[Izzy Montoya] [ 123 not it! :) ]
[Edwin Morr] ((Bah… Well, as I recall, our intrepid adventurer Mr. Morr had just finished up business with the ever dashing Lukas Wyrmbreaker. His packmates fled, he finds himself left beset by a young miss Izzy out on the town during a stake out, complete with a box of chinese food.
That about sum it up?))
[Izzy Montoya] ((Pretty much – though not exactly a stakeout, just lunch after covering a scene. She’s leaning on the car munchin on Chow mien. :) ))
[Edwin Morr] Dirty deeds… Less’n cheap. Such was the nature of Morr’s work. And given, unbeknown to him, the comely young lass with chow mein across the way just happened to be a homicide detective, that meant nothing well…
Which was to say, there was fun to be had by one and all…
Edwin, having disposed of comrade and competitor alike, thus turned his attention to said comely young lass across the way, a sly and telling smile upon sharp but forgettable features cast in the shadow of a baseball cap bill. His hands in the pockets of a brown denim work coat, the jean clad Morr approaches…
“Evenin’ doll.”
[Izzy Montoya] She’d watched them come together, talk briefly, exchanging silent hellos with them in the way of a nod here, a smirk there, all while munching on her dinner. She watched them disperse, and just as she’s about to return her attention to the police caution tape-wrapped door before her, Edwin decides to head her way.
She stabs her noodles with her chopsticks, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, which she then wipes on her thigh. A comfortable smirk slides familiar across her lips. “Evenin. Edwin, wasn’t it?”
[Edwin Morr] “So ’twas, I reckon… Izzy still?”
He grins that sly grin, as the shaded eyes… Maybe blue, perhaps gray… turn to her food briefly. Walking up beside her, Edwin leans against the car, at a distance more conducive to talking.
It just happens to be a whole lot closer to boot.
[Izzy Montoya] “Last I checked.” He looks at her food, and she doesn’t hesitate, tipping it his way in an offer as he grins that grin, and leans against the car next to her. If he takes the container, (and if he doesn’t she simply sets it aside first) she lays her hands on the hood of the car on either side, and presses up to sit on the fender. She adjusts her coat so it’s loose around her again, then rests her hands in her lap.
“Take it ya know the creepazoid…” Ezra. She already knows that he and Delmar are acquainted. Packmates. Bogeymen.
[Edwin Morr] “Yeah… Freaky deeky’s uh might… peculiar. But I reckon he’s got ‘is uses like ever’body else. An’ if’n dem’ll help me keep purty ladies like yerself outta lice ridden wyrm clutches, dat’s uh good thang in my fig’rin’.
‘Sides… Havin’ spooky fellers ’bout tends ta give most folk pause a’fore dey fig’re on givin’ ya trouble.”
Edwin takes the chow mein in hand, as well as the chopsticks. There’s no fumbling or bumbling with them; in spite of his obvious backwoods accent, Edwin has apparently seen his way around chopsticks frequently over the years. He snags several noodles, and after a brief bit of twirling, has them neatly rolled into a small ball of chow mein. He pops the bite in his mouth, chews with his mouth closed, and swallows before continuing.
“‘Sides… Mebbe th’fellers whut really bears watchin’s dem whut don’t seem like nuthin’ ‘tall fer standin’ out.”
Then he shrugs, before snagging another bite of chow mein.
[Izzy Montoya] “I threatened to shoot him.” It’s said matter of factly, and yet there’s no doubt at all that she would. It explains the little opening her jacket move earlier too. “as for keepin me outa the clutches of the wyrm, I do alright on my own. Independent gal, and all that.”
She’s not offended, of course. She watches him as he eats, and then wades through his accent a bit. “That so… so tell me then.. should I be watchin’ out for you, next?” It’s said with a bemused smirk, as she does a sweep of the area, quickly. Her gaze slides across the street, peering into the darkness with practiced ease, before her attention returns fully on him.
[Edwin Morr] “Watch all ya like. ‘Twon’t help.”
Edwin chuckles, taking a third bite before handing back the box of chow mein. Somehow, the way he says it, it seems no idle boast. Of course, if she’d payed attention earlier to how he snuck up on Ezra, she’d have seen first hand just how spooky the Bogeyman alpha could be.
“Still… Reckon I’m uh might more cosmopol’tan’n some. Downright agreeable, dependin’ on who ya ask…”
He grins that lopsided grin as he continues.
