A rock and a hard place it was indeed. He looked at James with suspicious narrowed eyes, trying to gauge if his elder really would order him to do something so repulsive as kill a person. Especially as then he would have to be this individual for several days, have pieces of them in his mind. The sun and enjoying some drinks other than blood was a small consolation for such things. Theo managed to shake his head, though with James’ back turned it wasn’t any good as an answer.
“I don’t suppose that I care who they are.” He grouched, “You wouldn’t force me would you?” Instinct and the ravenous hunger wished that he would, if only so that Theo could then say he was forced, be free of fault and therefore able to enjoy a meal without the weight of the guilt. He’d have no physical way of resisting. Of course that same devouring emptiness in him knew that the moment that James returned, that Theo wouldn’t have any of his sanity or common sense at all, he wouldn’t need any invitation or order. James would have to stop him from following his victims into death.
Theo hobbled a short way from the sofa, intent to go upstairs further away from the nightmares happening below their feet. He opened his mouth, was going to ask James to bring dinner for Baribus as well, and then closed it again. He couldn’t ask his friend to kill people. Couldn’t request them like a menu at a society dinner! Theo hung his head and sighed. “I’ll be upstairs. I really would rather that you just…just let me be for a while. It’s been a trying enough night as it is and you haven’t much time left for hunting anyway.”
James gives the man a sad smile. " A good captain sees to what's best for his crew, sometimes in spite of their wishes. " He shakes his head. " Though I do not believe it will come to that. " He says no more on that issue, because it did not need to be said. Both of them knew if he brought someone to Theodore, he would feed on them.
" I am aware dawn is swiftly approaching. Won't be gone long. If I-- am unable to find a suitable meal within the allotted window I'll admit my defeat and retreat with my proverbial tail between my legs. " He waves him off dismissively. The hunger tended to make him reckless. Reckless enough to go out so early in the morning.
Once more it wasn't quite James in that thought process. He left Theo be then, Lestat preoccupied with his gleeful torment. James left the manor in search of his next victim. There was no other way to put that. Cut and dry. That voracious appetite was going to get him in trouble some day.
“His surname is Thatch.” Theo helpfully supplied, “If that is any easier.” He blinked and looked away, wondering if Baribus would get to live through the night or if the ‘head’ of this dysfunctional family would get carried away. Despite the open gnawing in his stomach and the burning of his throat, Theo thought that he was doing a rather fine job of ignoring his hunger. Focusing on the dull stinging of the dagger wound certainly helped with that. Without thinking Theo reached his hand down to press against the open wound to make the pain sharper and keep his mind clear of the desire to hunt. On a night like this, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop, he was too hungry, too injured to stop at just one person. And the very thought of killing anyone made his stomach turn.
At least until James began describing how he tasted. Then he too started salivating and had to use his sleeve to wipe away a bit of drool. Should he be offended or flattered that just the memory of how he tastes is worth such a reaction? Theo sat up straight and tried to distance himself from thoughts of food and it wasn’t working. He was too drained, too hungry, too much in need of the precious blood, would need even more of it because of the gaping hole through his leg and the cracks Theo were certain existed in his jaw.
He swallowed multiple times, “You can go.” He said and those words were almost physically painful. “I have no appetite.” Perhaps the most brash lie he’d ever told. Nor was Theo fond of being effectively alone in the house knowing what was happening on the lower floors. “I’ll go find something to read.” Trying to put words to action the fledgling used the arm of the chair to help lift himself to standing. The left leg, the one that had been stabbed shook and Theo kept most of the weight on his right. He tried to smile for James and assure him that he’d be fine, but looking so much like a corpse, ashen grey under his deeply tanned skin, and dull in the eyes, it wasn’t a good affect.
Taking the worse for wear Fledgling with him would probably be a bad idea anyway, considering his leg would slow them both down. But that did not mean he was going to let his fledgling starve. Oh no. He knew better than that. Giving his Lieutenant one of those sour little sarcastic smiles of his. The same kind he gave Sparrow. The same kind he gives when he does not believe something. " Oh please, with those wounds? I don't believe that for a minute. If I'm this hungry you must be absolutely famished. "
But he's already up. Already putting his shirt back on. Seeing as Theodore never actually needed it. " If you do not choose, then I will choose for you." he utters with his back turned to his former Lieutenant.
