| Subject: That's the good stuff. |
Author:
Polly
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Date Posted: 10/ 2/13 3:37:49am
In reply to:
Ruger Moss
's message, "/|Kick It In the Sticks|\" on 10/ 1/13 8:30:04pm
"To paths well crossed on an autumn eve," she agreed. The expression on his face was imprinting itself into her memory. It really hit her then, what Ruger had working for him in terms of attractiveness. Poly considered herself to be demisexual, she didn't experience sexual attraction to people she wasn't emotionally close to. Had she had a more amorous appetite she could have spent several moments appreciating what the good ol' boy had to offer. Instead, her mischievous smirk melted a bit at the honesty of his grin and her expression took on a pleased tinge.
She raised the glass to her lips and caught scent of the whiskey once more. At the strong smell she hesitated. Something about this moment seemed significant in a way she couldn't really comprehend. It made her uneasy, like she wasn't prepared for something that should be obvious. A jittery feeling lit through her stomach like an omen.
Ignoring it, she tossed the whiskey back and almost regretted the decision as soon as it touched her tongue. It wasn't the flavor or the strength alone, but what came a long with it. It was a rush of haunting, alien memory. Fire spread like silk through her chest as she drew in it's strange familiarity. It ground her body in the sensations of the moment while that part of her mind that should be watching the door faltered and produced a faint glimmer of a forgotten time.
Woodsmoke scented skin, soft leather, whiskey flavored kisses, laughter, and the strong spice of crushed pine needles.
She savored the moment like it was the sweetest of victories, even though in reality very little time had passed. She hadn't bothered to correct Ruger when he'd assumed she was 'a whiskey drinkin' woman' out of simplicity, but now that she had tried it she knew that it wasn't her first time. This was something she'd forgotten and on this eve in a path well crossed she found a very small missing piece of herself. And it felt good.
With a smooth motion she brought the empty glass up to examine it with that piercing gaze of hers, a cat like smile on her face. "That was lively," she admitted.
Even after all that her mind was quick to supply her what she needed. The threads of their conversation were plucked from her memory and her response was smooth and a little playful with the energy of her brightened mood. She'd give herself two points if she could make the man snort. "I won't get into my sob story, but I think we can all relate to the fact that losing stuff sucks balls," she smirked as she sat her glass back on the bar. Roots or no, everyone could relate to loss and she could practically taste it in Ruger's energy. This just wasn't the time or the place to get into the nuanced fuckery of Polly's history, or lack their of.
She tried to imagine Ruger as a banker type for a moment, the amusing result showed pretty plainly on her face and the slip of control made her avert her eyes for a second as she laughed. She really was feeling playful and frankly, she decided to screw with him a bit, especially if she'd just earned herself a new nickname from him, "And here I was thinking we were getting a long so friendly like." Her posture straightened, dark hair falling over her shoulder with the movement, "I own a lot of intellectual property. Banker lawyer-y type stuff involving patents." She said it all straight faced like a pro. Granted, all her patents involved inventions she'd created in her quest to constantly improve her gear. It was a lot easier for most people to swallow that she did some mysterious paper work and sat on her ass for a living. Tinkering around in her garage building, studying, and experimenting on new an improved ways to make sure she was the last one left standing after a fight wasn't really what brought in the cash, but only because she didn't sell weapons. And that whole line of conversation certainly wasn't something she admitted to someone after only one drink. The number of things in her garage that could kill a man was too damn high. There's no way a sane person would let her keep her toys, although; she doubted any sane person was brave enough to try and take them.
The silly thought was cut off for a split second before she could remember exactly what she should be saying to Ruger. An icy tongue of dread slid up her spin. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Polly's skin felt electrified at the disturbingly intrusive sensation. She didn't have to look at the door when it opened to know he'd arrived. She could tell by the amount of noise that he hadn't come in alone, but camouflaged in with what sounded like a group of noisy college kids on a road trip.
As unusually perceptive as Polly was it took less than three seconds to figure out that at least two of his group were vampires as well and that she had miscalculated in a big way somewhere in this equation. He wasn't supposed to have friends with him and by the way she had literally felt their attention on her like Death's chilly breath she knew she was going to have to get them all in one go or her plans for Cascade would all be for not. Creatures with a strong sense of blood were the most dangerous because they always eventually found some to follow; hunters were bound to lose blood at some point on the job. She had no fucking clue what it was about hers that seemed to make them fixate.
The vampire caught her eye for a brief moment in the mirror above the bar and she knew she'd been double crossed by her informant; this asshole knew her game and he wanted her to know he'd out smarted her. She could feel it wafting from him like a smug, irritating, cloud. Here she was, setting such a lovely trap for the bastard to have a quick clean death and now he assure himself a messy one. She certainly wasn't going to play fair if he brought backup. She couldn't really blame him, though, she had been planning to kill him after all.
"Although...I can't really blame you," she mused. "Lawyers and bankers," she continued conspiratorially, "are nothing more than leeches and I wouldn't mind staking one in the heart." She gave him a sideways glance, "And I bet none of them ever pinched your ass and lived to tell about it." She'd only had the pleasure of slowly breaking every bone in a man's hand once, but she'd confirmed that it did encouraged one to keep their appendages to themselves.
If Polly seemed relaxed when Ruger started talking to her she was positively insouciant now. It was just another day in the frelling neighborhood for the girl who seemed to attract only things that wanted to devour her.
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