“Though I gotta won’er whut he done whut pushed yer buttons ta dat point, e’sactly…?”
[Izzy Montoya] “Maybe, maybe night. But when I catch sight of ya, jus’ might make me smile.” She’d been paying attention. And he’d appeared out of thin air, practically, the night they met. “An’ folks rarely say I’m the agreeable type. In fact, they seem to find me a bit prickly at best – though I hardly think that I’m all THAT bad. I just prefer to shoot first, ask questions after.”
She snorts, and glances toward the alley where Ezra disappeared. “Followed me an’ stared at m’ass a bit too closely for comfort. I don’t take kindly to stalkin’. Prefer shit right in the open.”
She’s blunt, that way. S’what got Delmar a trip to see her apartment, after all.
[Edwin Morr] “Yeah, dat ain’t kosher, e’sactly. Dere’s uh certain practical’ty ta bein’ upfront’n direct. Call’t an econ’my uh effert. Still… ya don’ seem all dat prickly ta me.
Hell, ya seem downright agree’ble, so far’s I see’t.”
Edwin grins, and tilts his head a moment in thought.
“Dunno… Whut’s’t take ta gitcha ta have me over fer drinks’n whut-not dis evenin’? Jes’ outta morbid curios’ty… Supposin’ I’d be int’rested.”
((Persuasion
Charisma + Subterfuge + Fox, diff = 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Izzy Montoya] She arches a brow, slightly, and studies him, before she chuckles. “Well, let’s see. Supposin you’d be interested, I’d guess you’d have to ask. An’ agree to th’rules.”
She certainly doesn’t seem adverse to his doing either, really, as she studies him. “As I’m off work for a bit, a drink actually seems like quite the idea… as for ‘whut-not’ – that remains to be seen.”
Her curiosity almost gets the best of her – but in the end, she doesn’t ask what his packmate might have had to say Saturday.
[Edwin Morr] “Rules, huh? An’ jes’ whut rules’d dem be?”
He chuckles as she mentions whut-not, and shrugs.
“Well, mebbe les’ start wit’ th’booze an’ see where dat gits us…”
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a beat up flask. With a grin, he unscrews the lid and offers it to her.
“Nightcap?”
The scent of whiskey, high proof whiskey at that, is strong about the air when the lid is removed… Leaving little doubt as to the flask’s contents.
[Izzy Montoya] “Ah, a man after my own heart…” She takes the flask and winks at him, tipping it up to take a swig – and no girly swig either, one that’d make a Fianna approve of her stamina. She makes a face, swallows, and hands the flask back with a grin.
“Now then – the rules are simple. I ain’t lookin to be claimed, so don’t pull none of this fallin in love your mine bullshit. I don’t do jealous assholes – so be discreet an’ fuckin’ adult.” A beat, and that smirk returns. “An’ no marks where they can be seen by normal folks. I ain’t a fuckin teenager lookin’ to impress my girlfriends.”
She arches a brow at him. “See? Simple enough.”
[Edwin Morr] “Well… Hell… Dem’s my rules. All ‘cept th’marks. I’ll jes’ say I bit m’self shavin’.”
Edwin grins wider, taking the flask and downing a healthy swig of his own. A simple tightening of the grin, which gives it an almost rictus look, before it softens again. Then, handing the flask back to Izzy, Edwin nods…
“Reckon dem’s th’only rules worth keepin’…”
Then, with a shrug, a shaded gaze turns itself skyward, to where no moon stared down at them.
“Night’s gittin’ on… Best be goin’ if’n we’re goin’.
So… Where to?”
[Izzy Montoya] She chuckles softly and nods to her car. “Get in. I prefer such things go on in my territory – I don’t do the walk of shame that way.”
Not that she would feel any shame to begin with, she simply prefers her own apartment, her own bed. Or couch. Or hell, kitchen counter. All’s fair in love and war – and sometimes what happens in that apartment is both.
She hops off the hood of the car, and unlocks the passenger side door for him, before moving around to slide into the driver’s seat. The car – of the unmarked police variety – rumbles to life with the suggestion of an engine more powerful than one would imagine, and once he’s settled in, she slides it into gear, and into traffic with practiced ease.
“S’not far. Lakeview. Oh, and don’t expect to find any food. I can’t cook worth shit.”
