Topic: Forbidden Fruit

Refined Grace

Date: 2010-07-22 13:28 EST
(OOC Note: The time of this thread takes place during the first few weeks of Shawna's first arrival in Rhy'din-following her arrival to Klara's home and the reintroduction of Nicholas and Shawna.However, future posts may intersect in the current time frame of Shawna's time in Rhy'din and also her meeting of another....individual....in Rhy'din)

If Nicolas was a slave to anything, he was a slave to old habits. The high end lounge wasn't as hectic as it was on that Friday night. Rather than the bar, he sat in a booth. Black veils and a porcelain white contrasted his black designer jeans and white v-neck armani t-shirt. The leather jacket that he had worn when he came in was tossed behind him on the booth's side.

It was a given of restless nature to leave her haunting the lounge once more. White corset and black elegant skirt flowing in wisps around her legs where those sleek lace stockings peeked and flashed. The midnight thick of black tresses held by a solitaire blood red ribbon. As per usual she wore that old pendant. Never seen without it. Sighing for a moment she tucked an errant curl out of her face and headed towards the bar.

Before the booth was a white bowl filled with bright green apples. The many tiny lightbulbs were hung from ceiling that were very dimly lit. In his hands was a deck of cards. He shuffled them as he sat back in between nursing his white Russian. Hair was well sculpted to a messy finish.

"You come here for him again girl?" The bartender murmured and jerked his head in a gesture towards the booth. It of course left her following the tender's eyes and those dark eyes blinked slowly. Lower lip worked with teeth before she flashed a faint smile to the man as she avoided the question. "He sure as hell ain't here for me, sugah."

A shake of head. "Mind gettin' me southern comfort on the rocks?" The tender just nodded with a faint touch of a grin upon his lips

He wasn't a magician by any means. He just shuffled, and bridged. Shuffled, and bridged. Finally, that deck was set down in order for him to grab his glass of ice, liquor, and milk. It seemed like a day he was leaving behind was a day he wished he could forget. It was one of those days few could understand. A day toying with millions upon billions of dollars. With deeds and paperwork and permits.

The glass was nudged to her and she slapped a few bills down in payment. It would be rude to avoid or ignore him wouldn't it' And Shawna was just Lil Miss Manners. Exhaled soft before she snatched up the glass and headed over to the booth.

As he nursed his drink, those piercing baby blues finally rose, along with his stubbled jaw and chin. The day had worn him through. Full of meetings that dragged, and decisions he had to make. Those eyes were light, and deceptively clear of the burdens the day had brought to him. His brows arched softly in recognition, as he stood from his seat, standing his towering 6'3 frame. It was a stark contrast to the shrunken posture he had while cozied in the booth. A dim but contemporary piano echoed around them in the bar. "Is there a full moon out tonight?"

"Perhaps. Ah don't keep track, sugah." The smooth dark richness of her voice was ever akin to a full bodied wine as those dark depths lifted to settle on him. He towered over her. She had to lift her head to drink him in which is just what she did as she sipped at her S.Comfort

Unlike her elaborate outfit, his was a dressed down version, although everything he wore was in the triple digits in price. Her harmless response did rouse a grin that showed the smile lines on his face, as he gestured to the booth. "It's a shame I don't either. The hocus pocus behind all of that can be a bit...offputting for a simpleton like myself." It was a fake insult that played onto that grin of his. "That outfit of yours makes me feel horribly underdressed." Now -that- was a compliment.

"Mm I dun cater to hocus pocus." Quietly enough as she sank into the dark confines of that booth with something akin to relief to have the shadows sharing her presence. Fingers smoothed along her skirt as she set the glass of southern comfort down. "Thank you, you make a peon like myself feel like a princess."

"I doubt you needed my howls to remind you of the crown you so nicely wear." The glass was brought to his lips, as he grinned into the glass. The liquor he had drank before her arrival made him more honest than usual. That was dangerous. "And I thought Klara only hung out with girls that refer to men as stepping stones. Guess I was wrong."

