. Rolling the fishnet back up, Enya just smiled as if nothing was really wrong, after all, to her, nothing was. The temporary pain she gave herself dulled the pain that she bore inside. "Secrets keep the world interesting," she finished as she moved a bit closer to Morgan, "What about the exotic beauty, what little secret does she hold hidden within her vault?"
|
|
|
Post by Morgan Bailey on Mar 23, 2009 17:29:53 GMT -6
Morgan watched Enya slowly as she rolled her fishnets down to reveal lines of scars, some old and some rather new. She sighed without a sound, her gaze scanning over them. So she was a cutter. She liked self-mutilation. That was always...interesting. Morgan didn't really know what she thought of that. She'd been through some especially shitty times in her life but she'd never self-mutilated. She just got angry. Very angry.
Perhaps, in light of that, slicing your arm up was the safer of the two reactions.
"Then they're not really secrets are they..." She said with a half-smile, wondering at the girl's honesty with her. She didn't seem like the type to come right out and reveal herself, at least, from what she knew about cutters. They liked to be submersed in their own little world, alone with their hate. She wondered more what had drawn out the little redhead. Morgan snorted as a bulky guy squished himself in beside her where moments ago another man was standing gawking at the two females. Morgan quirked a thin brow at the guy who only stared stupidly back down at her. She figured it was probably the vinyl.
"Hi...take a fuckin picture why don'tcha?!" She snapped in annoyance as the guy turned his attention automatically to ordering a drink. She herself considered Enya's last question. The girl was getting curious.
"I have a lot of secrets. None which I have actually talked about since I got here, and I don't intend to break that now." She said stubbornly, her face turning rocky as the images flashed through her memory. "All you need to know about me is that I'm a criminal" She said, looking out across the dancefloor. That was all most knew about her.
|
|