"I will ensure their crimes are worthy of exsanguination If that will help. But I am not above ordering you to feed, if only to ensure you heal. ."
He leaned back against James’ legs while sitting on the floor. The injured leg was partially bent as it wouldn’t straighten all the way. The bandage was just as clean and dry as when it had been applied so Theo carefully reached down and untied it to hand the shirt back. “His name is Baribus.” Theo said in the same rasping tired voice. He coughed and tried to clear away some of the burning in his throat, at least the conversation provided some distraction from how hungry he was fast becoming. There were still a few hours before they’d be trapped in the house and he didn’t want to be tempted to go out there.
“Delia was so nice.” He sighed. “I hope she survived somehow.” Even if it would clue the other Videre in to what happened, she didn’t deserve to die for being in the wrong place. But most likely she was dead, Bari was a very excellent hunter.
Theo continued to stare up into James’ face which was so familiar to him, but changed still. Too perfect like a portrait with every blemish smoothed out or uneven smile corrected by an artist trying to improve on the original. Theo much preferred the original. “I hope so too.” He said, and then flinched away from the pained sound followed heavy retreating steps and slamming doors. “If I hadn’t followed you - prevented you from killing that man this wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t have been so hungry to feed on me instead, Baribus wouldn’t have come looking for me, he wouldn’t have found you, he wouldn’t be dead also…”
The fledging hung his head and ran his hands through his hair. Like the rest of him it too was dull thanks to his over hungry state. “This is my fault. I should have accepted what Beckett told me when -“ Theo cut himself off. Of all the regrets, doubting that tiny sea devil shouldn’t be one of them. It was good to have doubted the story of his friend’s death. But finding that it was partly true, Theo should have left the matter alone.
" I know his name. It.. still feels strange to use familiarity with a man who would have staked me through the heart and left me chained for days" because it gave the man humanity behind the title of hunter. " However, after tonight I will have to rethink that mindset. He's proven a better man than Lestat is giving him credit for. His .. intention was noble. " He takes a deep breath he doesnt need to try and keep himself under wraps. That hunger is getting far more insistent and his resolve to keep it in check is slipping.
" Perhaps so, but that does not excuse my actions. .. If I had been stronger -- to fight it just a bit longer. Yet I could not. Instead, I wanted you so I took you and your blood was... oh, so delectable. I still can recall its purity. Unspoiled. " He's just about drooling at the memory. When those eyes opened there was that contracted look in them.
" T-Theodore? " he clears his throat. " Hypothetically speaking if .. if you were to feed upon someone right now.. who wouldnt you mind .. occupying the form of temporarily?" he's not thinking clearly.
The Admiral-- well, former Admiral at the very least.. had been on the hunt for dinner tonight when a large bird, far bigger than Theodore, attacked him. What was it with Birds . lately?
Too vibrant to be human green eyes met with the magpie’s
Norrington had settled down, with Theodore at his feet. " Theodore, I appreciate your fervor , but please.. try to understand. This is what the hunter desires, as much as Lestat. For Lestat, it will bring satisfaction for harming me , in the same way you lunged at him to defend your friend. And for my doppelganger, punishment will apply a balm to the guilt he feels-- perhaps for my torment , but namely for the death of the woman in his employ. We would be far crueler to hold them back from it. "
He was hungry too. He had fed, yes, on the one woman. But for how much damage he'd taken and his normally ravenous appetite on an average night, it was really a wonder he kept it together was good as he has. But it was Theo who needed to feed more than he, so that he could heal.
His eyes were even more vibrant, if possible as Theo gazed into them . " In spite of what I've been told.. I'd.. like to think so. A shred of it at the very least." He exhaled a breath he didn't need.
Though a scream of pain, muffled and subdued from the doors between them, did have his head whipping up. He frowns, turning back to Theodore. Then a brow raised. " How so?"
Oh! He had been unsuspecting of that. The clever hunter yanked him to his feet and bending him over the table. Essentially assuming the position. Legs holding him upright but spread more than shoulder width apart, as breeches were lowered, displaying the taut prize he'd won. Norrington was quite fit, his job had required it of him. Though more lean than muscular, as in Gabriel's case. But he liked the dynamic of this position, gave Gabriel the Edge here.