"I don't step on anyone." Quietly enough as that drawl went thick around her words, chin settled in palm as the rich dark of her eyes, black velvet hue fixed intently upon him. "Are you saying now that I am your Little Red and you are the Wolf come knocking to my door...or is this just another fable meant for Beauty and the Beast?" A quiet look at him for a moment as brows dipped with his honestly. He was wrong about quite a few things

"You don't wear enough red." The wolvishness in his voice was matched by the boyish grin on his face. "Consider yourself lucky that you don't. I go beyond what that garish hound ever thought possible." That wink he gave her allowed him to sit up and finish off his drink. His arm rose, empty glass in hand, signaling the bartender. Since business was slow, the bartender was prompt to oblige.

"Mm...trust me....I have before." Quietly enough, the words seemed weighed on the edge of a blade as she gave him a long look, the hint of a smile. She was half in the notion of calling them both out at that moment to try and figure out what the hell they were doing. Leave it for life to seem to take a silent cue and leave that quiet melody haunting the room to be the song they had danced to before. She made a faint sound in her throat have caught between amusement and wry mockery at life .

He laughed a quiet, sheepish laugh. Could Nic...feel embarrassment' Or was that the rouse to what was beneath' What was real and what was make believe" His life was devoted to stumping people. Stumping opponents at the poker table to the paparazzi and celebritie tabloids was an art form of his. "Like...what?"

In the dark of that booth her fingers unlaced the top laces of the bodice worn, the hint of the red lace bra playing coy peek a boo. "Like this..." Dark lashes kept low and perhaps it was a trick of lights playing that brought the crimson touch of color to those dark depths, a starburst of blood hue. "Or this." A breathless whisper as her fingers moved elegantly against her collar bone.

The bartender set down the newly prepared white Russian on the booth. "How many poor bastards have followed those....breadcrumbs...to their dooms, I wonder?" Those bright eyes were mischievious, and sanded down to the smoothness any handsome face added to. "I bet you've got a retinue somewhere around here drooling, tongues hanging from their mouths panting clouds." He was classier than to show lust with such bodily functions. He just used his eyes, his words, and sometimes— like right this moment— the baritone of this voice.

There was an unsuspecting shudder with his words, the depth of voice and the smoldering look to his eyes. Her fingers fell away from her collarbone suddenly sheepish as if a girl found in her mother's closet playing dress up. "Not many....maybe none at all." Those old southern ways and grace of manners kept her from being so exposed in that attraction but her stillness and the slight parting of her lips proved enough.

"Forgive me. I'm not being nice tonight. I bite." He sat up, as his finger trailed along the rim of the glass of unsipped liquor. "Not into that, huh?" [

"Not into what?" Quietly, cautiously as that raw intensity was in the black velvet of her eyes. The depths of them rich and inviting as the fabric they imitated in shade and nature.

He grinned. "Nevermind.." He finally swiveled on his seat toward her. His hand came to her shoulder. With a twist of his wrist, his fingers glided along her bicep, going upwards. The thin shoulder strap was hooked, and placed in its original spot. His hand lingered there a moment, and finally withdrew to rest on his thigh casually. "How've you been?" The hot and quiet lust in his face was hidden, as he tried to redeem the festivities of the evening.

A pause, her heart near jumped out of her chest with that touch and that fix of the laces and straps. Biting back a shaky breath of surprise as her eyes widened. "Well thank you." Quietly. Fingers rubbed along her arm . She was moving then to ease out of that booth before nature took over above reason.

"Don't mention it." He took a sip of his White Russian.

"Good night, Nicholas." Husky dusky octave, a tremble in that drawl. She needed to make space between them before she fell into that whim to touch him to...have more. That glass of southern comfort was drained swiftly in one swift swallow and the glass snapped down as she licked at her lips. Maybe the soco would set her head straight. Hopefully.

(play taken directly from Live RP between Nicholas Breckenridge and Refined Grace-posted with players permission)

Refined Grace

Date: 2010-07-25 10:02 EST
She needed something quieter then the bar, needed something far more soothing and yet there she was again. Like she was running away to the place like it was some dirty little secret kept locked away in those four little walls. She had met a man, had even told Klara about him. Talbot. Yet she was still lost in a twist of emotions she didn't want to pull apart or piece together. So there she was again, nursing a glass of scotch,leaning against the jukebox as it played some old Classic Rock song that had her hips moving in a sensual sway. Wearing nothing more then a simple silk dress that looked more lingerie nightgown style then actual dress.

