Predetermination [Closed]

[Cali]

PREDETERMINATION

Walking through the underground was an experience in itself. Neon signs everywhere, and not even one was honest about what it sold. Sure, they advertised what they were known for selling, but the world hidden within the facade... Unadvertised, unbeknownst to those who didn't frequent the place - whodidn't have an in - now that was what interested Cali.

She was walking back to her Jeep, technically, but the signs held her attention as she moved away from the markets and toward the bars, closer to the surface, the nightlife, and the world of the innocents. The tall woman turned her head to the right as she swept past a faceless man who lifted his fingers to run through a long strand of her hair. Smooth and jet black, it was one of her most prideful body parts. That wasn't to say Calidane wasn't a proud woman all around, of course; she most definitely was. It had come at a price, too. Her smile toward the stranger was knowing and just slightly dangerous when she caught his hand and lowered it back to his side. "Wrong district." She hummed lowly, patting the drunken man on the back of the hand nicely. She was unafraid, despite being in the more dangerous part of town. "I'm not the sort of woman you're looking for."

Of course, it would be easy for her to be mistaken for one of the lovely damsels of Ruby, the red light district. Cali was beautiful in the conventional way. Taller than most Japanese women (and men alike), she stood at a towering 5' 10". Her body was small, but her curves held their own and she knew how to up-play that fact. Her hair was waist-length and shone in the neon lights, and her eyes were such a pale shade of green they almost seemed to disappear. By now, she was used to comments and confusion. Only after pointing the poor bastard in the direction of Ruby did she continue on her way. Not that she got very far before pausing again.

The sign of a bar had caught her eye and held it. A simple thing, black and white, and she knew it was frequented by units both pair and individual. Why the fuck not. She had been itching to do something stupid lately, feeling closed in, like she was losing her chance to be young and make decisions without consequences. A drink, a fight, a one night stand... whatever came her way, Cali was willing to take her chances. She slipped inside and patted her purse to make sure the outline of the little "toy" she had just bought was still there. The last thing she needed was to be pickpocketed of that thing.

The bar itself was nothing too spectacular, but it was comfortable and rather homey. Not to mention it was rather busy. Of course, it was a weekend, so that was to be expected. But what surprised her was the cacophony of rings that hit her own like someone slamming down the keys of a piano and simultaneously raking their nails down her spine. Unpleasant. She made her way through the floor, between rows of mismatched pool tables and toward the bar itself. The bartender was just placing down something that looked like a rum and coke in front of a woman who should've been cut off long ago. Cali sidled her way between two men, each with black hair. One seemed to be sitting alone, hunched over whatever he was drinking; the other was chatting up the rum and coke girl. She caught the bartender's eye after a short second and smiled warmly, teeth glinting beneath the lights of the bar. "One black russian, please. And a shot of whatever vodka goes in it."

I did it!so proud~

?

[Iri]

♛

In terms of bars, this one wasn't a bad one, and Dmitry had been in quite a few bars (in a variety of different countries mind you) over the course of his life. The room was dimly lit, just enough that you could see your immediate surroundings, but not enough for you to see across the room. The air smelled strongly of alcohol with a hint of the acidic stench of cigarettes, but it wasn't overly unpleasant. At the very least they catered to a large range of drinkers if only from the sheer variety of bottles that lined the back wall of the bar. The Fighter himself wasn't a very creative drinker, if and when he got the urge it was usually for the seemingly national drink of his homeland. Vodka.

That particular urge had hit him hard early in the day after realizing the date, the anniversary of his father's death. Dmitry was by no means a sentimental man, he wasn't there to drown his feelings or some other bullshit like that. Nor was he really there to try and forget. It was more of a toast. A goodbye to the man who'd all but ruined his life, a good fucking farewell to his good ol' dad. Drinking to the memory of his drunken father, later on he might laugh at his own stupidity with how hypocritical the whole situation was. But for now the dark haired man just wanted to continue to nurse his lukewarm drink and possibly flirt a bit more with the bartender who'd offered him a free drink when he'd told her it was his parent's anniversary. That was three drinks ago, and the fourth was half finished. Not enough to get him good and drunk (he was a proper Russian after all), but enough that his veins buzzed with energy and his body tingled with anticipation. Enough that he didn't even register the tugging he felt on his chest from his True Name. Any other time and he would have high tailed it out of there, he would have known what that feeling meant. But as it was he didn't notice much more than the fact that a woman had slipped into the seat next to him. She was pretty, prettier than the bartender, and she drank vodka. Strange, was the only thought that crossed his mind as he slid his arms closer, making room for her at the bar.

