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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 24, 2017 19:48:32 GMT -5
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 24, 2017 20:02:39 GMT -5
Hi! Want me to start it off or do you want time to work on your charrie?))
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 24, 2017 20:08:50 GMT -5
(You can start whenever, but just to make sure, we're once again keeping this modern? Just asking for clarification cause we didn't specify)
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 24, 2017 20:16:02 GMT -5
((Yeah, modern is prolly best :’3))
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 24, 2017 20:19:54 GMT -5
Mercedes was generally a man of very few words. As he stood at the bar, looking for someone to take him home for the night, he let his eyes and body language do the talking. I’m here. I’m pretty. Notice me.
Most of the time it worked.
He sipped at his whiskey, brushing back dark hair from very pale blue eyes, the fluorescent lighting above not doing much to help their strange colour. The club was warm from the amount of gyrating bodies on the dance floor; the lights; and, of course, the heating itself wasn’t helping- but Mercy didn’t terribly mind. Temperature didn’t bother him.
He’d initially been chasing down one of his targets, but when they’d made an escape he’d been too annoyed and exasperated to give chase for the time being. A drink had been in order- and other things, if he could just find someone in the damned sea of people.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 24, 2017 20:19:59 GMT -5
(Mk, my charrie's "codename" is going to be Crosshairs, with the real name of Zechariah, but I'm still deciding on a species, but that can be decided within the next little count of posts :3 I'll reply soon when I can after you)
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 24, 2017 20:20:35 GMT -5
((Omg I love that codename it’s awesome))
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 24, 2017 21:22:07 GMT -5
Crosshairs needed a drink. Or maybe two or ten. The thought made his lips curl in a smile. He deserved a little reward.
Anyway, he found his way to some random club, he thought about his latest target, or kill for that matter. Humming softly, he ran a hand through his messy ginger hair as he entered the club, looking around and at the bodies rubbing and dancing against each other. His pet rabbit in heat had more class than they did. He snorted before continuing on his way, finding himself standing at the bar, which Cross always managed to find when he went somewhere. "Whiskey," he spoke to the bartender, voice quiet and gruff, sporting what was probably a southern accent as he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the noise. Scratching the light stubble on his chin, his hazel eyes shifted over to the man on his left, looking him over with no shame until his whiskey was brought over. If he'd been just a bit more horny, Cross would've tried his luck with asking the stranger to f*ck him, though he wouldn't mind if he ended up being the top. Either position was fine. He chuckled gently before taking a sip of his whiskey, once again turning his attention to the people on the dance floor.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 1:36:16 GMT -5
Ah. Luck was throwing him an almost metaphorical bone.
Mercy glanced at the stranger from the corner of his eyes, already feeling a little heat just by noticing the man looking him over. So he leaned back on the bar, and turned his head to properly look at him, tilting his head to the side.
‘You don’t seem like the clubbing type.’ He drawled, studying him with an almost lazy... or perhaps just a laid back expression. ‘You also don’t look local.’
Of course, neither did Mercy. He stuck out like a sore thumb, What with the small scars nicking his lips, his eyebrow, and even the nasty one that cut across his right cheek and down his neck, partially hidden by hair and the turn of his head- his dark clothing, a tshirt that clung to his well sculpted body- he stood out and simultaneously blended in just a little too much. He almost wanted to beg the guy to take him home- he really could not be bothered to go to his own tonight.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 4:26:56 GMT -5
Crosshairs blinked slowly. The stranger was talking to him. Not that that was bad. It could possibly prove to be very, very good. Still looking at the crowd, he spoke again, his southern drawl more noticeable "Neither do you on that second account." It took a bit before his hazel gaze turned to the other man again, taking in the view casually, showing no trace of obvious desire or such like any other tactless person would have, mostly cause he hadn't exactly spent much time around the guy yet, so they weren't exactly buddies.
