#blckfckinmsk

[theglowsociety]

[moxxietude]

"stop glaring, love, i know you want me"

flirting/suggestive dialogue prompts

Sure, sometimes he was being a brat. But other times it was because he seriously detested someone. Which method Moxxie was doing now was anyone's guess.

"What makes you think that? Have I given any indication that I 'want' you?" he asked, air quoting.

This was an overlord. Organized crime. Everything Moxxie knew to be wary of.

[vitalphenomena]

@blckfckinmsk // x

SHE KIND OF LIKES THE ATTENTION SHE RECEIVES WHEN SHE CRAWLS INTO ROMAN'S LAP. It's certainly not positive attention, to be sure—skeptical looks, dark amusement, even glares. Otherwise, Roman's associates—they surely can't be called friends—completely ignore her presence.

Roman doesn't, and that's what matters.

Is she staying tonight? At this point, one might bother why she even comes here if she doesn't have that in mind.

Still, she hasn't packed a bag—this gives her the excuse to play coy.

"I don't know, Roman. Am I?" To stroke his ego, before anything else, she rephrases: "Can I?"

[bratxprincexlestat]

@blckfckinmsk ;; continued

"Conquest, mon cher? How very Roman of you,your name suits you too well. Escape may not be an option in Gotham, but domination? That is a melody I can play along to. You speak of marks upon the city as if it were marble, but tell me are you carving your empire, or simply leaving scratches in the dark?" He gestured to a young man with his glass of wine as if to say that someone had already whispered the name of his approaching...guest. He was walked over with such purpose they felt like warning him that Roman Sionis never came unarmed.

Not that guns or knives worried him..

"Let us speak true, do not pretend you are content with ‘in time.’ You want the sky now, wings or no wings.Go on, admit it." he challenged ever the provocateur and even nudged Roman's foot with his own as if it would coax him to admit it father. Who was he? Some young man wanting to sit himself at a fancy table and drink someone else's top shelf drinks? There was something dark cloaking him..

"How fascinating that in a city of rats you do not settle for survival,no, it must be domination. Not many rise above settling for mediocrity, is that why you came to philosophize? Seeking a kindred spirit to muse to?" Lestat was certainly a man that cloaked himself in grandeur...Roman might regret the night he made himself intriguing to the vampire.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Continued from here X

"Because I’ve dealt with men like you before—drunk on power, convinced the world ought to kneel. And I stopped them, too." He circles Roman slowly, hands clasped behind his back like he’s back on a warship deck. "You mistake fear for respect. Control for order. But what you’ve built here? It’s nothing more than a tantrum with guns and masks."

@blckfckinmsk

[twomindedsubject]

~. Continued from here ~ @blckfckinmsk

~. Their head was pounding - bad. It was like the circuitry in his divided brain had gone on full blackout mode. Two-Face had half a mind of shooting the masked man for talking to them that way - but Harvey managed to calm down the other inside just t w o seconds that had a possibility of occuring.- "...Then w h y...w h y...would you claim territory over goddamn 22 Gemini Street -," The growl-like hiss left his dry throat - emphasizing on the struggle within. " - and pretend like we weren't going to notice? H u h ?" - Two-face had been the first to notice, which was rather unusual for his otherwise brute-like side of their brain. But the only thing the both of them could agree on right now was that they couldn't afford fucking up his otherwise a l r i g h t relationship with the Black Mask. "...But you - you are r i g h t. We acted...rash. What do we owe you? Name your price. Anythin'."

[cornstarrr]

「 SLIP 」 : for senders hand to slip between the receivers legs. (harvey. prob at the club or something)

"---H a h . F-Fuck, Roman."

Harvey and Two-Face could never quite agree on how to say the other's name when all the blood rushed down to their groin. While Harvey wanted to call for him longingly, Two-Face needed Sionis to know how fucking excited they made him.

Especially in a public place like this.

This time, however, Harvey won the verbal disagreement on their lover's name -- but Two-Face sealed the deal by grabbing an equally as greedy grasp on Roman's curved ass as they touched his now quite prominent bulge in his dual-colored trousers. The other gloved hand pinched Roman's jaw between his two fingers and a thumb -- not sure if they were stopping them or drawing them in closer.

"--- You're such a tease. Don't make us finish what you started."

The bass of the music playing from downstairs made their shared heart pulse in the same rhythm -- spurred on by the euphoria of their bodies' intimacy, just as the pulsating beats from below.

Surely, no one would be able to hear them through the noise -- but that didn't mean somebody couldn't see them tearing each other apart in their corner of the club.

"---- Do you really want to do this here...?"

[lenfentisms]

@blckfckinmsk <3

Do you know how much interest you accumulate when you have not touched your coffers since 1789? A lot. Do you know how much you don't care about wealth when you are a depressed, cynical vampire that got brought back by accident because your ashes were mistaken for someone else's? Not a lot. And by God, Nicolas was pissed off to be alive again and it would be a short life, as soon as he found who brought him back, as it was ancient blood that spilled on his ashes, and enacted his revenge, he'd walk into the pyre again.

Oh but he would not just find who did this to him, no, Lestat had to suffer too, and Armand and who ever else, because life was shit and a overfilled cesspit tank stains all ankles in the puddle. Lestat could play rockstar, Nicolas was an artist. It did not take long for him to find work as a concert violinist, did he use his vampiric gifts? Maybe. Maybe he didn't.

"Are you a dancer too?" Nicolas asked having drank from someone quite heavily riddled with party favours when someone nudged him and whispered in his ear that this had been the club owner. "Oh...sorry. The heels..." Every other boy girl and other that wore platform heels had taken a twirl on those poles. Were they rowdy? No. Not when some Italo-American mafioso types over there were harassing the girls, Nicolas had hired every dancer for a private dance...at the same time...just to stand there like an array of models being...oggled? Admired?

Nicolas had been questioning them on classical music and tipping who ever answered first.

"Clementi or Salieri if you could only throw one into a wood chipper and make their accomplishments vanish...who do you pick"

Oh, he plays Mozart well don't you know.

"And you have been in the orchestra for five years and still not even made second chair, David. Too limp-wristed" Back in his day that was a heck of an insult. "Which is funny because he is married to a woman and I've pleasured his brother" And at this point what was somewhat a rivarly would almost escalate into a fight....almost as security would see that David grabbed the ice pick and throw him out.

"Muah bye!" Nicolas blew his rival a kiss with a middle finger. "I'm sorry precious, I'll play nice. Have some sparkling wine with us"