"Interesting choice," he motioned to her drink, tipping his head in a small nod, red eyes meeting mint.

Demy is secretly sentimental | @sam | Who drinks to their dads death wtf

ulla

[Cali]

♔

The bartender was a pretty Japanese girl who turned away to grab two bottles and a glass as soon as Cali had ordered her drinks of choice. Dark eyes, almost black, and subtle curves shown off by the typical bar-girl uniform of jeans and a black shirt. She was still looking over the girl's body when she turned back around to move down the bar toward the ice. The bar itself wasn't bad - good setup along the back wall, proud display of liquors. The music that played wasn't too terrible either, or at least, what could be heard over the sound of pool balls clashing into one another and dart boards announcing scores, winners, or busts. She would have to come here more often.

Her drink was nothing special, just a mixture of coffee liqueur and vodka: subtly sweet, a little bitter. Usually an after dinner drink, Cali had stumbled across it one random night with her friends. It was no secret that the fair woman couldn't properly function in the morning, and after a birthday night of clear Snow Queen shots (the brand was fitting, her friends had laughed) and some tequila that hadn't settled well, she had been a mess. The store was opening in just a few days and there was still an ocean of legal bullshit to swim through. Hair of the dog was more than called for, and this particular drink had been suggested by a well-meaning tender at a dive bar. What sort of place was open at that particular hour was a mystery to Calidane, but after the drink took the edge off her pounding head, she decided not to question it. From then on it was history, and Cali had her go-to.

The ice clinked together in the glass when it and the shot were put down on the counter. She fished through her purse for her wallet (careful to avoid the cold metal in the middle pocket) and handed her card over in order to start a tab. Well, here went her night.

The voice of the man to her right caught her attention just as she wrapped long fingers around the old-fashioned glass. Sliding it closer to her body, Cali glanced at the stranger who had spoken to her in accented Japanese. Hello there, tall glass of water... He was handsome to say the least. She could tell he was tall just from how his legs were bent on either side of the stool he was piled on top of, and his eyes were a deep, almost unnatural red. What a fantastic mistake for the night. But to commemorate her choice of drink? That was silly. "It's not particularly." She answered him, smirking, and picked up the shot glass. A tap on the counter and she took it quickly, feeling the burn along her hidden sternum as the alcohol slid down. Definitely alcohol. Not her name. That dream was long gone and all but forgotten by now. But the handsome stranger was moving his arm to make more room for her, and Cali figured she could afford to make this decision. She slid from leaning elbows against the counter to actually sitting on the stool beside her, propping one foot up on the rest down below the bar and pulling her non-empty glass toward her again. It was made perfectly, the coffee taste bitter and sweet and delicious all in one, and the vodka chasing it all away and keeping her chest from cooling.

OWL

[Iri]

And they're turning us into monsters

He lifted his own glass and swallowed down what was left of the clear liquid, relishing the warmth that bloomed in his chest (or was that his true name trying to burn a hole through his body? He couldn't tell the difference right now, didn't care to.) as it slid down to his belly. Sliding the empty glass away towards the other side of the counter top for the bartender to refill when she made her rounds back down, he let his attention fall fully on the woman beside him. His crimson gaze made quick work looking her over from bottom to top (though he's not ashamed to admit that his gaze lingered on her long legs and that bare bit of cleavage that peaked out of her top) before settling back onto those too fucking green eyes of her's. It was almost unnerving how intense they were, how they seemed to look right through him.

"Vodka,", he couldn't help how accented the word came out, years of speaking only his native language made it near impossible to prevent. "Is not a drink of choice for most... At least not here." His own lips tilted up into a smirk to match her's. The Fighter liked the promise her expression held, the way she acted like she owned the place. As if everyone there should be scared of her. Something dark lurked behind those pale eyes of her, something- His train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of the bartender setting down a new glass for him with a hopeful smile that Dmitry plainly ignored. He'd already found someone much more interesting for the night.