He glanced back over his shoulder when he felt fingers brush over, to breech him. While seductive words compliment and entice in intoxicating filthy talk. " Ngn b-Bold words, I certain welcome you the challenge " he exhales in a breathy retort.
But his own boldness quickly melted into a grunt of slight effort, head lowering as the hunter prepared him for what was no doubt much much bigger than those meaty digits of his. He withheld any other sound otherwise. He's not gonna make it that easy for him.
Norrington was already removing his formerly white , pristine shirt. Though it had been though hell along with the rest of him. Holding Theo to him, trying to keep his attention of his pain-- their shared pain. Funny, they've shared pain in the past, just never so literally before.
" It will be alright, Lieutenant. What were you thinking? That was terribly foolish. " he chided, using that shirt to bind the no already no longer bleeding wound, but this was second nature to him. The burns from silver chains still marring otherwise perfect flesh. Along with the gunshot healing slowly. Yet, he's patched this man up so many times. His concern genuine but any actual danger was minimal.
He scoffs at Lestat " Clearly you've forgotten I share the same maker bond with he that you do with us. " He he motions to Bari. It dawns on him then. " Or.. do you" because he's struck the fledgling before and Lestat didn't seem to feel any of it.
James was still cradling Theo to him, as Bari's eyes harden in determination. And James understands those next words. Understands that he was ACUTALLY looking forward to it, it would not absolve him of his sins but it would soothe both of them to get it out of their systems. Each would feel they got something out of it. James has felt the same himself in the past.
" Come, Theodore, we shall discuss many things until these two have let off some steam.. " He’s gonna help him into the other room
“He attacked me, I was only defending myself.” Lestat hissed bitterly when he was screamed at, narrowing his ice cold blue eyes as he approached Bari again, “You know… had this spineless coward of a man not tortured you first, James, we wouldn’t even be in this predicament he snarled, circling Bari like how a shark would its prey.
“He NEEDS to pay for what he did to you, my love.”
As Baribus watched from his frozen position, eyes fixed on Theodore, resting in his sires arms as blood from his leg seeped and pooled about him. Jame’s words echoed in his mind as well as the call for vengeance from his murderer. ‘You wear your guilt on your sleeve where others wear their hearts…’
He did, didn’t he? He’d been doing it this whole time, letting it fuel his anger, his hatred—of his doppleganger as well as himself. But as he gazed at Theo, wounded in defending him, a cold sort of resolve came into the hunter’s eyes and he seemed to straighten just a fraction. He took a deep breath, letting his anger and hurt and grief flow through it as he exhaled.
“I will take my punishment,” he said at last, moving as little as he could as he gazed at James. “You were right. We are more similar than I thought. As it stands, you were punished for your crimes at my hand. Therefore, it is only fitting that I endure the punishments for my crimes as well.”
He then turned his eyes on Lestat whom he fixed with a steely golden gaze. “Do your worst, but let it be done elsewhere where others need not bear witness to it.”
As terrible as it was to admit it, James was right. This needed to end before any more uninvolved were harmed. Indeed, his friend didn’t need to witness more pain and it was better to face the terrors his sire had in store than cower in fear in the moments before them.
James was a bit preoccupied with his doppelganger calling his attention to notice the fury in his fledgling's eyes. The man thoroughly put in his place at the snap in tone and what he revealed he had heard in that mind of his. He could respect that hatred from the hunter as a human, but he would not tolerate a hypocrite sharing his features.
" You and I are more alike then you know" he speaks once more in that restrained , authoritative tone. Of a man who had seen and experienced it. When that horrible feeling over takes you , and your will bends to it's grip. " You wear your guilt on your sleeve where other wear their hearts. Projecting your grief in her name, her visage. The pain is greater for you because you've always prided yourself on your iron clad will and self discipline. I do NOT expect you to like me for my past sins, but for FUCKS sake at least acknowledge my perspective! " James... never... curses. But this, this he was not playing around with.
That’s when he heard it, Theo's snap , and those angered nearly flashing green eyes. Turning his head to late to stop it. " THEODORE!" In near unison with Bari, the pair witnessed in horror the silver embedding in the fledglings thigh.