[Edwin Morr] ((Open seal
Gnosis, diff = gauntlet (assuming 8) [wp]))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 8) [WP]
[Edwin Morr] There was just one funny thing… As Izzy walked around to unlock the passenger door, she’d find he already had it open. With that sly Fox grin, he hops in the vehicle and nods…
“Better yer sheets’n mine.”
Then he chuckles and pops on the seatbelt.
[pause here]
[Izzy] The drive to her place is rather uneventful. It’s not far, and she doesn’t drive slowly. Not because she’s in any way extra eager, but because she has a cops disregard for rules – they apply to everyone else. Not her. And being as she drives an obvious undercover vehicle, it’s not surprising that there is a certain amount of power under the hood.
All that to say it’s not long before they pull up into her parking spot at the apartment building at 420 W. Fullerton. After locking up the car, she leads him under the awning into the lobby, stopping only to grab her mail. With a wave at the doorman, she bypasses the elevator completely, and leads Edwin up the stairs.
All three flights.
She doesn’t explain why – perhaps she’s just trying to keep her girlish figure. In fact, she doesn’t say much of anything until they get to her door, and she’s unlocking it to let him in. “Make yourself at home.”
She tosses him a lopsided smirk, before rounding the corner into what looks like it’s supposed to be a walk in closet, where she deposits her coat and shoes, then on the small dish on the dresser, her cuffs, her badge, her keys – and into the drawer, her gun.
Which by no means means she’s now unarmed.
[Edwin Morr] Izzy says to make himself at home; Edwin seems ready to do that whether she’d agreed or not. He walks on into the family room, taking off the denim work coat and depositing it carelessly on one of the chairs at the dining table with a metallic clank. At least two, if not three of the long fillet knives rest in leather scabbards on his belt… Wordlessly, Edwin slips them from the scabbards and sets them on the table. They gleam brightly, each honed to a razor’s edge, like the finely cared for blades of a barber. Then, he walks over to the sectional sofa, takes off his worn hiking boots, and stretches out his legs.
The baseball cap is placed on the coffee table idly, as copper brown hair trapped beneath tries in vain to escape its current shape. With one hand behind his head, Edwin scrubs the other through his scalp to release the hat-head effect a bit, before grabbing the remote idly.
Wordlessly, he begins flipping through channels… His grin becoming sly as he runs through the guide. He pauses for just a few moments as the guide passes some of the adult entertainment channels… Just to see what was playing. Instead, he settles on a music station called Night Grooves. A low chuckle escapes his lips as the sounds of Isaac Hayes begin playing from the stereo.
“Nice li’l setup ya gotcherself here…”
[Izzy] He does as she says – whether it’s because she said so, or simply because it’s what he intends. She flicks a glance toward the TV as he goes through the adult channels, and the smirk spreads into an amused chuckle.
“Want a beer?”
She moves into the kitchen, and as she does, she unbuttons a top button on her blouse and then tugging at her waist to untuck the material from her slacks. A pause at the fridge where she grabs a bottle for both of them, popping the top before she makes her way back over to the couch, hands him one then settles into the corner with a pleased sigh.
“Ain’t got no one to spend the money on but myself. Gotta do something those nights when I don’t have company, and sleep comes slow…”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles, taking the beer she’d offered and sitting up a bit. After a long, grateful swig… It had been a bit since his flask had run empty in the car… A little beer was a welcome bit of refreshment.
“Wit’ dis setup… I cain’t see’s how yer ever ‘lone.” His grin turns sly, dripping of trouble. “Hell… I could see folk breakin’ in jes’ ta git uh looksee atcher tv an’ eight billion channels. Let alone purty li’l you on yer own lonesome ownsome merits.
Gotta admit, yer awful easy on th’eyes.”
It was strange, watching the No Moon. When his lopsided grin widened and turned sly, it all but dipped trouble… and if Izzy were paying attention, she would notice his hair seemed at those moments quite a bit more coppery red. Yet, when he simply chuckled or wasn’t being ornery, it was an unassuming brown… As forgettable and common as everything else about him.
“As fer sleep… So far’s I’ve heard tell, ain’t no rest fer th’wicked.”
He takes another deep swig of the beer, before setting it on the coffee table. Then he begins unbuttoning his long sleeved flannel shirt. Taking it off he wads it up and tosses it on the empty chair nearby. Then, he begins messing with the clasps on the scabbards for the knives that had been tucked up the sleeves of the shirt. Knives and scabbards are likewise tossed on the chair, leaving him in a simple gray t-shirt, his jeans, and socks…
And wherever else he might have a knife or two stashed on his person.