"How are you lookin' to spend the rest of the night?" Cross turned his attention back to the dance floor again as he asked a question that basically had an offer in it. Yeah, he got just that little bit more horny, so why not. Finishing off his whiskey sooner rather than later, he asked for a refill on his glass, turning slightly and reaching back a decently-muscled arm to set his glass down, gaze never leaving the crowd. The stranger was right that he wasn't local. His tall, ginger-haired self didn't look like the majority, but he didn't exactly care.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 12:14:41 GMT -5
Mercy eyed him up, sipping at his whiskey, before also turning his gaze to the crowd. The guy was trying to be subtle.
‘Preferably in someone else’s bed.’ He half sighed, sipping again at his drink. Mercy really did not want to go home to his partner tonight. The guy was abusive, abrasive, took mercy for granted, and had no idea what Mercy was capable of. It pissed the assassin off to no end.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 12:15:08 GMT -5
((Hello!!!! Sorry for absence I’ve been paintballing all day 😂))
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 12:29:43 GMT -5
Cross felt himself smile at the response. "I wouldn't mind sharin' mine at all," he said, taking his glass back once it was refilled "I'm quite kind to men who have bugs in their bed." He could just... tell by the other man's manner of response that someone was keeping from returning to his own bed, not that that hindered Crosshairs' desire to spend the night with him. He snickered quietly at the thought before taking a sip of his whiskey.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 12:30:13 GMT -5
((Hello!!!! Sorry for absence I’ve been paintballing all day 😂)) (It's quite alright! I assume you had fun?) |
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 12:51:42 GMT -5
((Omg it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. I went after the Marshall at the end and shot at him, all I heard was ‘AGH’ 😂 I shot him three times then he found me and came running at me I was shitting bricks, managed to hide then the other Marshall found me and shot me three bloody times in the same spot on my arse cheek I can’t sit down properly it f*cking kills 😂😂 tbh as a first timer I probably shouldn’t have went after the guys running the place, but they joined in at the end and when isn’t it fun to hit someone in charge when they open themselves to it😂😂))
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 12:54:39 GMT -5
Mercy studied him, before lowering his lashes slightly, a tiny smile on his lips. ‘How kind.’ He half purred, half teased. He moved in, holding out his hand.
‘Mercy.’ He introduced himself. His codename was, thankfully, completely able to pass off as just a normal name- just in case this man was someone the assassin needed to avoid. Sometimes mercy ended up in the bed of his victims without even realising it, or in the bed of someone after him. Either way, mercy was always the one leaving in the morning.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 13:03:27 GMT -5
(Well, that sucks that you got shot in the behind, and I hope you don't have to suffer for too long x3 But I'm glad you had fun anyway! Think you'll try it again?)
Crosshairs still hadn't given the man any attention since his first whiskey glass, but at least he did acknowledge his speech. However, he raised a brow and shifted his hazel eyes over to the guy at the name given, not because of what it was but because it was given at all. It was very likely they wouldn't spend more than the night together, so why bother. Still, he found himself responding "Cross." Looking back to the dance floor yet again, he continued "I just got here. Only came for the whiskey, but I'm ready to leave when you are." Now he was just being blunt about what he wanted, a habit of his when it came to sex, or anything really.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 13:14:21 GMT -5
Cross. Mercy thought it sounded familiar, but he brushed it off. His gut was already aching, and it got worse at the bluntness. ‘I’ll finish my glass.’ He murmured, stepping back and downing it as quickly as he could. He set it down on the bar, then grabbed his leather jacket, tugging it on, followed by swinging his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘Did you walk or drive?’
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 13:21:19 GMT -5
"I walked," Crosshairs said simply, finishing his own glass "I don't live too far. An apartment not seven minutes away." It of course was a temporary home, cause his work required him to move occasionally. Setting his glass down, he stood up, easily surpassing most of the people in the club in terms of height. Tugging his own coat further around himself, he simply walked back the way he came, pace calm as he left the club, assuming Mercy was to follow.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 13:28:40 GMT -5
Mercy bit his lip, not wanting to leave his bike, but figured he’d just walk- and besides, cross had already left. He hurried after him, wincing at the harsh bite of the cold outside.