Pain shot through James at that moment. The burn of silver all too familiar , though no marks would ever show on his body for it. Jaw tight , to follow and that throw had James FIGHTING through it. GOD DAMN IT LESTAT
Theo had gotten enough air time for his maker to spring into action. Leaping with clenched teeth, catching Theodore before he could strike the floor. Bracing that fall essentially. But due to multiple extenuating circumstances ( his own wounds, Theo's pain psychically linked with his close maker bond, not enough feeding ) he was unable to stick the catch. Sending both of them toppling to the ground.
“ This is NOT how a respectable coven acts! Stop this ALL of you! NOW! That is an ORDER! “ He’s O R D E R I N G Lestat as much as he is the rest of them.
Lestat didn’t expect Theo to jump at him, but he definitely should’ve. He let out an “OOF” as Theo tackled him, his hands now on his throat like that would actually do anything. In an act of self defense, Lestat grabbed the silver dagger James had gifted him for their anniversary out of his boot and plunged it into Theo’s thigh. He twisted the silver blade in the flesh and when Theo cried out in pain, Lestat grabbed Theo by the FACE and hauled him into the air. He flew a few feet off the ground towards the ceiling, his ice blue eyes cold and angry as his hand clenched around Theo’s jaw HARD. If he gripped any tighter, he’d break the boy’s teeth and jaw completely.
“I don’t enjoy torture… however, that piece of shit deserves it. After all, he tortured my James, YOUR CAPTAIN MIGHT I REMIND YOU, for literal hours and was planning on executing him completely. So before you attack me, I’d suggest you as your precious friend about why he deserves to be tortured in the first place.” Lestat hissed and bared his fangs, throwing Theo to the floor from about 6 feet in the air.
When he landed, he saw Bari starting to get up and he whipped his eyes around, staring at his new progeny.
“As your Maker, I command you not to move from that spot until I tell you or move you myself!” Lestat growled, his bond making the order permanent once Bari was fully upright. He then looked down at Theo and yanked the silver blade from his thigh, putting it back in its holster in his boot.
“James…. I’d suggest you use your Maker bond right about now before he does something he’s going to regret.” Lestat snarled viciously, his gaze never leaving Theo.
Baribus didn’t even wince at Jame’s bellowed order, not the volume nor the ferocity. But the mention of the maid made him stop and stair with wide-eyed shock. The man’s words could not have hit him harder than a silver bullet to the chest. Guilt and shame bled through his mind as he stared at James, the horror and shame of what he’d done and become stabbing him in his stilled heart.
“How did you know?” he asked, pushing himself up, a tone of desperation in the former hunter’s voice, “How did you know about her!?” He hadn’t told anyone about it and Theodore had only just arrived. How did the vampire know about Delia!?
He’d only just managed to push himself to his feet when Theodore charged between them all, sending Baribus stumbling back to avoid collision.
“Theodore, NO!” he yelled and tried stop his fury driven friend. But it was too late—he was already on Lestat and before Baribus could reach him to pull him off, they were in the air. All the hunter could do was watch as the Theo howled his fury while Lestat dragged him into the air, rebuffing him and throwing him to the fllor It was only on the ground that he saw Theodore had been stabbed and the blood spilling from the wound on his leg.
“Theodore—!” Baribus began and moved to take a step before freezing in place. The young vampire bemoaned his fate and looked up at his master, only his golden eyes moving to keep track of Lestat.
What was he going to do now? What new horrors and terrors did he have in store? The hunter didn’t know. But what he did know was that whatever the blond vampire had in mind for him, it was going to hurt.
Chloe drinks the offered juice. Only a few sips, but enough to satisfy his instincts to comfort her after taking her blood. It’s his tongue against her chest that brings about another shiver. Such an act hadn’t been experienced with another in years and her flesh warmed and blushed at the contact.
“You’re warmer,” she tells him, ignoring the comments about her bedroom and hypnotism. The detective isn’t sure how it works with a vampire, but it’s a stark contrast to how cold his touch was before.
Chloe leans forward, hand moves to cup her forehead as a slight headache slowly makes its way to the forefront. She nods at his offer, hand falls from her head to massage at unwounded side of her neck. While she had wanted him gone from her home earlier, now she feels so weak that she worries she won’t make it to her bed before needing to sit down. “My head hurts,” she finally admits as she looks to the vampire before her, “Are you always going to read my mind when you’re around me?”