“Reckon dat makes ya uh bad girl…”
He chuckles, taking another swig of the beer.
“So… You new ta town, ‘r’ve I jes’ been remiss in keepin’ track uh who’s holed up in dese here parts?”
[Edwin Morr] ((*blink* dipped trouble = dripped trouble))
[Izzy] She arches a brow, and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “For that I’d have to thank my folks I guess.” She doesn’t wear much in the way of makeup, she doesn’t do anything special to her hair, and she doesn’t dress in ways that amp up her figure. She simply is who she is – and is extremely comfortable in her own skin, which has it’s own appeal.
“Tryin to tell me your movin in, Edwin? Now ya know the rules…” beat, and a chuckle. “though I do need someone’s ass to kick in that stack of video games, so maybe a few extra visits might be in order.”
She’s paying attention. She always pays attention. An arch of a brow at the trick of the light – or intention – that intensifies everything about him. She doesn’t ask, however, not yet. Garou are mysterious in many ways… this might just be another oddity.
He calls her a bad girl, and she just smirks. “Reckon so. Recently returned – spent better part of a decade salvaging my career and reputaion down in Miami after a snafu of epic proportions up here.”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin tilts his head curiously, still grinning that self-same grin.
“Ah… Lemme guess. Had us some pro’lems wit’ fuzzies like me, an’ you got ta clean th’mess. Only, ’tweren’t th’easiest mess ta clean… An’ yer left holdin’ th’bag.
Right?
Same ol’ saw, new musician.”
He drinks the rest of his beer in a solid gulp, placing the empty on the coffee table beside him, tucking both his arms up behind his head.
“Don’ worry, yer rules’s safe fer now. Though come football season I may jes’ break ’em, fer dat li’l bit. Been awhile since I got ta see th’Mount’neers play… An’ I s’pose whutever tv deal ya got rigged up, an enterprisin’ feller might be could see dat happen.
‘Sides… Half th’fun uh fun ‘thout strings attached is th’fact dat dere ain’t no strings attached. An’ gittin’ strung up makes’t mighty diff’cult fer uh feller whut cain’t afford ta git pinned down.”
The lopsided grin widens again, as he raises his hands in feigned helplessness.
“Though… I guess… If’n yer gonna twist m’arm… I’ll letcha talk me inta helpin’ ya break in dat virgin stack uh games o’er yonder.”
Somehow, the way he says it makes clear that talking him into playing video games would be a less than herculean chore.
[Izzy] “Got it in one. Part of the deal I took kept my partner at the time in the free and clear, completely unaware of what I’d had to do. Imagine my surprise when I get word that he recently found out he was fuckin’ kin, too. S’why I transferred back. Fill in some blanks, get back in good with him.” She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, and slugs back quite a bit of her beer.
Then he starts talking about being safe – for now, and she laughs. The sound is surprisingly relaxed, free from her typical smirk. here, in her own place, her own territory, as it were, she’s comfortable and more relaxed than anyone outside those doors sees her. Even in the face of a Garou. “It is football season – and I’m very good at arm twistin, despite being such a delicate and pretty lil thing…”
She nods over to the growing pile of cutlery. “Though before I do – how many more of those ya got on ya – don’t wanna accidentally stab myself…” Ah, there’s her smirk, right back where it belongs, nice and easy.
[Edwin Morr] Edwin nods… Then his grin widens.
“Well… Yer a cop. Ain’t dey taught ya how ta frisk uh fella? Ever’ one of ’ems in uh scabbard, so dere ain’t much chance uh dat. But… Since I’s feelin’… at home, I reckon I’ll oblige.
Dere’s two…”
And now his grin grows really sly. Reaching down to his jeans, he begins pulling the denim up toward his knees… Where another improvised scabbard rests bound to each calf muscle. Popping the clasps free, he tosses the knives to the same chair as the flannel shirt.
“Dere… Now I’m unarmed’n helpless.”
And at this, Edwin chuckles darkly… His tone telling the lie to the statement. No garou with Rage was ever truly unarmed. Still, it is with an ornery glint in his eye and trouble in his tone that he continues.
“Reckon I’m atcher mercy…”
[Izzy] “Well, I don’t typically frisk on my couch… for weapons anyway.” There’s a slight grin there, as she leans forward and sets her beer bottle on the table. She glances at his calves as he unfastens two more blades, and tosses them aside. Now he’s unarmed.
