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Post by Bee on Nov 18, 2010 23:45:41 GMT -5
Recipe books? That hadn't been a turn she anticipated the conversation taking. She had a brief terrible mental image of Simcha roasting on an open fire, and her lip quivered a little bit, but she didn't have time to dwell on it, as a development rapidly took it over.
She was aware of Apocalypse's focus going somewhat...fuzzy, and perhaps a little agitated. She thought that maybe he was just becoming more inebriated, and that under certain circumstances he might be an agitated drunk, which she was more than capable of handling. Then she followed his gesture to the King that had spotted them in the other bar, and she felt a small thrill of annoyance as well.
"That sounds like an excellent plan," she said. With any luck the--increasingly smarmy-looking, to her perspective--King would lose interest if he had to give a prolonged chase.
Or it would excite him.
Stop thinking negatively, Helena. At least shaking him had the potential to be an amusing game, provided it didn't last the night.
There wasn't as much of a drink to finish off this time around. She took care of it and rose from her seat, brushing lightly against Apocalypse as she moved, pleased by the feel of his skin against hers. The reason, she thought, to shake the King off them sooner rather than later.
"Maybe he'll get hit by a carriage and die," she said, speculatively. "Let's make tracks."
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 19, 2010 6:24:08 GMT -5
This was wrong on so many levels. Apocalypse knew himself, and he was not an angry drunk. He was an unstable man at the best of times, but this was -- why did this have to be happening tonight? He put a handful of coins down on the table, taking a deep breath to try and stop the spinning of his head.
Damn it all, it was all that infernal man's fault, he was sure of it. He shot the stranger a piercing glare, distracted from his rage by Helena's sudden and flirtatious touch. That was enough to break him out of his own mind for a second and he stood, smiling as if nothing had ever happened. His hand found the swell of her hip as she walked past, and then he stood to follow her. Let the arrogant prick come after them. They'd lose him in the streets, Apocalypse was confident.
"Perhaps he will. I know a carriage driver, I could set something up with him," he replied with a wide grin. The statement was said in a light-hearted way, but something in the King's rather dilated eyes seemed a bit honest about it. "Lead the way, my dear." This time, she could chose where they would end up. He only hoped it would be a bit more quiet than the first. Or, for that matter, the second.
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Post by Bee on Nov 19, 2010 20:17:13 GMT -5
She led him through an alley, through a little restaurant whose patrons did not seem to be pleased by them using their place as a byway, down another street, and finally to the littlest pub she could think of, a place that might be less crowded even on a night like this. A good place to avoid people and be able to keep an eye on everything. She had also hoped that her erratic path might have detached the intruding King from their trail, but she had a weird, sinking feeling that he might have followed, that he might have just been crafty in his pursuit. They had not, after all, been aware of him following the first time.
"This place should be okay," she said, pushing open the door and glancing back at her companion. He still looked a bit peaked. And piqued.
It was not quite as quiet and deserted as she might have liked, but it was still more cozy and less raucous than the other places they had been to. She shuffled to a corner, dimly lit in deference to her sight disabilities. She shifted into the dark burgundy seat.
And then the exceptional vantage point offered a vexing and worrisome image.
"Apparently I was wrong," she said. Him. Of course. The little knot of worry curled tighter. "Balls."
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 22, 2010 3:07:44 GMT -5
This place was unfamiliar to him, it was true. But for a moment, it seemed as if it would work wonders with regards to curing his unfortunate mindset. He could almost feel the urgent pounding of his heart slow to a more normal pace as he looked around to see that, for once, things were almost quiet. It still wasn't perfect, though. Some of the feeling from before still coiled in his gut, tight, difficult to breathe around.
He focused his attention on Helena as they sat, deciding that she was what was going to make this night worthwile. Other Kings could go to hell, as far as he was concerned. Besides, they were here now, and...
"Balls."
