Il Lupo

#the lupo vibes are strong

[it's so strange trying to attempt to return here.

almost everybody i follow aren't active.]

#[is it safe to look or]

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

And make him prove his whole point was wrong just because she wanted him to? Fiora nodded, she didn’t need that.”No, but you shouldn’t hide so much.” She didn’t believed him, but it didn’t meant he had to stop trying to convince her.

The stripper stayed still, breathing calmly as she let him have a little fun on looking her that close. For someone who had been sitting on that booth for weeks, she doubted that he got anything from her besides her shoes, and she couldn’t deny him that, a chance to think twice before saying no to her invitation. “You seemed much cockier than that with that smirk seconds ago.” Was he actually insecure, or that was all part of his charm? He seemed like the type of guy who walked in anywhere as if he owned it, not the one who has to think if he is good enough. And good enough for a stripper.

She chuckled, shifting to rest a elbow on the table, her index finger curling her hair. “I’m the one who asks you. What would you have me do? Don’t be shy.”

"But I like my corner", he laughed, tapping the table with his finger. "These are the best seats in the house, not in front like everybody believes. The sofa is on a better condition, and I don't walk out blinded by the lights. I can pay more attention to you while you dance if I don't have to fight the lightning to see you".

And he loved watching her. He simply liked to watch her work, her moves far more refined than the other girls. Case and point, the girl on stage, moving like out of a hip hop music video instead of trying to wake the crowd's imagination, like this woman next to him did every time she took the stage. She liked to seduce the minds of those watching her, and that was what Lupo enjoyed the most. If he allowed himself to think with a dirty mind, she must be quite the creative lover in bed, but he wouldn't say that out loud. "Simply stay", he answered her question. "Drink the stuff I buy, answer my questions, the like. The night is still young to come up with a plan for you".

nayagraham-blog

I know I’m “only” 21 but the RP world often makes me feel so incredibly old with all these 14&15 year olds and such. So…how about, reblog if you’re a roleplayer and you’re 20+.

#25 motherfuckers

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

It had been a test, with no actual right or wrong answer. If he was only about talking, he would have traced her hand down his lap, she had already seen that happening before. It was all a matter of sticking to the rules of his game. He wasn’t the easy kind, the one who settles for nothing, which boosted her confidence, even though she still couldn’t quite understand what he wanted with all that.

At least she was rewarded with a smirk, which she responded with another one once she was receiving his full attention. Her hand moved to her own bare knee, resting as she leaned her head lightly to the side, removing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"You have never shown me what you’ve got, it’s quite difficult to decide just like that." A warmer smile followed her words, staring into his eyes. They were a cold blue. Now she could understand why some girls said that seemed like he was hunting down a girl there, and sure they could be intimidating, but not for Fiora. "It’s not fair, don’t you think?"

She was good. Pretty good.

"Would you rather I behave like the rest of the crowd to prove a point?" he stared still, the smirk refusing to fade from his face. He knew his gaze could be considered intimidating by some, but he asn't trying to scare anyone off. It was simply the way he was taught to behave. Don't let people think you're weak for a moment, or something like that. He didn't paid much attention to what his father said most of the time.

He traced her hand with his eyes, up her leg and back to her face. She was calmed, acted calmed, didn't finched at anything. He liked that. Lupo could simply sit here for the rest of the night instead of returning to his apartment like he was planning once her show was over. Tonight looked like something...special. "It is fair, but still, if I force myself to look better or more important than those guys out there, you'll lose interest. What would you have me do? I doubt I'll require just money to make my case, am I wrong?"

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

“Of course they do.” She rolled her eyes with a chuckle to contrast her confidence, which shouldn’t be mistaken by arrogance. Fiora had a mirror, and she worked hard to look like that. “Every woman in the world likes a compliment, even if she had already heard it every night since she started working.”

Fiora winked. One thing she would give to the mysterious costumer: he knew how to make her feel comfortable. Despite her first impression of him, and the way he didn’t even threw a one dollar bill at the stage, he was almost as good when it came to keep a conversation going without awkward pauses.

He was interesting, funny and completely full of himself. Fiora had the feeling that he could do more than just amuse her with his witness, but didn’t raised her hopes that high. She was used to weak men who easily gave in, and he proved to be quite a challenge.

She doubted that he would follow her to a empty with a snap of fingers just like a little puppy.

Her fingers touched his knee, playing with the fabric of his trousers, eyes fixed on his, as an assurance of her words and an attempt to make that conversation less casual. “Maybe, or maybe I’m just seeing if our feelings are mutual. You could be my favourite costumer as far as I know.”

"Compliments might be all the same, but it all depends on who gives them away", he nodded, if only to himself. He wasn't truly the one for flattery and compliments, but knew how to give them, and who deserved them. And this woman --ah, this woman deserved all the compliments he could gather. Wether she liked them or not, that was another story. He wasn't there to bore her with compliments.