“Hardly.”
She leans back, settling into the couch again, closer than she was before, close enough to feel the rage that fuels that dark laugh, the lie he tells… warmed by it. “But then again, that’s why I love fucking your kind…”
[Edwin Morr] Edwin chuckles again, an amused and interested sound… As stormy blue eyes turn to Izzy again. His lopsided grin never leaves…
“Funny dat… Reckon ya took th’words right outta my mouth. But whatever ya’d be friskin’ fer… I’m more like ta enjoy’t then complain.”
Edwin sits up then, invading Izzy’s space just a little bit more than she had his when she sat closer. His grin is every bit that of the lecher, and as his eyes consider her, there’s little doubt of his interest in her, little doubt of his curiosity.
“Anywho… Seein’s we’re uh like mind…”
Edwin stretches… Turning his head, the joints of his elbows and shoulders popping with the motion. Then, as he lowers arms, his lips move in for a kiss, as though to catch her unaware.
[Izzy] His obvious ploy, the obvious high school move done just for amusement’s sake, gets her to laugh again, and he catches her in the middle of it, her lips parted, her breath a soft intake as he finds them, and her fully aware of his intention. The wash of rage over her skin, for all that it is less than some, more than others, is welcomed with a soft sound in the back of her throat. It’s familiar… and desired.
She doesn’t close her eyes. She watches him, even as her had lifts to slide around the back of his neck, fingers splaying through his hair at the back of his skull, as if she had any hope in the world of keeping him there if he didn’t want to stay.
She is as open in this as she is in her speech, her expressions, intent easily written across her face, in the depths of dark eyes, even as she closes them and surrenders completely to his kiss.
[Edwin Morr] Izzy closes her eyes; Edwin’s remain open. Her hands grasp the hair on his head; his arms pull her close to him. She makes a soft sound; Edwin grins in silence.
They were an interesting contrast in that respect, as stormy blue eyes stare at Izzy’s closed lids. Then, perhaps as he starts pulling her into his lap, his eyes close too…
His skin was warm to the touch, his hair soft and thick, his muscles defined but not bulky and unwieldy.
Still, for all her openness of intention, Edwin’s are somewhat less clear… For all that his eyes were closed, for all that his arms pulled her close, there was little to read from the expression on his face… Save for the lopsided grin that never seemed to leave it.
[Izzy] He pulls her toward his lap, and she complies with an easy grace that speaks of the heroes blood in her veins, the mysteries of her ancestry that she refuses to give birth too in new generations… she straddles his lap and settles against him with a soft sigh, all without breaking the languid intensity of their kiss. He grins, lopsided, even as he kisses her, and keeps his intentions close – but for the reactions under the slide of her hands over his chest, his arm, around his neck, through his hair.
She trails her fingers along his jawline, nails dancing across the skin of his neck, before falling over his chest to tug his t-shirt up, and find the heat of his skin underneath.
It’s something primal, to sumbit to the power of a garou – to know that their control means your life is in their hands, to know if pushed too far, the tenuous thread could snap, and the night end in bloodshed and death, rather than screams of an all together different sensations. It’s something that tugs at her belly, causes her breath to catch, her very skin to react in a flush of anticipation…
[Edwin Morr] It’s as Izzy starts to take off his t-shirt that she begins to find the scars. Several small ones not of any real significance and some two that were something more. One was a long, half moon scar that ran along his right side, from hip bone to ribs… A deep scar, it traced a ravine like the Grand Canyon along the flesh of his belly and chest. The other was more a mass of scars, and what looks like it might have been a tattoo at one point. However, with the multitude of scars, it was so mangled as to be non-existent. Illegible, its very shape lost to the multitude of furrows and troughs carved in the skin.
Edwin tosses aside his shirt with nary a care, his hair turning copper red again as sly intent crosses his features. A hand, perhaps not noticed in the tumult, just happens to find the buttons of her shirt…
And with dexterous aptitude beyond that of most, buttons begin popping open.
((Dex + Stealth… Does Izzy notice her shirts open?))
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Izzy] [Oh I see what ur doin!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Izzy] They break the kiss only to toss his shirt aside, and then he gets that sly look again. She sees. She knows. She doesn’t do anything to stop him, or even let on that her buttons are being undone. But oh… she knows…
Instead, she bends her head to kiss him again, her fingers trailing along the scars, letting fingertips and nails trail along each, from the half moon, the smaller mass, the furrows and troughs carved into his skin. As his fingers dip under her shirt, he’ll find the lone scar that is recent and not tied to any childhood situation. A bullet scare – what they call a through and through, low on her right side. A half inch higher and it would have hit the vest she’d been wearing – instead, it nearly cost her several internal organs.