"Your bloods effect on our kind. In essence we rob your life to temporarily experience life again with each feeding. A-although yours has me a bit, warmer than usual . There is something very special about you, Chloe.” He can still taste the divine imprint there. But unsure on how or what that meant in her blood.
He offers her an arm .
" If you'd like a bit of assistance to your quarters, I would be happy to escort you. Or , carry you , if you prefer." A teasing little smile.
Clearing his throat, he looks down sheepishly. " Only what you project to me. Some of your thoughts do jump out at me from time to time. But I will try not to pry, if I can help it. Will that suffice? "
Chloe had dove head first without a breath of air into her work after Lucifer had faded from the world. Days had turned to weeks, weeks into months, and now months were turning into a single year -- and throughout that time, the detective hadn’t so much looked at another man. All she could do was dive into work. Any man that was given attention was one dead and without a pulse ( still not knowing that vampires did indeed lurk in the inky shadows ).
When she’d believed she had a lead -- the tall and handsome Englishman sitting behind bullet proof glass -- it seemed his story checked out. This was not the vampiric serial killer that she’d been in search of.
“I do have one question before you leave,” she said, standing close to him as the keys were slid into the slender keyholes of the cuffs keeping him in place at the table. The faintest hint of her perfume lingered about her, subtle and soft as she freed his wrists and placed cuffs back upon her belt.
Ella’s words still remained at the back of her mind. We have a full on Count Dracula going on here. There were just some things that Chloe Decker refused to believe in and vampires were just that. Posed question would simply be made in jest -- made simply to appease Ella’s inner Twihard.
Felicia stood off to the side while he did his investigation. She could tell she was on edge the whole time. Magic wasn’t something she was comfortable with. Her whole body even flinched when he touched it directly.
“Are you insane?!” Yet it seemed he wasn’t since nothing happened. The shifter reached her hand to touch the statue as well. She let out a breath when there still wasn’t a reaction. It was strange that someone would want something that didn’t do anything, but it was probably valuable. “I guess that something at least.”
Norrington sighed. " All worked up over nothing. What a waste of time and effort. " At least he got a meal out of it.
But, oh little did they know. He nods, giving her permission to go ahead and bring the item to the collector. " I will accompany you , however, I would prefer to remain outside unless absolutely needed. Rather not be treated like a marionette again, you understand. " Says the man who glamours other to feed.
"Well well.. it's not every day a lovely woman breaks into my suite. Exquisite room service here, I really must give them five stars. " Holds up a bottle. " wine?"
Black Cat hadn’t expected anyone to be up. She slowly turned face the man. Most people didn’t react like that when someone broke into their places. Which meant he was either a naïve idiot or extremely dangerous. “I wouldn’t start getting to many ideas. I’m just here to get a thing or two and be right on out.”
There was no protest. Rather, James aggressively, EAGERLY returned the lustful kiss. He wanted to let go, just for once, he wanted to forget who he had been and enjoy himself. Enjoy the pleasure of another man's company and.. let go.
And that gorgeous visage was there for him. Killian was in for quite the treat too, as Norrington pulling him closer . Following, pursuing the pirate he was chasing the lips of. Who needs air!?
Oh, right.. he did.
Breaking the kiss, the former Commodore realized it was because the Captain' was now seated on the bed. James " Right, yes.. of course. " He exhales, a bit breathless. Brain taking a moment to catch up. But instantly those hands went to work to unbutton , lace and tug free his canvas for which to please.
Moving back into the cell block as something of an automated response for the Cajun. He was no stranger to a hard days work but this was…something else. He swore that in addition to dampening his powers this fucking collar was slowly sapping his energy as well. It might in fact be so, considering how much of Gambit’s strength was connected to his mutant abilities to harness that ever present energy source in himself. Having been drank from so recently probably didn’t help things that much either.
He stumbled slightly as they moved and was easily pushed inside, aching all over, craving collapse. It was only upon seeing James and knowing what would come next that he revived at all, ready to protest, ready to fight. But his lover waved it off, warning him to remain.