He fell in beside cross, tucking his hands into his pockets and warily studying the area, his eyes reflecting the street lamps a little like catseyes. He decided not to press why the guy was living here, since he clearly wasn’t local.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 13:39:44 GMT -5
Cross only glanced when Mercy caught up to him, for a brief moment before looking ahead. It took the seven minutes to reach his apartment, walking up some stairs to the second level of housing and to an apartment all the way on the end of the right. Taking out a key, he simply unlocked it before walking inside. "Close and lock the door behind you please." The apartment was decent-sized, but didn't have too much. Just basic furniture, a tv and kitchen necessities. However, one of the rooms, which had an open door, but was blocked off by a little fence-like thing, looked like it was a little living space for a pet. Not a second passed before something, more like three somethings, hopped up to the fence in the doorway. Three little Lionhead rabbits, who curiously examined the two men as they passed.
Though he didn't bother explaining them to Mercy, cause the guy would only be spending the night there. As he continued to where his bedroom was, he said "Set your stuff down wherever you wish."
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 13:56:45 GMT -5
Mercy did as he was told, locking the door as he glanced around the sparse apartment. Looked almost as bare as his own. He curiously watched the rabbits, hesitantly approaching and crouching down to look at them, a silent warmth- small but there- entering his eyes.
He poked a finger through the fence to touch one of the rabbits soft fur, then stood and set his stuff down on a chair, removing his jacket as well.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 14:16:39 GMT -5
Cross had set his coat down somewhere in his bedroom, then went to stand in the doorway and watch Mercy briefly examine his rabbits, the one that got touched being quite tame and just letting him feel his little gray mane. "Kipper likes you," was all he said. He didn't really see the reason to interact too much in sense of talking with the other individual though, as they were only in the same vicinity for one thing only, and it wasn't the Lionhead rabbits. As he briefly studied Mercy, Cross took notice of the scar cutting across his face, but didn't comment. He'd seen much worse, and also had scars of his own. And even with the scar, Cross still desired to bring the other man over to his bed.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 14:39:46 GMT -5
Mercy hummed. Anything liking him was a huge first. He drifted his way over to cross, loosening up his shirt slightly about the collar to reveal the scar stretched beyond his neck, too.
‘Where do you want me?’ He lowly murmured, studying cross with a slightly tilted head.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 14:51:45 GMT -5
Cross was silent for a moment, hazel eyes studying the length of the scar, but there wasn't even a slight glint of disgust in his gaze. It remained neutral as he spoke, moving aside to allow Mercy into his bedroom. "Bed's right there." He was tempted to reach out and touch the other already, but didn't just yet. "You goin' to want bottom or top?" he questioned bluntly, casually. He asked just to get it out of the way and not end up causing problems once they reached that point. Cross flip-flopped, so he didn't really care, thus the blunt question.
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 14:59:08 GMT -5
Mercy rolled his shoulders in a shrug, clearly not bothered either. ‘Top?’ He asked, trying his luck. It had been a while anyways. He moved back into the room, continuing to undo his shirt as he went, before sitting on the edge of the bed, glancing over at Cross. ‘C’mere.’ He murmured, antsy to just get started already.
((Pm?))
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 15:00:26 GMT -5
(Yeah, I'll reply there x3)
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Post by Smokey Feather on Nov 25, 2017 15:01:10 GMT -5
(The same pm though or a new one?)
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 25, 2017 15:11:17 GMT -5
((A new one might be better so we can keep it all separated x))
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Post by Bloodrose on Nov 26, 2017 11:28:21 GMT -5
Mercy hummed again, heart hammering slightly as cross took him up on the offer. That was new.
He watched as he left, before standing and moving off to get showered, closing his eyes as the warm water ran down his back. He vaguely wondered if he’d run into the guy on any of his ‘tasks’. He finished in the shower and shook out his hair like a wet dog, before wrapping a towel around his waist. He smoothed his hands through his hair and left the bathroom, blinking water from his eyelashes. At least the sparse apartment made more sense now, what with mercy knowing cross’s profession. The guy probably needed to move around about as much as mercy did.
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