▲

Demy's on drink numbah 5~ ● @sam ● I swore i hit send on this last night d:

deltra of gangnam style

[Cali]

♔ I can't believe I lost the entire first version of this. It's HALF the size now. I'm crying forever.

She noticed his gaze, of course. How could she not, when it made her burn - something akin to hot wax dripping onto bare flesh? So she watched him watching her. At least, she did until he caught her eye. Red wine staining linen... Blood on marble. His eyes brought the hair on the back of Cali's neck to rise, and she was surprised to realize that it wasn't necessarily in a negative way. His regard excited her. This stranger was obviously unafraid of staring (and of being caught in the act of doing so, it seemed), but then again, Cali herself had never exactly been shy. She was perfectly aware of the fact that she was attractive; it had been a long time in the making. So what did she have to lose? The was pretty, he was quite the looker (not to mention he could actually hold his own against her, height-wise). They would never see each other again after this night anyway...

Her chest stung.

The sound of glass clinking against the bar top broke their eye contact. What number was this guy on? The bartender seemed more than willing to comply when he asked for more, so it mustn't have been much. And he didn't reek of booze, so that was another good sign. But Cali hadn't missed the look the not-quite-as-pretty woman had given her in passing. So she turned away from the man and tucked her chin slightly, wrapping one hand around her glass and using the other - the furthest from him, so he could still see her face - to daintily tuck back a piece of hair that had fallen. Her smile showed teeth, but made her look coy - flattered, which she was, though not as much as she was making it seem. "Your friend with the vodka-" she teased the word in the same way her interest-for-the-night had. The V was less v, more W, "-doesn't seem to appreciate you looking me over. Maybe you should leash that before she cuts you off." The playfulness was obvious in her tone; she knew he wasn't going to stop, just as she herself wasn't going to stop admiring the way his shirt was clinging to him, or the way he held himself as though he had the entire world held beneath one boot. She was so drawn to the illusion of power.

Stirring her drink in the form of swirling the contents within the glass, Cali watched the man through the corner of her eye. Then she drank deeply, wondering if she should order another shot or two. Those were the best, in her opinion; quick to go down, quick to take effect, and she could make an interesting game of it with her newfound John. Get to know each other a little better, as the saying went.

It was funny to her how vodka was pronounced almost exactly the same in three languages. The word was Russian in origin, and the W sound was replaced with a V in English. Similarly, it was changed to a U in Japanese. Cali decided quickly when she saw the bartender turn to glance furtively at the man beside her to tap her empty shot glass on the bar and hold up two fingers. "Maybe it's a good thing I'm not from here, then." she answered easily, taking another sip from her glass before turning to look fully toward whom she was talking. "I'm like you in that sense. But I'm curious, what would you expect me to drink? Sake?" she laughed at the thought, fingers tilting in order to swirl her glass again. Maybe she hadn't grown up in New York, but certain American tendencies stuck despite that all. She'd never been able to stand the taste of sake.

OWL

[Iri]

I've got some secrets I forgot to mention

He did not respond right away, instead the Fighter chose to watch her as she brushed her hair back and gifted him with a teasing smile and pearly white teeth. She was indeed attractive, and the fact that she knew that made her all the more appealing. He had a distaste for women who wouldn't acknowledge their own looks out of either shyness or low self esteem. At the same time however he also didn't like women who flaunted themselves, those women who seemed to thrive on the attentions and approval of men. Confidence, that's what he liked. Women self assured with themselves, those that didn't need anyone else to validate them. So far this woman with pale green eyes seemed to be fitting right into that category all too well, and he'd yet to find something he didn't like about her. That alone should have sent warning bells off in his head, perfect women didn't exist. But his mind was murky and filled with a pleasant hum so instead he merely reached for his new glass, pulling it closer, though not lifting it to take a drink just yet.

"She will not be a problem." He assured her, his lips quirking into a smirk as if he had just told her joke. The bartender had long ago been placed under his control, all it took was knowing her full name and he could order her to do as he wished, such was the power of a Fighter over a regular human. Though Dmitry planned to do nothing more than make her forget having ever saw him, and of course make sure he never had to pay for a single drink she got for him. He had more than enough money to pay for the drinks of everyone in the bar if he wanted to, but it was all too easy (and so much more enjoyable) to abuse his abilities instead.