And then, with a smile across his lips, she reaches up and peels her shirt off, tossing it to the side since he’d been so helpful in unbuttoning it for her…
Oddly enough, for one who is so often tough, her bra – and likely panties as well, upon later discovery – is a delicate lacy thing.
[Edwin Morr] ((Dex + Athletics (I guess), diff = 8))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 5, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 8) [WP]
[Edwin Morr] He chuckles again, an amused and dark sound, and then whistles, impressed or apparently so at the through and through scar. Then, he begins to trail gentle, nipping kisses along her neck and collarbone, his eyes drinking her in with an approving gaze. A hand slips behind her, and with the lightest of touch, it almost seems that her bra clasp seems to open of its own accord.
Then, as the kisses continue to move about her neck, his hands slide under the bra, trailing Rage along her skin like lightning. His touch is gentle, his skin is warm… The whole of it seems at once practiced and competent, as though he knew his way around a lady’s person.
Meanwhile, within him, a growing storm began to brew, as wolf began to vie with man for dominance over his corporeal shell. The bars of its cage held of their own accord, keeping the Beast chained and impotent… But its quiet rumblings were becoming by the moment more insistent, less placated… More insurgent.
[Edwin Morr] ((As a side note, I’ll tend to play to whatever graphic-ness (for lack of a better term) you play to. Graphic speech doesn’t offend me (I’ll guarantee whatever level you set I’ve heard a few somethings that outdo it by a fair margin), but as I don’t wanna offend you, I’ll let you set the level you’re comfortable with in terms of how this goes. *chuckle*
That said, if I do throw out a term you don’t approve of or do offend you, please let me know.))
to Izzy
[Izzy] ((*L* I’m basically un-offendable. if only you knew of my checkered RP past…))
to Edwin Morr
[Edwin Morr] ((*chuckle* Fair enough… I just wanted to throw out that little disclaimer as a just in case. I figured it was a long-shot. ;) ))
to Izzy
[Izzy] She tips her head back and bares her throat – a submissive move to anyone, not simply garou – without being submissive about it at all, simply allowing him full access to her throat, her neck. There’s a soft throaty laughter as her bra seems to explode undone all by itself. “…someone’s been practicing that move….”
Her back arches slightly, pressing into the light tingling touch across skin, a shiver of reaction dancing along her slender frame… the spike of rage within him, the thrum of the caged beast held well and truly in control only makes her smile as she slides her arms free of the straps of her bra and tosses it away.
While he is one of stealth and sneakiness, she is still far more open with her intentions, and fingers slide along his lower belly until she can dip them beneath the waistband of his jeans, nimble fingers plucking the button free with a simple twist. and she lifts her hips slightly in order to release the zipper moments later.
[Edwin Morr] In between kisses, the copper haired No Moon with the grin full of trouble can’t help but add his two cents…
“Yeah, ain’t it cool? Practice makes perfect, ‘r so th’sayin’ goes…”
Then he chuckles as she undoes his jeans, his own hands moving to her undo her slacks as well… His lips drifting steadily lower on her chest. His kisses were gentle, playful… Excited. Until he pushes her off onto the couch playfully and grabs the cuff of her pants leg.
A few simple tugs, and they’re free and laying on the floor nearby…
[Izzy] “Just don’t practice that on me while I’m on the job…” It’s said with quiet laughter, as his gentle kisses continue, right up until she’s tossed onto the couch. She yelps as she goes flying backwards, but it’s only in surprise, and quite possibly something akin to delight as he grabs her pants and she helps kick them off until he can send them flying to add to the growing pile of clothing.
Even like this, clearly at a disadvantage in terms of strength, understand that he could control her in any way he likes with or without concern for her appreciation of his control – even now, she simply lifts her arms above her head and stretches languidly against the couch, smiling that same lopsided little smirk that’s so familiar and comfortable across her lips. She doesn’t possess a ‘come hither’ look – but more of a ‘if you want it, i’m game’ kinda smirk.
She is not shy about her body, she doesn’t try to cover up. Nor does she hide the way she looks over his frame, mapping the scars on his torso with her eyes now, the way she already has with her fingers, all to meet his gaze once more. She pulls her arms back down her sides, only to slide her palm along her belly, sliding her fingertips just under the laced edge of her panties, and drop her gaze slow and deliberately to the open waste of his jeans.