"Cancel the deal. I wanted a closer look at the books. I don't like the looks of the revenue stream. I want everything legal, everything certified, and everything kosher. I want a conference with accounting to search for other options set up for tomorrow morning. Alright." He clicked the button of his phone and stuffed it into his slacks pocket. For once, he was walking. And with the sun gone, that meant his work day was done. Pacing casually toward a place he began to be familiar with, he walked into the high caliber bar. He felt run down again. Negotiations were rough, and shopping around for just the right price for contracting and project management was not a fun thing. He was still in his work clothes. Clad in a typical Italian suit, his hand came to tug at his tie to loosen it. He needed to unwind...

Cream colored silk trimmed in black lace at the hemline, black lined stockings and heels. Her hair was braided back tonight, that pendant resting in its old metal presence against the smooth of her cleaveage. She hadn't seen him enter, too consumed in her thoughts and the music.

His lively blue eyes searched the room falsely. He wasn't looking for a damn thing. He went for the bar and got a gin and tonic. Nic was fickle with his tastes in a drink.

A sigh,head bowed as the song ended before she pushed away from the jukebox - an elegant creation of redwood it was. Turning away her body was smooth lines and sensual curves as she lifted the glass to drain the contents

Unlike the night before, the place was in fact very populated. Women gave him interested glances, and smiled as he passed. This time, rather than a booth, he came to the elevated portion of the establishment, to the sitting area. Nic was in a wallflower mood. He wanted to sit down and let the depressant increase bloodflow to his brain. Liberation from a headache was on the menu, for now.

"Can I have another please." The soft smooth low of voice poured over her lips as the rich dark wine it could become, those black velvet eyes lifting to fix upon the tender. She didn't dare look around.

With the elevation, and a cushioned seat, his evening was already off to a good start. His fingers glided through his styled hair, as he sat back and observed. Now that he was on the sidelines, which was a rare place for him to linger, his eyes danced around the room. Guilty as charged for looking at the hips that swayed just enough to grab his attention. And when the song shifted to another tune, he smiled and glanced toward the expensive juke box to the end. As his eyes passed over the many heads and faces. The curly helixes caught his attention on the grounds of recognition. A quiet grin was on his face, as he resumed drinking. It was nice not to be noticed every second of every waking moment. Rhy'Din was a quiet vacation that he was enjoying for the time being.

A fresh glass of whiskey on the rocks was raised to her lips as she looked around, the black velvet of her eyes drifting in near a dreamer's haze as she wandered through the crowd. Yes it was a crowd tonight of beautiful people that were dancing. Grinding hips and grooving in that way of the rich and freedom willed. One man happened to grab for her, claiming her by the hips and pulling her close in that wicked dance that was near borderline dirty. So lost in her thoughts she hadn't expected it but there she was then squirming in his embrace. "Let me go!"

His eyes had peeled away from her as the dance club gained a throbbing vibration in the floor. The bass was pounding, which suprising didn't give him a headache at all. In fact, it soothed him. He realized he hastily drank his gin and tonic, seeing it empty in his hand. As he began to map his way through the congesting crowd, he noticed that a man had come behind Shawna. Those careless blue eyes gained dim alarm when he saw the lack of rhythm she had with the gentleman behind her. And when he saw her less than rhythmic jerks away from the man that held her, he stood up like sharply and darted for the crowd. Not before he shed his suit jacket on the chair he once sat upon. He pushed his way through, crab-walking quickly through the meshing bodies, trying to make a hurry out of getting to where he spotted her.