Perhaps another time he would have noticed that her Japanese held a strange lilt to it, as if it weren't her native tongue. Alcohol was funny like that it made a person miss all those little details, all the clues that would be easy to notice without the booze flooding their veins and clouding their mind. It was one of the main reasons Dmitry often chose not to drink, it made him less of who he was and more of something, or rather someone else. It was his failure to recognize that she wasn't a a native here that made him decide to abandon the rest of his Vodka. So when she raised her own glass for another drink he didn't join her. At least he could tell she wasn't Russian, her accent would have been noticeable no matter how wasted he got, so he didn't raise his guard around her. It would have been a pity, she was beautiful and seemed so willingly to play with him. 

"Sake," he leaned a bit closer to her and leveled his gaze with her's once more, "is a shitty excuse for a drink." His Russian pride wouldn't allow him to admit otherwise. "Vodka was your best choice, I was just...surprised." He smiled now, matching her's before by revealing a bit of straight pearly white teeth and slightly sharper than normal canines. It was a dangerous smile, or so he'd been told. His smiles were never the one's to make a person more comfortable or some other bullshit like that. They were darker, more predatory. Nothing about him really seemed open or inviting. He was dangerous and everything about him seemed to reflect that. 

"My name is Dmitry," again his accent shone through, this time as he spoke his name as it was meant to be in Russian, and not the awkward way Japanese natives tended to. 

▲

I feel like this is the song playing in the bar ● @sam ● Happy late bday!

deltra of gangnam style

[Cali]

♔ @iri

"Won't she?" The tone of his voice piqued her curiosity. He seemed sure of himself beyond the point of doubt. What exactly had he said [or done] to the woman behind the counter to keep her silent? Cali could see her black-brown eyes watching the man beside her - never really leaving him for more than a moment... Was he controlling her in some way?

Giving herself a moment to locate her own ring in the cacophony surrounding her, Calidane noted that it seemed... stronger. Amplified, as though it sounded from two different areas. She didn't give this thought as much attention as she should have, instead assuming she was just having a good day - a powerful day. Shots had always gone straight to her head, and today was no exception. She couldn't figure out the man beside her's ring, but she could tell he had one. She felt its presence, but she couldn't necessarily hear it.

It didn't matter.

He didn't seem to be drunk, but he was definitely not sober either. And Cali would admit that she was slightly disappointed to pick up on the fact that he had yet to pick up his glass. One of the two shots sitting in front of her had been ordered for his enjoyment, after all. "Oh, handsome," she teased, pushing the shot glass toward the stranger with a daring smile, "you can't stop just yet. Share one with me first." Pale eyes met a darker pair just as the man shared his (terribly accurate) opinion of sake. He was leaning closer to her, invading her space just a bit, and he smelled nothing short of fabulous. It was an odd thing to notice about a stranger, sure, but that didn't make it any less true. Cali was finding herself more and more attracted to this stranger with every passing minute. It should have been setting off alarm after alarm within her mind. She should have been suspicious of the fact that she was getting along with anyone, let alone someone whom she didn't know, this quickly. She was a rather bitter woman, preferring to hold others at arms length instead of leaning closer - resting on her right elbow and taking in how the man's mouth curved into a smile darker than nightmares. Why was she leaning closer? Why wasn't she questioning this more?

That smirk, though... He was dangerous, and Cali was drawn like a moth to a flame. His teeth were straight, white, and sharp. She could imagine so clearly how they would feel attached to the base of her throat later tonight. A shiver ran down her spine. The man, Dmitry, he had finally offered (what a very Russian name. This guy must have been fresh off the boat.) also had a glint in his eye that spoke volumes. It claimed that there was more than simply bark to this dog; he would follow that dangerous smile with equally as perilous actions. Oh, how she was drawn in by that notion.