Such a quiet little curse, but with such impact. Apocalypse froze, his eyes narrowing a moment. Slowly, he turned to see what Helena was seeing. Of course the arrogant jackass had followed them. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, did he? Clearly not, or he wouldn't have followed them to three separate locations. Apocalypse bristled. He took a deep breath, found it did nothing to help. He closed his eyes.
Then he reached across the table, looping his fingers loosely in the Hair, and kissed Helena. It was a long kiss, passionate, possessive. He wanted the other King to see it, to see how she reacted to it. That was the initial goal, at least. As the kiss went on, however, there was much more going on. He let out a soft, needy noise. "One more try," he whispered, hoarsely. "If he follows us there, we'll retire to someplace more... private, if you have no objections?"
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Post by Bee on Nov 23, 2010 1:37:11 GMT -5
Helena had no objections whatsoever. She had no objections when he again looked vaguely like he was going to liberate the intruder's vital organs from his person; she really didn't have any objections when he pulled her into a kiss, principally because most of her mental faculties had been slowed to a crawl by the passionate slide of his mouth on hers; and she certainly didn't have any objections to ditching the current scene for more secluded accommodations.
She twined her hair gently around his fingers, and kept his face close to hers even when they finally broke the kiss. The spike of adrenaline and desire didn't abate. His voice only made it worse, a shiver, and she had to forcibly remind herself that public displays of things that were popping into her mind with increasing intensity were generally frowned upon.
"If that twat trails us again I'll put him through a window myself," she murmured, and pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 23, 2010 2:15:04 GMT -5
" I won't tell anyone if you do," he said softly, leaning in to return the kiss with a light nibble on her earlobe. Replacing the rage with passion seemed to be quite a good idea, especially when he gave the man another glance. He had never seen such a jealous expression in all of his life. In what was perhaps a bit too ballsy of a move, the pale King gave him a broad smirk that seemed to just beg for retribution on the part of the hybrid. Then he stood, looping an arm lightly around Helena's waist to indicate for her to follow him out of that place. The streets, if anything, had become even more quiet. It seemed as if they were the only ones there, for a few minutes. Then the King became aware of someone following them, one more set of footsteps ringing out in the quite than there should have been. He ignored them until they'd reached the next bar. Apocalypse gently brushed a strand of the Hair back, giving Helena a small and telling smile. " Get a drink on me and make yourself comfortable. I'm going to take care of our little problem, and then I'll join you inside." Slowly, he leaned in to kiss her cheek, then her lips again (it was too difficult to resist). " I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this has interfered with our time together." He was, too. He'd been having a lovely time with her, and now he was pissed the fuck off. Hoping Helena was settled, Apocalypse rounded on the other King, his form rippling as it shifted into one more suited for fighting of any sort, but especially that which was against another Biped. " Sir, I'm only going to ask you once. She doesn't want you, get over it and get out." A quiet growl rumbled out of his chest. He was going to take all of the night's frustrations out on this assrag, and it was going to be good. |
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 23, 2010 4:04:05 GMT -5
Where he stood, Randolf paused and looked upon the other King of Hearts with disdain.
This man thought to tell him what to do? It seemed funny, for a moment, when the pale one took on a bipedal form - feline, how terribly dreadfully dull - especially when the odor of Bog filled the air. How terribly, terribly unfortunate. "You won't have to tell me again, sir,[/b]" he replied, standing to face the Caracal in a smooth motion. A spell sat on the back of his tongue, just waiting to be released.
"Why don't you just head off now, and let me show the lady a real night out?[/b]" he spoke in crisp tones, releasing the spell and smirking to himself as the other man visibly staggered forward a step. This was going to be easy - human form or not, the other man didn't seem to be too much of a challenge. Randolf knew his ability's effects well, and this poor son of a bitch wasn't going to stand a chance.
