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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2016 13:18:21 GMT -5
It was the same as every day. Sparks flashed for split seconds - flame erupted from lit gas. Cigarette end turning to warm, glowing embers in the flame. The flame dies, leaving a smell of burnt gas and hot metal. Inhale. Exhale. Smoke curls into frigid air, warm and thick. Bare lips pursed gently, releasing the captive smoke with a soft . Eyes the color of fading blue slit back open, dramatic wings of black eyeliner accenting the almond curve, watching smoke curl into the snowing sky. Snowflakes landed in hair, blending in before they melted - strands of stark white hair rustled in the breeze. Pale skin nearly matching the color of the snow somehow melts into shadows, hiding the woman with an easy grace.
She was second-in-charge in these streets, answering only to one man - the leader of the gang. Despite her pretty face and curvy body, this woman was more than a fighter. She was essential to the gang - tracking, hiding, sneaking, fighting. Killing. This woman was called Ice, and none of the gang knew her real name, even the leader. Another drag - another cloud of smoke. Lips quirked into a slight smirk as she tipped her head back, the smoke billowing above her face. Her skin was cold, frozen even - frost laced up her wrists, traced along her pale jaw. She wore nothing but a pair of battered black skinny jeans tucked into thick leather combat boots, a black sports bra as a top. Her ice-white stomach was toned and strong, like the rest of her body - scars laced up her skin, even paler. A knife holster was around her left thigh, holding twin daggers; two handguns, one each strapped to a boot. It was well below freezing, but Ice didn't seem to care. No, she never cared - she was ice itself, a living being born of hatred and malice. A rare species, no longer human - she had abilities. Powers. She could control the ice, the snow, the wind and rain - everything was to her will.
Ice lowered her impossibly blue eyes once more, pushing off the frozen wall and dropping her burnt-out cigarette into the thin snow. She let out a slow, amused laugh and turned to fave the gang leader, a snow white brow quirked. A apathetic smile tweeted her lips, her eyes remaining cold and vividly sharp. "Fancy seeing you here, hmm?" She leaned back against the wall, one ankle crossing over the other, giving an amused smile to her boss.
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Quick info: The gang is dubbed The Secret. They're powerful but anonymous - leaving little, mocking notes behind. If you could play the leader, that'll be great!
Jump on in, please have an 10+ line responce. Thanks!
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 5, 2016 14:18:02 GMT -5
Whoa. I don't usually do guys but this is so wonderfully written that I just can't resist!
Give me a sec to type you up a response))
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2016 14:19:15 GMT -5
Awe bless your soul! That made my day. Take your time, dearie! )
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 5, 2016 14:54:08 GMT -5
He had always loved the smell of smoke. Hot. Gritty. Quite out of place in a bitter, barren winter landscape. So much more harsh than the delicate atmosphere of the city. So much more like him than streets blanketed in a thin layer of snow and the storefronts glistening with multicolored lights. It was almost like a soft call. A warm, gentle greeting, welcoming him to the arms of the one that waited for him. Perhaps that was why he liked her so much. What drew him in to the girl he knew only as Ice.
He was practically her polar opposite. Where she gave off a cold vibe, with her pale whiteness and eerie icelike glow, the gang's leader was all warmth, like a welcoming fire burning in the hearth, lulling you to sleep. Ice was the type to blend in with the winter; had she lain down in the snow, he likely would not have been able to see her at all, aside from the sports bra, jeans, and boots. She was that pale, that soft and pure. He was not at all like that.
The leader of his gang had long since taken on a new name-- Draco. He could no longer remember what his name used to be, he had used this one so long. But this new name suited him quite well. Draco was all smoke and darkness; dark hair, attractively tousled. Deeply tanned skin. His eyes stood out, however. Unlike the rest of him, they were bright, shining in the darkness-- they were a bright, sunny gold, as warm as the embers of a dying flame. His eyes welcomed you in, up until the point where he stabbed you in the back. And unlike Ice, this boy had next to no brawn. He was small. Thin. Another aspect of him that was rather disarming. It was his mind-- his intensely brilliant mind-- that had gotten him to where he was. The brains of his operation.
Without Ice, he would be nothing.
