trying on a metaphor
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
taylor price
noise dept.
oozey mess
if i look back, i am lost
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@adela-rosa
((OOC))
I don’t know if it’s happening to anyone else but none of my responses are showing up in the notes. If we’ve had threads going on as of late, you can definitely check my blog under the tag of your character’s first name. It should show up.
He takes a moment to stare at the outcome of his actions. His target is beyond recognizable; a swollen mess of black and purple and blood and gore. Finding the man had not been easy; but he had not given the other a chance to defend, think, or run. He wouldn’t of resorted to excess brutality if the other male had not pulled a gun on him in the process. Now the man lay at his feet at an alley close to the building where Adela’s offices were located, unconscious on the ground, with a broken wrist and nose; and several other fractures. Camden picks up the gun and tucks it into his waistband before he grabs the man by the ankle and drags him into the building. He enters Adela’s office, drags the man in the middle of the room, and lets go of his ankle. “He had a gun,” he informs her evenly, and takes the 9mm Browning from his waistband, emptying the clip and setting it on the table. Coming to Adela’s side, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out an envelope, stained with blood but otherwise undamaged, and hands it to Adela. “He had this on him as well.”
She knew her slave was efficient and would get the job done easily. He was becoming more and more of a reliable asset each day she woke up. Her home was clean, the lawn mowed, food prepared, and even her firm was becoming far more organized. Yes, her purchase of Camden was not a terrible investment. When her office door opened, though, she quickly lifted her head to see the mess of a body being dragged him. A faint smirk played at her lips while she watched him empty the clip from the gun he mentioned and placed it on the table. Taking the gun and snapping it in half without any effort, she dropped the pieces to top of the desk before taking the envelope. Taking it and opening it, she read the letter aloud. “Mission 658: This is a tactful mission to retrieve the case files for Primewater vs. State. Retrieve this file and the reward will be great.” She didn’t continue because she knew this case. “Primewater vs. State was about a serial killer going around and murdering little girls after violently raping them. I won that case for those girls...Primewater had been a cult leader in New York, very much underground.” She said while standing up from her chair before pressing a tiny peck to Camden’s cheek to show her appreciation for his work. Walking over to the man trying to steal her files, she growled while bearing her fangs at the pathetic being on the floor. “He won’t get those files. Do you understand me?”
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“Well, I seem popular today. What can I do for you?”
“You’re popular today, it’s good to know because that usually means you’re worth the company. Care to join me for coffee?”
Excuse you!
“Slow down this is a sidewalk, not a racetrack…”
At the sight of the fallen woman, Adela extended her hand to her in hopes to help her up. “Karma will befall him, mija. Don’t worry about that asshole.”
when they tamed you, when they made you, they took something wild and feral and said: ‘this is how you walk among men, this is how you pass as one: this is how you stand, how you sit, this is how you eat and talk. (do not growl, do not bare your teeth: you are no longer just beast, you are now man as well). 'this is when you bite and when you tear, this is when you purr and sit docile. (you are a pet, a weapon: we forged you into what you are now.) this is how you make them think you are helpless, (bare your throat, not your teeth: tilt your head back. show submission and bide your time). and this is how you tear out their still-beating heart.’ what they did not account for is that when you forge a weapon, when you take something feral and give it the mask of man, you must never forget what you started with.
their blood is on your hands now, and you smile at the moonless sky with blood matted in your hair. (CNS)
Nasty Luck
She didn’t.. quite seem herself. Valerie stood silently. Staring seemingly at nothing, her gaze hollow and watching straight ahead. There were bags under her eyes and her expression was distant.. almost hostile. This had.. well. It had been one hell of a fucking week. She hadn’t quite bothered putting on makeup, and her hair wasn’t it’s often sheen mess of soft tangles. It was a little ratty, deeper red than usual, she hadn’t bothered brushing or trying to do a fucking thing with it. She’d been through hell with Felix. And Beaul.. well. A muscle in her jaw clenched at the thought, fingernails biting into the palms of her hands. Beau was gone. Suddenly, she felt a set of eyes on her and though she didn’t turn, her lips pulled up in a slight snarl of their own accord.
“..What?”
Adela had recognized the intense stare of a woman torn by the male race. It had been a look she had seen on her own face; the one in the mirror she would always smash whenever she passed by. But, as she heard the woman address her, she didn’t flinch, nor did she reach out to put a hand on her shoulder. “I had that look on my own face a thousand times over the past three centuries.” She said, standing right next to the woman and keeping her gaze ahead of her with an expression as steel as ever.
“If you come home with me, I can promise that nothing else will happen for as long as you are within it’s walls. My home is sanctuary for women. It’s an invitation, you can decline, but always remember that it is open to any woman who is need of another woman’s company who won’t sit and cry while eating chocolate ice cream like the male race would expect. No, it’s a place for the strong, the ones who can get past what has happened by fighting back.”
I want to be the girl with the most cake. I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.