---
King's Ability: Once a month, he is capable of causing an opponent ranked King or lower to lose the ability to breathe. This spell begins with a pain similar to that of a punctured and collapsed lung, with the pain centering around the middle of their back and radiating out from there. With each subsequent breath the opponent takes, they will find that they are able to get less and less air into their bodies. At this point, Cards ranked 8 or lower will pass out as panic forces their bodies to use more oxygen than is available to them. Brain damage can result from this lack of oxygen, resulting in the possibility of a coma. Cards ranked 9 - Jack will likely pass out after several minutes without air, and while Kings will be able to maintain consciousness, they will find that for three minutes, it is incredibly difficult for them to move, and almost impossible for any advanced magic to be used.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 23, 2010 4:36:58 GMT -5
It started off much like a standard Heart's pain ability, and for a moment Apocalypse thought that perhaps it was. Pain radiated in his back and then pushed through, seeming to slice through the soft tissues of his chest. He grit his teeth and tried to push the pain out of his mind - which was easy enough, initially, since he knew there was no actual damage being done.
Then he tried to take a breath.
At another time, looking back, he would swear he could feel the air slipping out of his lungs through the newly-made puncture wound, though there was no wound to be found. He tried to get another breath, and his head spun. Nothing was coming in. FUCK. He staggered slightly, bracing himself against the wall and closing his eyes. Rhiannon. He needed - needed his Weapon... But in his mind, his brain was screaming for oxygen, and he couldn't reach her, couldn't reach any of his spells...
At least Helena wasn't here to see this. He fixed the man with the most hateful glare he could manage, wheezing as he tried to force air into his pitifully reduced lungs. How was he supposed to fight like this?
Fight through it, Pale... His Weapon's voice cut through the fuzz in his brain, forcing him to focus. All spells have their limits.
He could do this. And when he was done, he was going to take the woman he was doing it for and he was going to ravage her. Best of all, he was fairly certain she was going to enjoy it.
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 23, 2010 5:30:26 GMT -5
The Canine/Avian took a slow step forward, his smile widening with every passing second as the other King braced himself against the pain and inability to breathe. So sweet, taking an arrogant ass like this one down a notch. Randolf paused when he was standing about a foot from the Feline, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Such a sad state of things. It would seem you don't even have the strength to pursue our beautiful friend...[/b]" Tut-tutting his disapproval, the hybrid glanced down at Apocalypse, the corner of his lip curling to show his teeth. Without warning, he slammed his knee up, directly into the other man's chest. Unable to breathe, all the other King could do was let out a quiet little gasp of pain, barely keeping himself from hitting the ground. "Get out of my way.[/b]"
Apocalypse didn't move, just stared up at Randolf with evil eyes. The pupils were fixed, knife-slits in the orange expanse. Something in that look made the hybrid pause. Then he kicked out again, aiming to catch the feline in the jaw with his talons.
((Rolled a 12 for his second kick.))
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Post by carcinoGeneticist on Nov 23, 2010 5:35:02 GMT -5
((Pale rolled a 17 for avoiding the kick.))
The foot never met its mark, not completely. Apocalypse's hands were swift and he grabbed the bird-foot in his hands, falling back as he did so. He could feel the points of the talons rake down his arms, but he didn't make any move to let go. The end result put the Caracal on his back, but he used the momentum to continue pushing up on Randolf's foot - the other Biped's wings opened wide in an attempt to catch himself, but it was too late (5 for recovery). He was unable to catch himself, and he went tumbling over into the mud.
Apocalypse started to laugh.
It was quiet, wheezing. His lungs were still not taking in air, but that was okay. This son of a bitch still wasn't going to get the best of him. He pulled himself forward, looking Randolf in the eye, his mouth curling into a smile. "Come on, fucker," he gasped, head spinning from the effort. For a moment, darkness crept into the sides of his vision, threatening to overtake him. He closed his eyes, rested for a second. "Is that the best you can do?"
Perhaps inciting an enemy into attack wasn't the smartest idea Apocalypse had ever come up with, but the spell would wear off, and if Randolf used his abilities now... He wouldn't be able to use them later, would he?
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