Dropping her eyes back down to the small glasses waiting for them on the bar counter, she licked her lips. Not for the alcohol, but for the man to her side. What fun it would be to play with him. He was oh so willing, if his body language and tone of voice were to be trusted. "Cali." Her eyes turned to look at the man though her head didn't turn. His self-assured, danger-promising smile was still burning acidic holes in her mind. "Nice to meet you, Dmitry."

OWL

[Iri]

We the animals take control

He carefully chose not to answer her question, instead fixing her with another dangerous smile. It certainly wouldn't go over well if he told her that he'd cast a spell on the bartender, effectively making her a slave to his will. Normal people didn't like that, didn't like the idea that someone could have such power at their disposal. To be able to completely and utterly take control over a person, just by knowing their name was a terrifying concept. It was taboo, even in the unit world, for a Fighter to use his abilities in such a way. It was strange how something that was so easy went against nearly all the rules. Dmitry had never been one to follow the rules, even when he'd been stuck as one of Vicktorya's pet Fighters. Personally he enjoyed using his powers, or rather he simply enjoyed being stronger. Being better. Being in control. But he couldn't tell her that, so he kept quiet.

Though when she mentioned his drink, the Fighter let his smirk falter for only a moment. He didn't particularly wish to keep drinking, he could already feel the effects of alcohol making its way through his system. He felt light and heavy at the same time. His senses buzzed, and his skin felt almost too warm in the crowded bar. But now that she'd noticed he couldn't just stop. It would raise too many suspicions, it might put her on guard and for some reason he really didn't want to do anything that might push her away. So to humor her, he reached for his drink and quirked up a single eyebrow as he brought it up to his lips. He debated downing the whole thing in one go, but decided against it and set it back down just under half full. Just as the bottom of the glass clinked against the bar top he whispered quickly under his breath in Russian, his lips barely moving and the sound hidden by the general noise of the lively bar around them. Though the words didn't need to be loud to take effect. Spells needed only be spoken to work, shouting or whispering didn't change how strong they were. No one even need to hear them. And in this case the bartender didn't even need to be within site for his spell and power to wash over her. She wouldn't interrupt them again, not unless the woman next to him signaled her over. He hoped that if the bartender didn't come by that he could keep Cali's mind off the fact that he planned to drink less than her.

"Cali..", he murmured, rolling her strange name over his tongue. Definitely not Japanese. Curious he let his eyes drift back over her face this time taking care to pick out all the little details. No, she was definitely not Japanese, perhaps European? The strange name would fit, though her accent gave nothing away. "French?" he finally guessed.

▲

okay this is the second time i typed this ● Cali ● Demy is OBLIVIOUS when legs and boobs are involved.

deltra of gangnam style

[Cali]

♔ @iri

Aaaaaand there it was. It seemed her handsome stranger had reached his limit, whatever said limit was. She watched with slight amusement as he sipped his shot and set the glass back on the counter. Who only took half a shot, anyway? But the drink wasn't what really caught her attention. The movement of his lips hadn't been lost on Cali, and even if she couldn't hear or make out the words, she saw their effect. For the first time since her arrival, Cali saw the bartender turn fully away from them.

Now, she wasn't the brightest, shiniest, sharpest glitter crayon in the box, but by no means was Calidane a stupid woman. She'd been through the Seven Moons training, studied how fighters and sacrifices worked and seen first hand what power simple words could have over someone. She'd never seen it happen on an innocent person, as that was taboo even in their fucked up little world, but the coincidence was too large to overlook. It was glaring, really. And she'd felt his ring, of that she was absolutely sure. So... she added two and two. A fighter. A rogue one it seemed, judging on his blatant disregard for their laws.

How dangerous.

Normally this would have scared her. A fighter in the underground, no sign of a sacrifice near, breaking the rules and not caring at all. Not to mention the fact that her willpower wasn't as overpowering as she would have liked it to be. It was a work in progress. But be it the shots or the gun in her handbag or the public setting teeming with innocents... she just wasn't afraid. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't instinctively get the urge to cover her name. Lightly, her left hand came up to stealthily fix her necklace and shirt, which would end up lying at just the right angle to hide any hint of the name between her breasts. Would it matter if she still took him home? Probably not. She'd still do that. But she wouldn't give up the secret until she knew she wasn't going to be attacked the moment he found out. Better safe than sorry.

She took the second shot and finished her black russian both.