Remy’s eyes widened, worried, confused. A deeply comfortable feeling of being helpless filling his chest as James was lead away to take his turn working in the yard beyond the building. Being used as slave labor to build…what exactly? The Cajun wasn’t able to tell, not yet.
Anxiety filled his chest once he was left alone, and any idea of sleep or real rest quickly abandoned him. There was no way he could relax; not cornered in this fucking cell the way he was, not knowing if James would be safe…
Pushing himself up with a groan he was pacing, trying to work out some of the soreness in his muscles as he continued to watch out the door. A prisoner from the cell across suddenly caught his attention; “Sit down idiot. You’re making me dizzy watching you pace.”
Remy turned his attention to the man, an older man with grey black hair, heavily tattooed, looking to be something of the biker sort.
“Pardon moi, didn’t mean to disturb your rest and relaxation.” LeBeau countered with his own southern snark, lip curling.
The older man snorted an annoyed huff of a laugh. “You’d better take it while you can, long legs. They’re only breaking you in. Usually the shifts around here are 16-20 hours and you’re lucky if you get to eat or piss. Working yourself into a little huff over there is only going to go worse for you in the long run.”
“I don’t imagine this place has much of a ‘long run’.” Remy replied and the other nodded.
“Suppose not.”
“What is this place?”
The older mutant shrugged. “Lab? Labor camp? Fuck if I know. All I do know is so far the only way anyone gets out is in a body bag. You work until you can’t. And when you can’t…” He looked grim, eyes trailing down towards his claws. “You get used for other things. Experiments probably. I hear the screams sometimes. Don’t see to matter how thick the walls are.”
This made the Cajun pale, his thoughts immediately flooding with fears that they were dealing with the same sort of people Wolverine had in the past. People who liked to turn mutants into weapons, and if they couldn’t do that, they used them as lab rats to build better ones.
He cast his eyes down the corridor again, towards the door where James had disappeared, stomach in knots. The pacing continued.
**
It went dark then, rather expectantly. The sudden plunge into blackness caused several cries and shouts of panic from the other prisoners. There was a low whine of the power to the doors being drained, the sudden heavy click of locks being released in tandem.
Gambit’s eyes were adjusting to the dark just as the emergency lights came on with a hum, only providing spotty patches of light. And then James was there, the Cajun sensing him only a moment before hearing his voice near his ear.
A feral grin spread across LeBeau’s face and he turned, finding the vampire and dragging him in close, embracing him almost roughly. “You have got to stop sneaking up on me like that,” he hissed, but his annoyance was all an act, much too relieved to care about his lover’s flare for dramatic.
“How did you manage to knock off early, as it were?” he asked, giving the other a smirk of his own, though his gaze was still worried.
James allowed himself to be pulled in closer, chuckling as he embraced his lover, before releasing him and reaching into his pocket, producing the key he'd glamoured the guard into giving him. He'd unlocked the collar then, so there was no chance in shocking Remy anymore, and returning the use of his powers as well.
" Elementary my dear Gambit. Their technology may dampen mutant powers, but hardly works on an immortal. " He chucks Remy's collar at the wall until it shatters in several pieces.
" Come on. The power wont be down long. And they will find the bodies I've left behind." He was warm to the touch, which meant he had fed upon the guards who dared to try and whip a young woman who wasn't strong enough without her powers to do the work demanded of her.
He kept hold of his lovers hand , entwining long fingers as the pair followed the other mutants , escaping from their open cells. Darting in the direction he had noted the vans came from . He may have been out of sorts but he had been conscious most of the time.
It was perhaps not the most conventional place for a long weekend getaway with your sweetheart, but then again there wasn’t much about Remy or James that would be considered “conventional.”
Despite the heavy criminal element in Madripoor, Gambit’s ties to the Thieves Guild however ensured they wouldn’t be taken advantage of, as long as they staid in certain circles. Easy enough in The Princess.
It was a warm, balmy night, and the pair were on one of the upper private balconies, away from the noisy crowds, floor show and music which seemed to thrum through the building like a pulse. LeBeau sipped his drink--his third of the evening--and took in the dazzling display of lights from the crowded inner city that sprung up around them, back lit by a velvet dark sea and waxing moon. Remy’s hand played along the vampire’s back, teasingly tickling up his lover’s spine as they shared the moment together before setting his drink aside and looking at the paler man fully. “What do you think?” he asked, that familiar rougish grin appearing on the Cajun’s handsome features. He had cleaned up for the occassion, auburn hair well groomed, stubble shaved smooth, dressed in a dark suit with a blood red tie. A nod to his vampire boyfriend as well as a small tease. It was no secret that Remy liked looking like a snack for his lover in every sense.