[Edwin Morr] “Don’t ever tell uh guy like me not ta do sum’in’, doll… It jes’ makes’s wanna do’t all th’more.”
He grins that lopsided grin all the while, staring at her with blue eyes that for once aren’t cast in shadow. It was strange, seeing him like this… He could have been anyone, he could have been just a person. Except that he wasn’t. Rage bubbled off of him, was electric in his skin… And nobody carried scars like his that hadn’t seen the business end of the Wyrm more than once.
Still, to consider him now, all sly grinning and copper hair, his features were still those of a young man… Who could be attending college classes perhaps, or working at a normal job, instead of killing monstrosities.
That said, he was a young man clearly interested in the woman before him, who it seemed was game to the game he was playing. The sly grin widening, he pushes the jeans down his legs, and the boxer briefs as well… Leaving him standing before her in the nude, for a mere moment, two…
Before he goes to her again. His lopsided grin never leaves his lips, exposing teeth rather too sharp to be human. His hair seemed thicker too, fuller… As the wolf within began railing its fury against its imprisonment, began trying with renewed strength to take control.
Meanwhile, the creature known as Edwin Morr moved to make his desire for it better known.
[Izzy] Her grin at that is pure challenge, even as she watches him discard the rest of his clothing. As he does, she does the same, her panties tossed to the side at almost the same moment his jeans hit the floor.
He could be anyone – some college boy at the market, a young businessman working hard for his money, a bum on the street. Like as not, if he were anyone else but the boy with a beast under his skin, he wouldn’t be here, and she wouldn’t be quite so willing. There’s a challenge here that she is unable to resist, not that she’d ever thought to try.
Her eyes slide over him, dancing along his skin, apparently approving of what she sees, as when he comes to her again, he is met with open arms, and a kiss that is far more of a claim than any of the others have been. She tastes his mouth, his grin, his very soul within that kiss, before capturing his lower lip between her teeth, and letting it slide slowly free as nails dance along his back, scrap down his spine. She bends her knee, her inner thigh a slow, sensual slide against his flank as she wraps her leg around him, and simply grins, teasing…
“Gonna just smile at me all day, or fuck me…”
[Edwin Morr] “Y’know… I gotta admit I git uh kick outta hearin’ uh gal talk dirty.
An’ yer wish is my command.”
He chuckles and pushes in, taking his sweet time in doing so, toying with her a bit at first just to be that way. Then, he continues between deep breaths.
“Mebbe I’ll do both…”
His hips begin moving, again slowly at first, and then steadily faster. The speed, the depth varying every few motions of his hips. Several fast hip motions and then slow ones, and then fast again… Edwin’s lips remain pulled back in that unassuming grin, though there are moments where he seems less human than a fox; she could almost see the muzzle, that sly grin that never entirely left, the copper coat… And then the moment was gone and he was Edwin again.
Faster now, steadily faster, his eyes begin to change colors. A slow shift to yellow… Then back to blue. As the storm brewing within him grew in intensity. The beast within was now fully aware, and began beating at the bars on its cage with the fullest bit of its fury…
[Izzy] “Good, I don’t know any other way toohh…. fuuuuuuuuck.”
Train of thought is completely derailed as he finally slides deep, her sucked deep an instant later as hips curl to meet him. She doesn’t close her eyes now, not now, instead watching him, the little details along his skin, the changes that seem more pronounced, though they fade away almost too quickly to be caught. He’s fully bound to his totem, though she hasn’t the understanding of the entire process, she has seen such things before – but soon…
soon it doesn’t matter. There is nothing but the press of his hips against hers, the curl of her slender frame to meet his ever thrust. She makes good on her promise to not mark him where it can be seen, as she expects him to do – but that says nothing of his back as fingers grasp, and nails drag – sometimes lightly, always just shy of actually breaking skin..
There’s a storm brewing in him as the caged beast begs to be set free, and it is matched with a slow building fire under her skin, radiating from the very core of her as she moves against him, with him…
[Edwin Morr] And it is at this that Edwin lets out a low growl… Not a human sound at all. It was the sound of a wolf, the sound of something not man. His hips continue moving, faster, faster, ever faster, as he holds her body to his. She scrapes him up, and he just grins… Though with time, as his hair grows steadily thicker, and his eyes flicker back and forth in a dizzying kaleidoscope of blue and yellow, the grin turns almost into a silent snarl with his exertions.