He stood, watching her from behind, until she finished her cigarette and turned with an easy smile on her face. The one that crossed Draco's lips mirrored it, amused and slightly condescending. "A new record," He murmured, his voice soft and sweet as poisoned honey. Gentle, with a sharp sting. He stepped from the shadows of the dark alley he stood within, letting the yellow glow of a streetlight illuminate the curves of his soft, almost boyish face. "It took you almost three seconds longer to notice me tonight." Yes, he had been keeping track. He liked keeping a tally on things. Numbers were a fixed, solid thing. Unchanging and unmoving. He took comfort in them in this world that was always changing and revolving. It was good to know that there would always be something that he could rely on.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2016 15:00:54 GMT -5
what a beautiful reply! Unfortunately, I will have to reply in a bit - I'm driving home right now. Be right back!)
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 5, 2016 15:03:45 GMT -5
Thank you! And that's fine, I'm doing homework rn but I have work in an hour so I probably won't have time to reply to your next rp post until tomorrow anyway ^^' so please, take all the time that you need!))
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2016 16:41:08 GMT -5
"One doesnt have to see to notice," Was all Ice replied with, lighting another cigarette and then shoving the lighting her her pocket. She didn't;t inhale yet; merely held it by her shoulder between two fingers. Her nails glinted black, the fresh coat of nail lacquer shiny in the harsh winter lighting. Her eyes, so pale they were almost white, didn't scan away from Dracos face as she spoke once more. "But i will give you another second. You're improving." The apathy, the sheer emotionless of her seemed to radiate danger, a silent threat. A death threat, one to come true in a half second.
She turned back towards the street, leaning her back against the wall. Down both of her sides was something strange - a single black line, half an inch wide, tattooed from the bottom edge of the bra to her waist. She never told anyone the story behind them, not ever the leader she worked for. With a drag on the cancer stick, she watched as a few men ogled over at her half-bare body. One let out a high cat-call, which was a mistake. Ice let out a billowing breath of nicotine smoke, before flicking a few fingers in the man direction. A sudden gust of frozen wind forced him back into his buddies, who stumbled and fell into a nastily pile of dirty, damp now the snowplow had kicked up the morning. Ice hated being ogled at, even if she wore such clothing - the less clothing, the better the movement.
"I couldn't help but notice that there's a new pet of ours," Ice stated, flicking glowing embers into the snow from the end of her cigarette. A tiny, tiny whisp of steam edged weakly from the sudden heat and cold contrast, before the heat was smothered. What Ice had said was technically true - one of the older members son had recently joined up, and at only sixteen, he followed Ice around with admiration. Even after freezing his hands to a wall, his feet to the ground, and repeatedly buffeting the poor boy with winds compared to hurricanes, the kid was following her around. He wasn't love-struck, simply fascinated by her powers. "Cute kid. Real annoying," Ice snorted before inhaling again on her cigarette, holding it for a moment before letting it unfold like a soul being released from her lungs.
"Also, I secured the invitation." Ice had been assigned to 'beauty duty' for an elaborate heist. A rich businessman was hosting a gala to support his new Head Quarters, and had invited only the most promising of ladies and gentlemen. His H.Q. was also home to a very, very broad selection of exquisite diamonds - worth billions. Ice's job was to doll herself up, distract the businessmen however she could. Knowing this certain man, seduction would have to turn in Ice's favor.
Dipping her hand into her pocket, Ice withdrew a fake ID. "Blaire Fiona, how i love my name." Ice said, her voice droll as she held up the folded invite and ID for Draco to examine. From her past experiences, she already knew they were flawless - but she still let Draco check, simply to ease him mind slightly. "The glorified highschool dance begins at ten, in a few hours. I heard you were coming to, ah..." She raised her hands and one brow, using her fingers to quote her next words sarcastically. "'Approve of my attire.' So, on we go." She turned on her heel, waltzing directly into the dress shop that Draco and pointed her into earlier in the day. She made sure to toss what remained of her cigarette into a gutter, loosing it forever.
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 7, 2016 11:49:32 GMT -5
So sorry I didn't reply yesterday like I said, I was finishing up an essay that I had due today ^^))
Draco He smirked at her response to his comment. "Fair enough. Though you're right-- I am improving." Sneaking up on Ice got easier every time that he did it. Stepping even further from the shadows, he walked over to lean against a lamppost, bathing him in a soft golden light to match his unusual eyes.