"Do I seem French to you?" she asked with a breathy laugh, sliding the empty glasses to the other side of the counter top and hoping this Dmitry would let the bartender come back long enough to refill them. If she was going to hook up with a fighter, she was going to need a substantially larger amount of alcohol in her system. Two shots and a drink? Ha. "Do I sound French to you?" She turned her full attention back to the man at her side, fixing him with a playful smirk and tucking a piece of her hair back behind her ear. Body language... "Guess again, I'll let you know when you get it right."

OWL

[Iri]

We the animals take control

Dmitry's fingers toyed with his glass idly , his eyes following the path of her hand as it brushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. From there he let his gaze travel down the curve of her neck and to the swell of the top of her breasts. Just enough cleavage showing to tease him. To say that he was looking forward to potentially bringing her home would be an understatement. Everything about her seemed so appealing to him, as if she had been created exactly to his liking. Every last detail, from those shapely legs to the sound of her voice even, was perfect. Almost like he'd hand picked each of her qualities himself. He shifted his legs, adjusting just slightly to compensate for the fact that his jeans were starting to feel tighter.

"Pretty necklace," his lips tilted a bit and he returned his gaze back to her eyes. Not in the least bit ashamed at having been caught staring. She had a nice rack, it was practically a compliment. 

Circling his fingers back around his glass he lifted it and finished the rest off, without even thing about it. Momentarily forgetting about his own choice to quit drinking for the night. She was making him feel too comfortable, and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was simply her but he couldn't seem to keep her off his mind. He'd only just met her, and normally he was much more reserved, more cautious, but this just felt right. It was all too easy to get lost in her presence. God, he hoped it was just the alcohol. 

He set the glass down, and then immediately picked up the shot next to it the shot she'd gotten him, and downed it just the same before pushing both empty glasses towards the edge of the counter so the bartender could pick them up when she passed. The spell would allow that much, she just wouldn't bring him a refill. Not unless he directly spoke to her. 

"American, then?" He finally guessed again. It was the next obvious choice. The accent fit, and her bold, unafraid attitude seemed more in line with that of American women. 

▲

I am the god of late replies. bow before me ● Cali ● demy has a hard on and this reply is the only thing that's small. *cough*

deltra of gangnam style

[Cali]

You not only are hunted by others...

@iri New template.

Outfit. Song?

Her sharp eyes caught exactly how he looked at her, how he held the shotglass when he took the alcohol down, how his throat moved when he swallowed, and the teasing way he pulled his fingertip around the lip of the emptied drink - like he knew he was stirring urges within her from that slight movement itself. She'd caught him staring for a second time, and he was just as unapologetic as the first. The room suddenly felt ten degrees warmer than it had been when she'd initially entered.

The necklace itself was thick enough to rest against the first bold-scripted T in her true name and cover it completely. Cali wasn't shying away from his gaze this time; she wasn't looking down or turning away or even pretending to be shyly flattered. Dmitry had followed her lead in downing both of his drinks at once, and she was somewhat taking that as a challenge just as much as she was being reeled in by his cocky attitude. "Thanks." she hummed, not bothering to glance at the glassy-eyed bartender when she took their glasses but also silently indicating to the woman that she'd like another black Russian, "I designed it myself."

Her lips remained parted for just a moment after she spoke before Cali chuckled and closed them into a smile. "What gave it away?" she asked the man beside her after a moment of watching the bartender mix her another drink. "The bold attitude? I've found Japanese women tend to be so much more... meek." Her fingers barely brushed the bartender's as the other woman set her glass down and Cali picked it up. Inconsequential, but she could tell Dmitry was watching her equally as keenly as she was doing to him, and it was beautifully obvious by how he was beginning to squirm that she was getting under his skin. Was he imagining his own flesh beneath her fingers? Was he envisioning what they would possibly be doing in just a few hours time? Oh, how she hoped so...

Cali took a long sip from her glass before she spoke again.

"What brought you all the way here from Russia, Dmitry?" She didn't need more than one guess. Everything about the man screamed that he was foreign, and with the accent, the name, and the penchant for vodka... well. She knew she was right.

...YOU UNKNOWINGLY HUNT YOURSELF.

^{Template by Ira of 552.}