Her wink was responded with a smirk and a quick eyebrow raise of amusement. Sure, it was all work. She was paid to act like she was. Yet, somehow, having her in his table because she wanted and not because he paid her to do so placed him on a level higher than any other men inside that place would ever be. He didn't needed to bribe her for her attention, there she was all by herself. He pushed his drink to a side, attention turned completely to the stripper.

The feeling of a hand touching his knee didn't surprised him, yet Lupo thought it was a little too...soon. This was all business to her, anyways. Maybe she was testing him? "You came to my table all by yourself, I think that gives me enough reasons to believe I cold be your favorite" he looked straight at her, blue eyes never missing a single movement.

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

“What are you, the stripper club hero that every girl wants?” She gave half of a laugh, turning to look at the sofa and back to him.

Whatever his name was, he was doing a great job to fill the clichê of the savior guy that some of the youngest girls believed that were going to fall in love with them save them, or at least make their life at least a bit more tolerable.

Fut Fiora new better, but she decided to join him into his little game, even though not all the rules were clear.

She sat by his side, turning her body to completely face him, resting a heel by his calf once she had her legs crossed. “You don’t? I’m supposed to believe you came her for my personality or just feel offended by that?” Despite her playful tone, her words had a little of truth, but her present smile kept that fact well hidden from the new costumer.

“I invited you,” she recorded, running her fingers through a stray lock of hair. “That changes everything, doesn’t it?” Her eyes studied his face, biting the corner of her lower lip. There was something about him, the stripper couldn’t still put a finger on why she had the sudden decision to talk to him, but she didn’t regretted either.

That made him laugh. He was far from being a hero. If he really wanted to, he could have that club closed first hour tomorrow, but he wouldn't do that. Lupo enjoyed that place too much to have it shut down. He didn't fit the hero role, except for the looks. Currently, his only interest was his bank account and trying so this stripper wouldn't turn him into another one in her 'men I'll ignore' list. Once she sat next to him, he smiled to himself taking yet another sip of his drink.

One step at a time, they said. He felt he had reached the whole nine yards by this small thing.

"I don't want to offend you, you do have a great body, but I assume everybody else has told you that in many different ways. I don't want to be another perverted men", he chuckled, shifting a little on his seat to face her. She looked stunning from that distance. He got a glimpse of that cocky, sexy smile she flashes every now and then while she's on stage and he loved it even more. This stripper was much more than what he expected her to be, and he wasn't complaining.

"You inviting me means I've at least made you curious. I'm glad. One of a kind, no?"

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

Fiora looked around, her coworker doing her best to open a split was more than enough to keep curious eyes away from them. She folded her arms under her chest, taking a deep breath as she also leaned closer.

“You think you’re better then them.” A chuckle escaped her lips. It was obvious that looking-wise, he had a huge advantage when compared to… Everyone else in the room.

But he had just declined a few minutes alone with her. Fiora was never the kind of girl who offered propositions like that, she just took them for the extra money. And there were rules. But being denied just like that, for a man that at least said she was the reason he was there, and being expected to find it cute?

“It’s a stripper club.” she raised an eyebrow, hands now resting over her hips. Girls were encouraged to lure, flirt and tease, but this time she didn’t had to fake she was actually enjoying it. “The least you could do for your favourite girl is to expend a little with her, and not just stare at her ass.”

Lupo shook his head, doing his best not to chuckle. He didn't believed he was better than them --he knew he was better than the others. He had the advantage of good looks and charms, and although he didn't had the money Christmas had, he had years of youth the old perverted asshole wished he had. It was a win-win situation. He wasn't there to whore her -or any other girl- out. He enjoyed the show, he didn't mindlessly stared at their asses. However, having his favorite in front of him at that moment had its advantages, some he was sure none of the other men sitting front and starting at another girl who eagerly opened her legs to the crowd.

In all the time he had been visiting the club, Lupo had observed her. This girl was smarter than the rest --she knew where she should tease and who she should flirt with. All of her...targets, so to say, were people with any sort of power, name it money or positions in places of great interest to some. And there she was, hands on her hips, demanding answers from him.

"It's a stripper club. I'm supposed to simply come here and stare at your ass. Which, by the way, I don't do", he shook his head while chuckling, then moved a little to the side, patting the sofa, inviting her to join. "I've seen you decline when others ask for a private moment. Am I going to be one of those you refuse, too?"

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

What?

She had to re-run his words over her mind before realizing what had just come out from his mouth, staring at him in obvious surprise, her quizzed expression not betraying her true feelings towards the situation.

It took a second for Fiora to snap out of how deep his voice was. Whenever she found herself attracted for one of the costumers, she made the effort to imagine them with stupid, girly voices, turning down any chance to keep herself interested into a man who was there for her body. And she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, how couldn’t she? The lights didn’t helped defining if that was just a stubble or an excuse to have a beard. Deep blue eyes, strong jaw line and defined nose. But that didn’t made him special, just prettier than Christmas, for example.

“If you like me so much… “ Her ego was restored, knowing it wasn’t her fault. Maybe he wasn’t confident enough, which would be a shame. Fiora would like to believe he had some money left from drinking that horrible cocktail. “..why you keep hiding instead of asking to join me elsewhere?” And with that, she leaned back, resting both hands over her hips.