There was a soft hum that came from her then, and a smile that spread. “I could just as well pick a ghastly place with how new I am, but I’ve only heard of one bar around here. Or tavern, really. How do you feel about country, Senora?”
“Country? That sounds enjoyable enough. I prefer the company more than what kind of music the place has. As long as I can get a good ale, I’ll be pleasantly happy with it.” Adela usually preferred less refined places when it came to drinking, not wanting to have to deal with the obligation of impressing some hoity-toity, syphilitic wart of a being. “Please, show me the way to the place you’ve heard of?”
Justice. || Erebus & Adela
“Very well,” he conceded, a smile still very much firmly etched into his eyes. “But I do believe this success is of your doing. Nevertheless– this way.”
Gesturing to the left, he began to guide her towards a bar. He would not have wasted expense on such a celebration, and so he sought an elite establishment where they would not be troubled. But still, as they approached, he could barely contain the jubilant seeds of revenge, spreading like wildfire through his mind.
“It is good to have justice,” he told her. “But you will have to forgive me for wishing for more, if I could have it – it would not have been too much to have seen their heads ripped from their bodies.”
All in good time.
“It’s the success of all parties involved on the winning side, not just one single person. But, just to be fair, thank you for the recognition.” Adela could tell the man was just trying to compliment her, which made it all that easier to accept it. She liked being complimented on her successes, not her looks. If someone had complimented her looks first, she would’ve devalued anything they told her there-after.
She could pick up on the blood-thirsty revenge he was planning in his head just by taking in his words beforehand. “Most of my clients believe there could always be more done. I don’t believe in that because I’d much rather have the opponent live a life of humiliation and mental torture than blood spilling, Blood is precious, no matter the source, so to kill them all off would be a waste.” She explained, giving him a faint smile once more while she continued to make it to their destination. Once they arrived, she pulled the door open and stepped right in without waiting for him to come in with her or after her.
“Go ahead and pick what happens next. You are still my client and I like for them to make the decisions to celebrate a win.”
“Not many people seem to keen on the idea, but a drink sounds much better.” With a small nod of her head, she smiled. “Valentina Ramirez.”
“It’s a pleasure, Señora Ramirez. Where shall we drink tonight? It’s your call.” She offered, smiling faintly to the woman.
Among Wolves // Val & Adela
Valerie wasn’t entirely sure what it was she’d expected from the vampire, but it hadn’t quite been that. Red brows rose and the little thief tilted her head slightly, before her lips curved into a grin. Well, this woman was certainly.. interesting. As she offered to pay for Valerie’s drinks, the little fox gave a soft laugh, crossing one leg over the other. “Hm.. Alright.. sold.” She grinned, before leaning forward. Her elbows rested on the table and her blue-green gaze lifted to the woman’s own. She seemed to be curious, trying to figure the woman out. “That man, he wasn’t frightening. But I couldn’t exactly kill him, and I couldn’t exactly let him see me..” She lifted a shoulder in a little shrug, lashes lowering as her index finger drew invisible little circles on the mahogany of the table. “He’s not scary.. but the news that could be spread if he saw any more of me? Or recognized me? If news got back to The Alpha.. well. That’s a man I’m afraid of.”
Ah, so that’s why the young woman was running in here. The Alpha could get news from anywhere and that’s how this one could get into trouble. Waving for the bartender to get the redhead a drink, the Spaniard vampire took a sip of her own. “A man is a man, no matter the title. What needs to be done is to handle the situation without news spreading. I’ve been doing it for over three centuries. If a man wants to chase you for whatever reason, you just need to remember one part of him that will make him fall to his knees with just a flick of your nails against it.” With a wink, she laughed into her glass while keeping her eyes locked on the other. “Adela Rosa, you?”
Among Wolves // Val & Adela
Great. The mother fucker was on her heel. She’d passed by a man not less than roughly five minutes before hand and had nicked his wallet out of his pocket. At first, she’d thought she’d gotten away clean but it hadn’t been long before she realized that someone had started lumbering down the street in her direction. Shouting. Tensing up, Valerie cast a glance behind her, before putting on a burst of speed and beelining toward the nearest door. Knowing damn well that her mark was on her tail. She bolted into the bar, catching the attention of a few who hadn’t been shit-head drunk yet, and closed the door quickly. Careful not to drag anymore attention to herself than necessary, Valerie made her way toward the thicket of customers seated in the main area.
As the door opened behind her, Valerie gave a low curse and pulled out the seat closest to her, lowering herself to sit and finding herself face to face with a vampire. Shit, with an absolutely stunning vampire, the kind of woman that didn’t look like she belonged in this time period. As her mark scowled in the doorway and scanned the area, trying to distinguish her scent from all the others, Valerie tossed the woman a frantic, pleading smile. “Play along?” She mouthed, before beginning to spout out about something that didn’t seem to mean shit. As the man scanned the bar one more time, seeing no one that stood out, she heard him utter a curse and slam the door, tearing off the rest of the way down the street.