The voice was soft and low, undercurrents of panic as that grip tightened on her form to pull her towards him. She struggled for a moment even as her hands were lifting, that glass of whiskey shattering on the floor beneath her as her fists rose to lash out. Not quick enough as the man's grip caught her wrists and tightened around them bringing out a soft yelp of pain

His eyes raced across the many faces that were below him and at eye level with him. His height was a helpful advantage in navigating. He knew those type of guys. He used to high five them when he was in a college fraternity. But it got old after graduate school. He didn't play hero too often at all. In fact, hero and Nicolas Breckenridge rarely were in the same indicative sentence. He finally found her curly hair and thrashing that mismatched the bopping rhythm of the beat of the song. His hands shoved away the last few shoulders that were between them, and finally was in their range. Since there wasn't enough room to draw his arm back for a proper shove, his foot lifted and jutted structurally with a powerful piston-like motion at the man's knee. When the man paused in pain, Nic's hands came to Shawna's frame to wedge some space between them. Enough so that he could slam a fist into his face to disorient. His other hand clutched the man's shoulder, giving a clinching hold to the pressure point sleeping there. The pain the man felt got his hands to release Shawna's wrists. Nic wasn't a bar fighting type of guy. But he had taken enough martial arts classes to know what to do to ward off ill-intentioned perpetraitors.

A startled gasp was breathed out as she took a few stumbling steps back, dark lashes widening around black velvet eyes marred with a starburst of crimson. She watched surprised and stunned at Nicholas suddenly being there between her and the other man that had grabbed her. Her wrists ached and it took a lot for her not to react in other ways. Wrapping her arms around her waist she took a step back as her eyes were fixed intently upon his form. Him coming to her defense

His leg hooked backward into the gap of the man's legs to wrench his footing out of sync. The man plummeted to his knees, allowing the man to punch Nic's stomach. Nic doubled over, but clenched his hands together and brought down a Thor's hammer type blow to the top of the man's head. The man stiffened, and slid into unconsciousness, looking as if to be hugging Nic's legs, falling into them motionless. Nic shoved the man into the ground. The man was -obviously- drunk, and forceful. Nic took a few steps away from the man, his own heart racing.

Surprised she took a few steps forward fingers reaching to curl upon his arm as the pound of her own heart was beating in ragged shock in her chest. She couldn't go all crazy in the bar, it'd put out way too much of the secrets that Klara and Shawna had kept for so very long. "Thank...thank you?

He couldn't hear her due to the pounding music, and when she touched his arm, only then was he snapped back to reality. Nic nodded, and rolled his shoulders in a futile attempt to shake off the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He turned toward her, and gestured toward the seating area. Even if she wasn't going to join him, he was certainly going there to pick up his jacket. He felt eerily calm and better than he felt before. The violence must have let him release some steam from the past few days of ledgers and board meetings.

She followed after him, eyes still marked by the crimson touch as she moved in step behind him. She felt that calmness strangely enough and settled into it with her own strange peace.

He criss crossed through the dance floor, finally getting to wear his jacket kept watch of his chosen seat. He snatched up his jacket. The noise was less concentrated, since the speakers were below them rather than at earshot level. "You really know how to pick them."

"I didn't pick him at all. He grabbed me." She suddenly didn't feel so thankful anymore, head bowed as she stared at him with those eyes torn between emotions. Crossing her arms over her chest as she looked away. The moment had truly shaken her, and she couldn't stop that subtle tremble

He sat back, and began to unbuckle the buttons at his wrists. He wore a long sleeve dress shirt that was a light blue. The tie of his was loosened, and undone. "You okay?"

"I will be." Softly, strong words even if she couldn't stop that shaking, that gentle shiver along her skin. A mix between shock and pure nerves

He nodded patiently, and then rubbed at his slightly mussed hair. He scooted closer to her, hands resting on his thighs, as his fingers intertwined loosely. Sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he nudged her shoulder with his broader one. "Wanna get outta here" Get some air? I don't want that guy to wake up for round two."

"Yeah...maybe this place isn't right for tonight." A check of the time but it still wasn't in the Witching Hour where things could go bad. She nudged him back before of all the things, an impromptu hug as he brought up the other guy again

Nic grinned, and brought an arm to stroke her back in that brief hug to acknowledge an acceptance of her gesture. He stood up, and headed for the door. A curious, almost hungry glance was toward the area where the guy remained down for the count. He'd have a bruise later on his stomach.