“No place like Madripoor in de world to be sure. Little island with the big bad reputation. Beautiful though, if you know where to look.”
It was just like Gambit to bring them someplace where they could hide among other dangerous beings. Though Remy had put much of this lifestyle behind him, at least here Norrington was not going to stand out like a sore thumb, making him that much more likely to be attacked. Vampire hunting seemed to be just as popular as Mutant hunting these days...the whole world goin’ to hell and they weren’t even in New Orleans to enjoy it.
Remy leaned in and stole a kiss from his lover, feeling warm and flushed and just reaching the sweet spot of tipsy. Even more so thinking of what the rest of the night had in store for them. “Penny for your thoughts, cher?”
James stares down at that stunning beauty he does not feel he deserves. It was the first time a woman had ever wrapped her lips around him before, so to have his first experience by a woman with plush lips and unmatch skill. Oh, he would not be quiet. How could he? ALLEERa! My GOD. " He gasps out nails already digging into bedding .
The other hand in that beautiful mane of hair trying not buck , to let her work at her own pace. He'd never felt anything like that mouth before. Here is where his virgin was showing.
The deckhand had just needed a few moments reprieve as he had slipped down to the cargo hold. A bottle of rum clutched by its neck clasped in one hand, while taking a few breaths when he heard it.
There was a rustle behind several crates, which caused the scruffy former Commodore pause, head tipping a bit as his sword was drawn and pretty green eyes narrowed. Either the rats were getting bigger, or he wasn’t alone.
“ Is someone there?”He merely assumed one of the crew had the the same idea as he to take a breather from manual labor.
Step by step, the man slowly approached the noise. “ Oh come now, the jig is up, I’m not going to bite. “
Eyes never leave his as their feet touch the floor and a chilled kiss was placed upon the back of her hand. Lydia’s met gentlemen before – Adam Maitland was one – yet never had she met a gentleman so refined…and more importantly, with an amazing British accent to go along with it.
“I have some dresses in my closet,” she told him, slowly pulling from him. What she doesn’t tell him is that those dresses are in various shades of black, all akin to that of mourning dresses or the simple black sun dresses that her stepmother had bought for her when they’d go on beach trips.
“Hold on,” Lydia told him as she disappeared into her bedroom to change from night shirt into a knee length dress the color of pitch. Lace adorned the neck, a collar like that out of some old school Dracula film. It was a modern take on a Victorian dress. Everything about the dress is a throwback to her younger years when she embraced more of her gothic side.
Stepping out of the bedroom upon bare feet, she walked back into the living room to meet her ghostly room mate. “We don’t usually wear long dresses in this age.”
Norrington blinked as she tore away from him to go put on her prettiest old dress for him, and that in itself he found quite touching. Waiting there like a good boy for her , keeping the dance going, swaying across the floor, with only the beat in his head, because the song had ended.
Until she returned , dressed more akin to his style. Granted more like a widower of his time, but very lovely nonetheless, and James smiled, beaming brightly at the fine woman standing before him . " You look lovely, Lydia. Every bit the dark gemstone in a treasure chest of Aztec gold" He bows genteelly before her .
" A fine woman indeed. " Oh be still his non existent heart.
Sunset was always the best time to walk along the light sands of the beach. The sun low over the horizon made the water sparkle in a prism of colors. It was almost a magical place to be.
However, the thing about oceans.. buried treasures never stayed buried. At least not long enough. The current, as such, had carried the fractured wheel from an old 18th century ship of the line. But at least for the most part it was in tact and would make a very nice wall display. ( Especially now that Delia isn't the house designer right, Lyds? )
But this wasn't the wheel to just any ship. This wheel had come off the HMS Dauntless. A vessel that had tried to sail threw a hurricane and sank off tripoli. It had been tragic, really. Many good men had lost their life at sea that day.
Wasn't that just like a haunted piece of wreckage to call a certain older goth?
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