Unlike her, the young man was more appropriately dressed for the weather. A crisp dark suit covered his skinny form, matching his appearance of smoke and spark. White shirt. Black suit jacket and pants. Patent leather shoes. At his wrists, gold cuff links completed the ensemble. He wore a tie to match, a striped power tie in two different shades of the same color; one shade was saffron, the other bronze. Close enough. He'd left his tie loose, his collar unbuttoned. With his jacket hanging open, his white shirt untucked, and his slender hands in his pockets, he produced a look that gave off a "buisness casual" vibe rather than the expected "feared gang leader." Whatever. For that night's event, he was posing as a young entrepeneur. Nobody needed to know what his real position was.
With detatched amusement, Draco listened to Ice's story of the young boy. He knew the child well, the son of an old family friend. One of his father's most trusted associates. Back when Draco was still young, and it was his father who ran these streets, it had been he who held Ice's esteemed position. Now that Draco had the reins, however, the man simply did cleanup. Not as high of a rank, but still important.
"What can I say?" Smirking, Draco flicked a snowflake from his shoulder. "The boy is obviously infatuated. He'll learn his lesson eventually." He had no doubt that it would be Ice doing the teaching.
He was pleased to hear that Ice had secured the duo's place at the gala, a process that had certainly taken forever. Hearing of it brought a smile to his lips. "Excellent. Well done," he praised her, knowing that she didn't need it but laying it on thick regardless.
He barely glanced at the fake ID, knowing already that it was flawless. He had ordered it himself, and even had one in his pocket just like it, but with different information and Draco's own image. He had also provided a fake name for himself-- Walter Suaréz. Draco wasn't hispanic, but his tan skin and thick black hair could pass as such.
"Yes, your attire does need approval," he agreed. Blunt. "I happen to have certain expertise in this area. We must be certain that your choice is appropriate." Knowing Ice's usual taste, he was actually rather concerned with this. While he had no issue with crop tops and skinny jeans, the rich, swanky crowd they were dealing with might not exactly approve.
With that, he followed her into the depth of the dark.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2016 15:39:10 GMT -5
"Hello! Welcome to Devionte, how can w-we..." The young man stuttered to a stop, eyes bulging at Ice's cold, harsh, lovely and half bare due to the cropped tank she wore. He briefly glanced over her strong, curvaceous body before Ice crooked a brow at him, impossibly pale blue eyes sharp and harsh, promising death. He immediately snapped his eyes to hers, paling dramatically. "We have your item in stock. If you would please..." He shakily beckoned Ice and Draco into the back, handing the woman a black dress sheath on a hangar. Ice vanished behind a curtain, making eye contact with Draco as the curtain whisked shut. The message was clear: I hate dresses, screw you.
The young man - his name tag read 'Evan' - shifted nervously, nice suit shifting. He said nothing, standing in awkward, frightened silence. There was the faint sound of a zipper, a shuhhsh of velvet velour, and an angry snap from the changing area. "Of ha ha, Draco, so funny." The curtain whisked back, to show an angry Ice. Her anger only sharpened as Evan shifted more, face growing red as he quickly called for his female co-worker, then bustled into the back room awkwardly. Ice rolled her eyes and stepped from the booth.
A hugging veil of soft royal purple clung to her curves, the sweetheart neckline baring her shoulders and shielding her pale arms with sheer fabric, decorated with elaborate beading that hooked around her middle finger delicately. The skirt had an embarrassingly high slit up the side, for any other woman. Ice was comfortable in her body, the slit changed nothing. She was barefoot now, but she huffed quietly as a pair of stiletto heels were placed in front of her by the silent worker. Ice shot a very vivid, intense glare to Draco before stepping into the shoes, crossing her arms over her chest. There was a wide band of sheer fabric around her waist, the same fabric the covered her arms. The two black lines down her sides were covered with glittering embroidery. The only thing that stole away from the beauty was the anger across her face, framed with straight strands of snow white hair.
"I," Ice said with a low malice, aiming a finger at her leader threateningly with sparks in her eyes, "hate you so very, very much right now." The snow queens anger was warranted - Drago knew she hated dresses like this, prefering simple a-line dresses if she must need to wear one. This one - it was so aristocratic. However, she came closer to Draco and gave a tiny, sarcastic bow with a spiteful expression before standing up, letting him examine her appearance.
(It's fine! I totally get it - I just finished up an eight pager myself for my English 201 final. )
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