At least that crimson burst had gone from her eyes. It was a different sort of hunger, a private thrill to see him near beast like nature to him when he fought the other man. She moved to his side to follow him into the night


Refined Grace

Date: 2010-07-25 10:03 EST
"At least you didn't ruin your dress." His hand went to his pocket, while the other one holstered the jacket that draped on his back.

"Mm...true, I would have been highly upset." A hint of a grin as she looked to him for a moment, a slight crinkle in eyes.

Nodding sagely, he glanced at his own watch belatedly. It wasn't too late, not as late as he thought it was.

A lift of brow as she looked at him, remaining silent for now as she walked at his side.

As he looked ahead absently, he chuckled at something he just noticed. It reminded him of a conversation they had a few nights ago. It made him chuckle.

"What's so funny?" A raise of brows sent in his direction as for all things she couldn't help but smile in that moment.

"Full moon out tonight." Answered simply, he pointed up to the sky before replacing his hand in his pocket.

That brought her smile to broaden before of all things she tipped her head back and howled at the moon. Grinning for a moment up to the moon and then a flick of eyes over to him."Going to turn into a Beast now?"

If I'm not mistaken, it was -you- that made the call. I think it's you that'll turn into some...She Wolf." With a laugh, he shook his head. "You stole my line."

"You were not the only one that knows the wickedness of the night. I saw it there in you..." Her voice went quiet as she remembered how thrilled he seemed by those blows to hit upon the man that had come at her

Some would call that noble. Not so much malice.." Shrug. "It was the right thing, wicked or not. I would consider the other guy wicked, not I."

"But you enjoyed it..." Softly enough, a hint of a smile there at the mere notion of it as she paused for a moment before stopping him completely under the moonlight

He was stopped, and looked down at her. "Perhaps my long day could have made it very...weight-lifting afterward. I'm no professional in bar fights. I'm a graduate of Business School." A curious look was on his face when she halted their stroll. "What gives?"

"You came to me..." A blink. He didn't have to, and she doubted his awkward 'friendship' with Klara was the reason for it. She was looking up at him with those black velvet eyes, the woman was all shadows and moonlight and the invitation of a blood red mouth in that very moment.

"Of course. You were in trouble. Looked like you could use a hand." He felt strange for having to explain himself. "One does what one can, Shawna. Cowards force themselves upon women." He grinned. "You're welcome, Shawna."

That had her chuckling softly, warm as velvet on her tongue as she leaned up then, easing up to tiptoes as she kissed his cheek softly in her own nature of thanks

"You and Klara say thank you the same way. You know that, right?" After she kissed her cheek, he brought his hand to her chin, to lift her chin a little. After the small adjustment, his hand was placed back in his pocket. "You two really are best friends." Grin.

"Should I fix that then?" A softness to her velvet soft voice as she blinked as her chin was lifted. Those black velvet eyes intent upon his own . "We are yes..."

"Hmm.." A contemplative look was on his face. Furrowed brows and a sideways glance. A perfect impersonation of somebody thinking something over. "If it includes a monkey wrench, I'm not interested." Smirk.

"Yes Hard Labor or anything that might cause you to break out into a sweat might be far too straining on ya sugah. We wouldn't want that." Drawled out before she was moving again with almost a bemused dismissal.

That made him laugh. "Touche.." A tongue came to wet his lips out of a secret habit he tries so hard to suppress. He joined her after a secret pause. He mentally kicked himself. "Yes of course, but bar fights are just a walk in the park. Anything more, and I'll fold like tissue paper." And in an instant, he brought his jacket around, and draped it over her shoulders.

Blink as that step faltered as she felt the jacket easing around her shoulders, drawing it close around her form "Yes well let's hope it's never more then that." That headache was coming back as the hour had waxed past midnight, that soft whisper of the Shadow Man getting harder to ignore. A shake of head as she looked up to him. Maybe it was the light of the moon that seemed her eyes to seem hardly as dark but more that crimson stain

"Let's not and say we did." Smirk. The smell of his cologne was potent on that jacket. An expensive Nautica brand that adhered to every man differently. "I actually take very good care of myself, thank you very much, miss Shawna." He felt a bit uncomfortable with his color being so close to his clavicle, and unbuttoned a single button from his neck.