His skin grew slick with sweat and heat and desire; lightning seemed to dance at their every touch. The monster’s attempts to free itself never far from the surface, just under his every motion. Muscles and scars undulated and writhed of their own accord, as the whole of the engine that was his body focused on making her his. For tonight at least.
Now his eyes change with every motion of his hips, his canines seem almost more defined than his other teeth, more prominent than they had been mere moments before. The monster was there, it wanted to be free… And all it would take is one slip on Edwin’s part for that to happen.
[Izzy] His whole intent is to make her his, if only for tonight. Her intent is eerily similar, though it is also to make sure he never forgets this one woman who was his, if only for tonight. His eyes are a dizzying swirl of blue to yellow to blue again, though she misses it with the close of her eyes as she tips her head back, baring her throat to him, giving the whole of herself over to the friction between them, the faster press of the monster railing for freedom under tenuous control…
As giving as she is, of her time, of her body, of the freedom for him to conquer her, to claim her for these few hours alone, she is also selfish. Her intent is not focused solely on his pleasure, but on her own – perhaps even first and foremost her own. While one hand finds his hip, his ass, holding tightly to him, the other slides along his flank, his ribs, until the back of her fingers slide along his chest, across scars, down to where sweat pools against their bellies – and then dips farther still. Fingertips slide into the minute space between them, parting to add additional friction, sensation along his length as he plunges deep, until she pulls back just enough to run her fingers over sensitive folds, to slide over her clit in a move that sends her over the edge with a soft cry for the the first time tonight – though likely not the last..
She knows what she wants – and she always gets hers…. first.
[Edwin Morr] And it’s here that Edwin’s grin returns… An arm slipping under her knee, to put her leg over his shoulder. Faster, ever faster, he continues to move against her, ever faster… Until eventually it cannot hold. He lets out another growl, this one verging on the edge of the monster’s voice. His eyes turn yellow, stay yellow, as his canines become fangs before her very eyes.
His pace stops all of a sudden, as he pushes his hips deep, his hands moving to her hips, pulling them tightly against him… As the storm growing within becomes a thunderhead. He remains this way for a brief span, holding her tightly against him, his muscles standing stark and clenched as he grasps her hips roughly. Edwin’s head rears back, and for a moment it seems he must howl… Save that no sound comes from the skyward pointed visage.
Several more moments pass, time seems to stand still… And then, slowly, the garou’s head lowers… The canines having faded before her eyes in the same manner they grew, disappearing to the same height as his incisors. The eyes which had been yellow mere moments before return to a stormy blue, and while his hair remains the color of rust, it seems to be less bushy of a sudden.
None of which slows the pounding of the heart in his chest, the steady swell of his lungs with each deep breath, the glistening of light off of sweat slick skin. It is only then, only then… That he releases her leg back into her control. That his grip upon her hips becomes less rough, more gentle.
[Izzy] Held so tightly, with the growl weaving between them, the illusion that isn’t one as all as she grasps her tight enough to leave marks in her skin – time stands still. Another woman might be afraid of what she thinks she has seen, another woman might pull back from the monster that threatens to break free of his skin, another woman might never seek out another garou ever again.
She is no other woman.
This is what she longs for when left to her own devices – the ability to simply give in, to wrestle for control in a subtle dance she can never really win.
This is who she is, underneath all the other bullshit.
When his touch becomes gentle again, sliding over his hips, her hand pulls from between them to wrap around him again, pulling him down against her as fingers slide into his hair at the back of his skull, and pull him in for a breathless kiss. It’s less intense – but instead, languid and confident, as she bites his lower lip gently and lets it slide free as she drops her head back once more.
“Mmmmmmm.”
And yes – that’s all she has to say at the moment.
[Edwin Morr] Still breathing heavily, Edwin just grins before answering…
“…Reckon so”
And with that, the man known as Edwin Morr lays down on the couch with her, wrapping her in what might pass as a tender hug. Just trying to catch his breath while basking in the afterglow of the moment. He sighs deeply, just laying there, holding her to him for now.
True, it wasn’t love. There wouldn’t be a claiming. No strings.
But for tonight… It was another matter. At least until the dawn broke, anyway.
[Edwin Morr] ((Aaand, that’s a fade. :) ))
[Izzy] ( :) Thanks for playin! )