Entry tags:
IC CONTACT POST

[A woman's voice comes over the line.]
You've reached the Trickster's voicemail. Unfortunately, Mr. Trickster isn't available to take your call, nor will he likely ever be. Should you still wish to leave a message, please respond after the tone, and maybe we'll remember to get it to him, mmkay?
[Beep]
[[OOC: This is an IC voicemail post for all verses games. Please put the name of the verse/game you want in the subject heading.]]
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Probably not. Has that stopped you before?
[A younger, more rambunctious, man might make her an offer she couldn't refuse. What Gabriel did was simply lay himself on top of her with the sort of religious care of someone kneeling towards Mecca. He was still in his jeans- the final line hadn't been crossed yet and while he'd have to borrow her shower for the longest ice water bath in history, there was still a chance to say no and he'd let her, because he wasn't that sort of a man- oh he wanted it. He wanted it like he hadn't wanted anything, something possessive, and primal, and completely and utterly complicated. But he also didn't want her to leave him cold, throw him out, and forget him, because of one bad move. Too much of his life was based on those stupid mistakes. He wanted this to be the one thing comfortable in a world that was anything but and to have that, he might have to make a sacrifice.
He tilted his head to the side and then leaned down and kissed her once more, the gesture chaste- at least chaste by comparison of everything he'd been doing- and then buried his face in her neck. She wanted it and he knew it well enough, but if she said stop, then... Well, as the lady wishes. And fuck what they both were clearly gagging for.] Just say the word.
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With his body laying atop hers, she shivered. His skin felt so nice against hers. She wanted this. It scared the hell out of her, but she wanted it. There was still those lingering fears in the back of her mind that, if she let him have this too soon, he would get bored and wander off. Or all those horrible little thoughts about how this actually meant something. Random, emotionally detached sex was so much easier. This would be something she wanted to remember. He was someone she cared about. A whole lot. More than she cared about most people she had known for years, and how long had it been since she met this one? Things were moving so fast. Too fast. Too many damn feelings involved. Her heart was pounding in her ears.
The sorceress kissed him back, then removed her claws from his shoulder as his face came against her neck. She placed a hand on the back of his head and pet his hair, exhaling shakily. There was a lot of shaking going on. If sex wasn't what they were trying to avoid, she would take that ice cold shower with him. The candles died down to their usual, non-magical state of being. Then that purr in her throat was replaced by a little growl of frustration.]
I want this to be perfect. [Which was an extremely romanticized, "Damn it, this is not happening tonight."] Fucking fuck fuck! [She growled out that most eloquent sentence between gritted teeth.]
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Jilted? Yes, Gabriel had been jilted, but usually not right in the middle of the act. At least he could console himself in the fact that jilting him was not a matter of no, you're really bad at this, get off and she wanted it just as badly. The timing was just... Bad.
Very slowly, resisting the urge to point out no, there would probably be nothing along the lines of 'fucking fuck' here tonight-because that would be more insensitive than he was willing to go- and when did he actually start caring about people's feelings?- he slid off of her and as if in a daze gestured calmly to the general bathroom area and walked straight there with no word. He was a little beyond words beyond some weird gibbering right now.
A moment later, the water started, which was fascinating considering they were in the middle of a city-wide blackout. Angel mojo wins again. He pressed his head against the back of the shower and thought about kittens. Dead kittens. Dead, disemboweled kittens. Dead disemboweled kittens rising from the dead and digging their claws in his shoulder- OH COME ON.
That thought process was followed by a series of thuds, which while someone might mistake it for a very violent act of well, it was actually just Gabriel hitting his head against the shower repeatedly.
He wasn't as frustrated at the lack of sex as he'd let people believe. And if weren't a functioning empath on the best days, he'd probably be spending this magical time wondering what the hell he did wrong. The answer? Nothing. They were good. Awesome, in fact. And probably horrifically wrong for each other in the best ways, but details, right? It's not like Gabriel could build the Taj Mahal on the backs of his healthy relationships. His last major relationship ended because his girlfriend bloodspelled him and then stabbed him in the heart.
Thirty minutes later, Gabriel emerged from the shower, fully clothed, and with a body temperature that was about three degrees colder than normal.]
Gimme a warning next time and I'll make a reservation somewhere. [He wasn't angry or anything. Mostly just drained. The effort of calming down after that took a lot out of him.]
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While Gabriel was in her bathroom thinking about dead kittens, Jinx tightly crossed her legs and thought about dead roommates. All that was going on with the two of them a thin wall away. She sat up on the couch and stared at her bedroom door. Shifting uneasily, she tried to feel around for their presence. As usual, she could only feel Trauma and not Claudio. Weird kid. There was another aura that diverted her attention. Gabriel's. So strong. More familiar than it should have been. Her claws dug into the couch and she chewed at her bottom lip, actually debating walking right into that bathroom, grabbing him, throwing him against a wall...
Growling, she beat her head against the back of the couch. When she heard the same sort of thuds coming from the bathroom, she started laughing softly to herself. God, they were too much alike in the worst ways.
She got up and started pacing the room. It took her a minute or so to realize she was freezing and topless. So she tugged her clothing back on, sat back down on the couch, and wrapped the blanket tightly around her body. Okay, she was calming down. Certain things were still tingling and slick, but she did her best to ignore that. Look, candles. Extremely interesting candles. Yes, think about the properties of fire. It was so useful. Learning to utilize fire was probably the reason why man ruled the earth now. That and thumbs. Thumbs were great, weren't they? Fucking fantastic things! Oh, and walking on two legs. Good, too. Even though it was nice to be on your hands and knees sometimes. Or your back. Especially when--
Okay! Time for a new train of thought. For the love of all things unholy, something catch her attention.