Miss Shawna. It brought a touch of a grin to her lips. Despite herself she found her head turning towards the scent of him on his jacket, a near feline gesture of cheek rubbing against the collar. A close of eyes, he did smell good. She almost lingered closer to him to find out just how different the smell of the cologne on skin would be in comparison to the smell of it on his jacket

"So, you're from earth, right?" Small talk, activated. "I wonder why I don't remember you from way back when. I feel terrible.." And he did. For both wolvish and chivalrist reasons.

"I am yes....and probably because I wasn't with the rich....I barely made middle class. I came to the same school as y'all on a scholarship..." Soft enough before she pressed on, those eyes were just a lovely shade of crimson ruby at that moment. "Why?"

"Well, if you were so close to Klara, I figured I would have run into you two at one point or another." His grin broadened. "Ah, so you were one of those star students who actually deserved to go to Patience." Nod.

A wry look there, shrugging a bit with a lopsided smile. "Maybe...I think my grandma just wanted to get me out of South Carolina, for...other reasons."

"What other reasons?" Nic was bold, and blunt. And was fully expecting a coy side step of a reply. His hand came to rub at his slightly stubbly chin. The five-o'clock shadow as in place, that was for sure.

"I was sick." Plainly enough as she turned to face him, the full bright of the crimson depths of her eyes hit by the moon then, fully exposed

A single brow rose, taking note of that characteristic in her eyes. So -that- was his proof. He wasn't skeptical before, but it made her being majestic so much more real. "Are you still sick?"

"I...think so...it's easier...to deal with when I'm away from home. But certain times, it's harder...to ignore it." A gentle pause as lashes hooded those depths of crimson. The stir of emotions that the Shadow Man easily could seduce within her. Desire, Hunger, the sweet sin of temptation.

"Got it." Nic nodded, "Does it...come and go' Or is it something you hide well that's always there?"

"It's there...for the most part...always, but ah have less control...come aftah midnigh'." Drawled out languidly surprised at her honesty but then it might have just been the Shadow Man's whim over her.

He noticed the pauses of her speech. And even the honeyed tone that roused his loins in gentle jolts that teased and pleased his ears. "Maybe I should take you home...to keep you safe. Does that help?" Being a red-blooded man was a curse and a blessing in so many ways.

"Mm...might be ah good idea. Ah'm ah bit more...wicked...in these hours." Murmured absently, the heady smolder of crimson as the elegant muscle of her tongue licked at her lips absently."We should...go home, sugah..."

"We..?" Nicolas paused. Even though concern was in his voice, there was hope in his tone. He felt his pulse jump a few tempos. "I'll just walk you home, or drive you, if you're far away from here." He had a feeling her 'sickness' was that supernatural ability she shared with Klara.

Something like that but a far different, far darker aspect of it. "Yes...we" She left it hang in the air, that influence of the Shadow Man kept the word 'we' coy as it was sleekly intimate and hushed with closed door promises. The hope in his voice, or maybe the awareness of his pulse and heartbeat in his throat brought her eyes back to him "I'm staying with Klara..."

Well, that was a turn off. The last thing he needed was Klara to have more ammo to hurl at him whenever they encountered one another after the incident. He found comfort in that feeling of dread. It meant that he may ward off his own wolvish thoughts. "Well, I'll get us a car and get you home right away." He proceeded to pull out his cell phone, to dial his driver.

Yeah she was starting to almost realize that downfall of well...that. Or perhaps it was just a safeguard she never realized. She watched him as he dialed out for that car "I appreciate that." Genuine and yet with that note of resigned acceptance.

"Don't mention it." He almost wanted to request her not to say a thing to Klara. But he decided against it. Yet again, there was a secret pause where he gave himself a mental kick to the head. "Mm...I'll try not to." Dryly enough, was there a note of frustration and irritation in her voice at his easy submission' Possibly. Soon as that car swept up beside them she opened the door and eased on in with one look back to him as he got in beside her to head on home