Or maybe he just enjoyed being a creep.

The look on her face was simply priceless.

She was both surprised and confused enough to pull a laugh out of his lips, taking back the hold on his drink while she thought of his words. Calmly, he took a sip, placed the drink down, and leaned a little forward. He wasn't sure how she was taking it. She simply kept staring. While she did, Lupo tried to imitate the way her voice sounded on his head --exactly what he expected her to sound and more. Her voice had the right amount of sweetness and strength, and she wasn't shy about asking things straight to the point. He liked that.

He liked her. It would be quite interesting to see what her life was like outside the club and away from the stripping and pole dancing.

Lupo's eyebrow raised a little at her question, and he shook his head. "I'm not hiding", he responded. "I'm right here, with a view clear enough to enjoy your show without having to share a space in front with the nasty looking perverts like that guy over there. I imagine you have lots of petitions to join people somewhere else, I rather just let you do your stripper work instead".

He didn't wanted to sound like a creep. He wasn't going to pay her like one would to a prostitute. It wasn't his style.

[I'm a little worried about whitebirdmask's last post

does anyone know of a way to see if the rper's alright?]

#ooc

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

The first thing Fiora went after her show was a towel, scrubbing of the glitter from her palms and thighs and cleaning the drops of sweat from her forehead and neck.

She counted her money. $80 dollars for a few quick minutes of dancing wasn’t perfect, but good enough. There was just one thing bothering her, and it wasn’t the glitter forever attached to her body or the way the girls eyed her after she was done. No, it was that guy, just seated there, doing absolutely nothing. He had money, he had a drink and the barman would never give even a glass of water without being paid. Wasn’t he pleased by what he saw?

Fiora checked herself on the mirror, fixing her underwear in place. She looked good, better than the other girls, and she also a better dancer. With a little retouch of make up and with a cracked ego, she made her way back to the bar, this time through the other door. The one who led behind all the tables and chairs, and no one would stop her from getting her answer.

It was impossible to take a look from above the booth, forcing her to go straight to the point when leaned on the table, staring him down before moving closer, keeping a reasonable low voice tone despite the loud, boring music. “I’m not good enough for you?”

He wanted to see her, but didn't expected it to happen like that.

It took him by surprise, to have her so close to him and hear her mildly upset tone over anything else. Lupo had his drink held up, and he slowly set it down the table, eyes fixed on hers. Thinking back, three weeks before this moment, he never had the chance to stare at her so closely. Her eyes were brown, with faint bits of a honey-like tint. She had a perfectly shaped face, and her hair framed it flawlessly. Her skin looked soft, well taken care of even with the make-up she had to use to appeal even more to the costumers.

She really was beautiful, how could she even think she wasn't good enough for him? She was good enough and much more, and it would be stupid to even assume she wasn't, but he bit his tongue at this thought and simply waved the thought aside.

"On the contrary", he started, blue eyes fixed on her prying brown lights. "You are the reason why I still come here".

Passion's Killing Floor || au || fioracavazza

As the beat of the music went faster, so did her movements. All the glitter and body creams from the other girls made more easy to slide on the pole, but still made possible to hold her weight with her hands, legs parting on the air as she slid down slowly, and once closer to the floor, placing a feet up over the cold metal while the other leg lowered down. She even received a shy clap for that, barely audible by the music.

Her heels were high, very high even for someone of her height, but she would never discard them, they were almost like a trademark, and somehow helped balancing herself through all those fancy movements some girls on the club still weren’t able to master.

She picked a bill on the floor, smiling she she folded and slipped inside of her own underwear, teasing the men for one last act of kindness before the music, and her time, ended. She acted like the night attraction, but actually there were a line of girls ready to earn their money.

One last turn and once again she was in the air, taking a turn before placing a hand under her legs, opening them in the air as she reached the floor and the music ended, the smile fading with the lights. At least nobody could see her as she picked the last few dollars from the ground before leaving.

His place didn't allowed him to notice the glitter in her body, though he wondered how exactly did poledancing worked. She moved swiftly, flawlessly. It should take her hours of practicing her routine, hell maybe she even had a pole at her house.

He chuckled to himself, lowering his glance for a moment to pay attention to his drink for a mere second. Lupo could hear cheers and clapping from the men in front of the stage and rolled his eyes, already imagining the sort of things they would do to themselves after they returned home. Sad, really sad.

Her finales were always the best, most creative from the rest of the strippers in the club. It always left things to the imagination and, as suggestive as she was, it didn't looked as trashy as some of the other girls. She had class, showed class as well. A strange combination considering she danced to give men -and women sometimes- fantasies they wouldn't be able to complete. Lupo laughed to himself, taking yet another sip of his drink. Once the last faded, he placed his glass on the table and clapped, taking his time to decide if he should stay for another half an hour or go. Sometimes the dancers took walks around the bar. Maybe she would this time.