And there it was. Something shiny on the floor where Gabriel had dropped his coat. Reaching down, she picked up his sword and began to examine it. This was the first time she really got a good look at the thing. It was beautiful. Her fingers traced the blade. There was certainly a lot of power in this little thing.
When Gabriel finally left her bathroom, she was still holding it against her torso, half asleep, laying on the couch with her fingertips lingering on the blade.]
We just can't do it here. [Her voice came out as a mumble. The first lights of the morning were breaking through the blinds on the windows.] Are you mad? Because I hate myself right now.
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Mad? No. Thrown off? Yep. But that's not your fault. You're right. Two recently dead boys in the next room... This is no place for a first time. Also the couch is too small. If it'd gotten really hot? One of us would've fallen off and I don't know about you, but I hate when that happens. [He sounded so damn casual about it too. He picked his way across to the couch and slid the sword away from her, sliding it back into his jacket.] Don't hate yourself for actually caring about what people might think. I spend enough time not caring for the both of us.
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I want to do this, Gabriel. I really do. Let's just... take this a little slower. Before we get too stupid, okay?
[Then she just had to ask...] So, not going to talk to me about why you have a sword?
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Only if you tell me where you got the scars or are they just living proof of how crime don't pay? [He pulled the sword out of his pocket and stared at it.] When I left home, I cut every tie I had. I hocked my horn. Literally. Last I heard, it was in a pawn shop. This is... Well, it's not something you can just ditch. An archangel's blade. I can count the number of times I've used this thing on one hand, including stabbing Tom's imaginary friend. There's almost nothing this little baby can't kill. [He shoved it back.] So I'm sentimental. It's my last connection to home.
[And the only defense he has, much as he hates it, if his family tries to kill him or someone he loves.]
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Well, he sounded sincere enough. She hoped it would last. And she was content about it until he made the remark about her scars. That got her to look away and wrap her arms around herself.]
It's very pretty, and very powerful. If I didn't like you so much, I'd lift it and use it for evil. Joking. [No, she wasn't.] But when you say... almost anything, do you mean... I mean, I've watched you take an axe in the heart.
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If I don't get stabbed in the heart with something once a year, I lose my insurance policy. [Bitter, sarcastic, and painfully true.] Truth is, Daddy gave us these swords for one reason and one reason only and it makes you really wonder what the Old Man was thinking.
[And this is the part that he... Doesn't want to admit.] They kill angels. Yeah, I know. I actually carry one of the two things that can kill me on me. If I didn't... Well, let's just say if any of my brother's showed up, I'd be deader than Charlie Sheen's career.
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The more you talk about your dad, the more I realize what a fucked up creature God is. [She sighed.] I won't tell anyone that. No need to have anyone try and kill anything else I like. Still, it's like Superman carrying around Kryptonite just in case Supergirl cracks and goes after him.
[Another sigh. Well, he told her a secret, it was only fair...] All my scars are my fault. There's more than what you just saw. My back, my legs, internal ones. I really don't want to know how screwed my organs are from all this. But it's my fault. For screwing up.
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He grabs her hands suddenly, some weird connection struck by that revelation.] Don't. Okay? If I wanted someone who never screwed up, I've got a catalog of bimbos I could call up outta nowhere. You want a real Hallmark moment? Scars mean you survived something- the only people without 'em are people who don't do shit to get them or the guys who didn't live long enough to talk about 'em. The real screw-up is a guy so friggin' stuck up his own ass, he lets people like two dumb hicks from Kansas get the better of 'em and it doesn't ever occur to him that being a stupid, stubborn jackass might be the key to his own friggin' doom.
[He pauses] I said I was hard to kill. I didn't say it was hard to get the better of me... That's another thing between you and me, though. ...Okay, so maybe I am as stupid as I look.
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Well, I knew that, idiot. [She gave a little grin, trying to lighten the moment. Because she didn't know how to voice how much it meant to her that he was sharing all this with her. If he was anything like her, which she knew he was, prying this kind of information out of his mouth was harder than breaking diamonds with your teeth.]
I've survived more than I should have be allowed to. People liked breaking me and putting me back together. Maybe I'll give you some stories later. About why I'm so... They're long stories and I'm tired. I've already been emotional enough lately. [A bit of a nervous laugh escaped her. She pulled his hands to her lips and kissed them. Time for a change of subject.] You're freezing.
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I think we've had enough emotional epiphanies for one night. Gotta save something for the next explosion, right? [He smiled and ducked his head, only looking back up when she kissed his fingers.] I burn cold. One of the perks of being too far from Heaven. They turn off the heat, which means if you had any hopes of spooning... That's probably gonna be a pipe dream. Some girls get mono from their dates. Me? I'd probably give you hypothermia.
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[Thank his dad for this subject change. She scooted over and started tugging him down.] We can fix cold. Just... not like we did earlier. [Wow, that gave her body a sudden tingle.] I'm okay with hypothermia if you're okay with taking me to see my doctor when I come down with frostbite. But right now? You're warmer than the rest of this damn room, so sit your ass down.
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He feigned complete resignation at being tugged down, although halfway to sitting down, he cracked a smile.] Okay, okay. Geez. You're so controlling.
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[She grinned when he called her controlling and yanked him the rest of the way down.] Get used to it, angel boy. I'm controlling, jealous, and one hell of a bitch. [Also, she was a cat. Immediately, she made herself comfortable in his lap. Shoulders and head on his thighs, she looked up at him with those big, tired eyes. Reaching up a hand, she smoothed back his hair.] From this day forward, you're mine. Deal with it.
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[It sounded better when Kali used those words anyway. ....He was just going to hope that Jinx didn't know any bloodspells.]
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Can you live with staying here until I fall asleep?
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[The purring was starting up, which was a very silly and somewhat feminine way to snore.] You...smell nice. Keep petting me.
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