Her shoulders relaxed immediately and she pushed that mess of red hair from her face, pausing once more to turn to face the woman, her gaze cautious, as if aware she could possibly be in an entirely different brand of shit.
Right as she was wanting a distraction, it sat down right in front of her in the form of a redheaded woman who seemed to start blabbing on about absolutely nothing. A faint chuckle left the vampire’s lips, causing her to smirk at the entirely random situation. She didn’t speak, not yet, since she felt the other should finish what she was saying. What exactly had her so flustered and pumping with adrenaline at this time of night?
That’s when the sound of the door to the bar slamming open distracted Adela for a split second. Ah, she could see what it was now. She didn’t understand the relation between the two people, but it wasn’t positive. Slowly looking back to the redhead once the door was slammed shut, she nodded at her visibly relaxing. “I’m going to just avoid the ridiculous conversation you started for the obvious. Why were you running from him?” The vampire inquired, still curious as to why she was afraid. People would see the obvious but Adela didn’t believe that any woman should cower in front of a man. There was no need for it. They were all on equal grounds, being what they were, so why act as if one is more dominant than the other?
“I’ll even pay for your drinks as long as you tell me why you are intimidated by a meathead like that.”
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“Unless you’re here to offer to decorate my home, I’m not quite sure what good I can do you.”
“I wouldn’t have offered help to decorate but I can offer a drink.” She said, gesturing to herself loosely. “Adela Rosa, and you?”
Justice. || Erebus & Adela
Months had passed, and still Erebus could barely believe they’d reached the end. It had been a bitter struggle to achieve something that was, to both himself and Adela, outrageously predestined. Still, he’d gone about the correct way of things - at least, superficially - and his patience has been rewarded with a settlement that would have covered more than thrice the expenditure for rebuilding his home. He always did enjoy adding more zeros to his bank balance. Now, he stood with Adela outside the court house, satisfaction practically glowing in his stony eyes. “I believe a celebration is in order, Ms Rosa. Will you join me?”
It was a long fight, the lawyers for the insurance company being rather well-respected in the courthouse...but she had something they didn’t. She had an affinity for winning a case without any sort of influence that would show she knew any of them. She prided herself in her fair judgement, and how strong her dominance can be in a Court of Law. Her mind was set on winning this one, finding it unfair that Erebus was treated in such a manner after following the contract.
The case had been won, though. She fought hard and diligently, so there was a need for a celebration for her client as well as herself.
“Of course, Mr. Richter. You can pick where we celebrate.”
He speaks nothing of how the command reminds him of someone he once knew; or what had happened to the last person who had commanded such things of him. His younger self would of been angered, but he knows better than to think performing minial tasks makes him submissive. This city has sheep and wolves in it, yet only one lion. His hands preferred to either grip the handle of a knife; or a warm throat. The purpose of his hands were blood. They were to be cut and bruised from violent acts, not rub her sore fucking muscles. It is a task he finds distasteful, not because she is a woman or because the task itself is subservient, but because he does not know how. He has endured and inflicted so much violence for so long in his young life, and now, this is what is asked of him? This, above all things? “Standing won’t rob me of my strength.” The words are honest, spoken without even an ounce of sarcasm, though he does have a talent for that as well if a situation calls for it. “I have energy.”
“I am in full understanding. But I cannot be certain my hands can offer such… gentle touch.” It is not exactly what he wants to convey but he speaks evenly; unwaveringly. This is not an attempt to argue or undermine her authority in a city where her word as master is law, this is him trying to communicate something he has not yet told anyone else in the city as genuinely as his nature allows him. He does not know a great deal of her but what he does know is that she is not an unintelligent woman. She has seen his hands. He trusts her to deduce the meaning behind the scars, the marks, on them. If she wants to make the most use of him, this is not the way. Much like the lion he is often compared to by others; he cannot be tamed, only unleashed. She spoke of physical tasks. Hard work. Not this. His skills should be utilized and measured in manual labor. He should be trained and made to fight for blood or sport. But not this.
“As long as you have the energy, then.” She said, leaving his words to what they were. Her eyes stayed on him, though, as he spoke his concerns about giving her a massage. Raising a brow, she stood up slowly since her shoulder did hurt a bit. Adela strode over to him, her heels clicking against the redwood flooring of her office. “No gentle touch? I was the same way for a whole century. It’s hard to Master such a touch when there has been no experience of doing so. I spent more of my life with tight grips, calloused palms and fingertips from training. It isn’t easy, but it can be done. My Sire taught me how, I can teach you the same thing.”
Adela wasted no time when it came to speaking to the man, wanting to get to the point. “Strong hands, scars, hard work; they are signs of struggle. I have many of my own, my personality being one of them. Without these scars, without these kinds of wounds, we cannot be the strengthened beings that we are today.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, the touch gentle but still exuding strength as she squeezed it lightly to show she was comforting him. “We will see a lot of different sides of one another, Camden, do remember this. You will see many that no one sees...and some that many never wish to see. Is that clear?”
