Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 22, 2018 19:25:31 GMT
"Sophia." Buster repeated. His voice trailed off and seemed to lull to a luster. It sounded like he was quietly mulling it over like he was trying to determine if he had ever heard it before. Of course he didn't know her. He did, but he didn't know that. They were already acquainted but only she knew of their past meeting. Buster took his drink and followed her over. He wasn't flashy and flaunting his powers here. No, Buster usually didn't display his freaky speed when searching for a hookup. He wanted to appear as normal as possible. Most chicks seemed to frown upon the whole mutant thing. Even the most viverant mutant rights activists tended to shy away from the possibility of getting knocked up by a mutant one night stand. We're all special and deserve equal rights. I just don't want to hit that.
Buster moved to the table with a cocky confident stride. slipping the jacket from his shoulders he laid it across another table. His tight fitting black shirt clung to his small tight frame. Buster ran his fingers through his hair and looked at his choices. These sticks all looked the same. He grabbed the first one his fingers fell upon and began to chalk it. He listened to her proposal as he grinned with a harsh smile. She had no idea what she was in for. Buster was actually quiet good at pool. He spent lots of time in the club playing the boys. The Fools were all about gambling. Of course high stakes pool was on the table. Any gambling was always on the table. Buster set the chalk down and allowed her to break. He leaned on his stick wrapping his arms around it and holding it close to his chest as she leaned over the table.
Plucking a cigarette from behind his ear he put it in his mouth and lit it up. He chuckled at her clumsy break. This was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. Buster exhaled a cloud of smoke that flowed around his head. The dingy light above the table swayed quietly above them. The all but absent vibrations from the loud music gently pushing the hanging fixture; causing the light to move across the table. Shadows casting this way and that as Buster moved around the table like a hungry shark. She wanted $500? Pretty steep. What he got in return would have to be equally valuable. Buster allowed his eyes to glide over her form as she leaned over the table to pick up the chalk. Equally valuable indeed. He thought.
"Tell you what. I'll let you know what I want when I win." Buster declared. The cigarette bounced on his lips with every muffled word. Buster squinted his eyes and leaned over the table. "Corner pocket." He said confidently. Buster's shot was fucked. The cue was lined up with a red ball in front of a stripped ball. Buster leaned in and aimed. He cracked the cue ball and bounced his shot. The red ball hopped over the stripped one and flowed neatly into the corner pocket that he had called out. Buster smiled and moved around the table. He was a pool shark himself. Though, he was more like a piranha.
Buster moved around the table and passed Sophia. There was a narrow walkway at the table. There were several other tables lined up around them. Buster had to squeeze his way past her. Her cold bitchy nature did little to dissuade him from his mission. To spend one meaningless empty night tangled in her cold embrace. As Buster passed her he pushed up against her. He breathed in. His senses were hit with a tangled mix of her perfume and his cigarette smoke. It blurred together in a mixture that reminded him of a cross between the clubhouse and a high priced call girl. At $500 a game she kind of was. Buster smiled as he shuffled past, taking his time. "Excuse me darlin. Need to make this shot here."
Buster knew what he was doing. He was an asshole and he knew it, but he had his charms about him. Buster picked up his drink and took a sip. Setting it back down he bounced his next shot off a side bumper before cracking another ball and sinking another two solids. Split shot. One ball went into one corner pocket the other into the other. Buster wasn't sweating. Buster wasn't worried at all. He figured he'd at least give the little lady a fighting chance. Buster thought about it for a moment and then decided against it. Instead he sank two more after that. It wouldn't be her turn again until he missed. Buster was clearing the table. Every shot lining up for him perfectly.
"Nervous?" Buster asked. He took another puff of his cigarette and put it out in someone else's beer. The man turned to argue about it, but he saw Buster's cold face and the logo on the leather jacket on the table and quickly turned back around and said nothing. Buster smiled. Nothing pleased him more than that feeling of respect that flowed through him when he was backing down some pushover. Well almost nothing. Buster's eyes began to wander again. This time on the silky smooth nature of her long, long legs. Yeah, he only had to sink a few more shots and those legs would be wrapped around his head. This was Buster's game and he called the shots. He sank the last ball and only had the eightball to deal with.
"Sorry Just wasn't your night." Buster smirked and sank the eightball. He set the stick down and picked up his jacket. Laying the jacket squarely on his shoulders he reveled in the feeling of his familiar leather on his back once again. Buster sipped his drink and looked at her with a satisfied look on his face. "Looks like I win. So what is it I want." Buster said smugly sitting on the table behind him. He seemed to think about it for a minute before his smile faded. "Nothing. I want nothing at all." He said matter of factly. If they did end up writhing together in some palace of the flesh, it wouldn't be won on a bet and he wouldn't have forced it out of her. His ego needed that pleasure to be earned a certain way. "Enjoy the drink kid." Buster finished his drink with one final gulp and walked past her.
He knew that somewhere in that pretty head of hers he was inside there clawing at her mind. Women were easy to figure out. Act too interested and they became disinterested. Turn them down and it was like they had something to prove. They chased you and tried to seduce you. Like they had to prove they were good enough for you even if they never wanted you in the first place. And they say men were prideful. Buster walked passed her with cool indifference and gave her a wink as he stepped outside the club. He had saw out of the corner of his eye that Lulu was shutting the place down anyways. People were filing out and emptying out onto the street. Buster stood there under the street lamp digging in his pockets for another cigarette. The night was young.
He wasn't exactly happy to pass up such an inciting wadger. But he knew what he was doing. He breathed in the night air. It filled his lungs brisk and cold and he exhaled a cloud of hot breathe. Buster looked around and watched as the other people from the bar emptied out into the street. He knew any minute that Sophia would be coming out as well and he would be right here waiting for her. He was gearing himself up for the speach. "Just who in the hell do you think you are?" "What's your problem?" "Are you gay? Are you married?" He knew one of those were coming in one form or the other. He would just casually smile and wink at her and say that something witty in the moment. She was obviously having a bad night before he came along. She would have been feeling bitter and angry and looking to scorch the earth. He'd stand in the way of the flames if there was a fire to be lit tonight.
Post by Sophia Cromer on Apr 22, 2018 20:53:57 GMT
You can't trust anyone.
Everyone is out to use you or kill you.
tag - @someone
words - 0010
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So apparently she picked the wrong guy to hustle. He was cocky and arrogant. He used whatever excuse he could to brush by her and breath her in. Yeah her extra sensitive ears heard it and she could smell everything in this club. Her hands gripped the pool stick and she leaned on it while she sipped her drink. Ball after ball sunk into the pockets so fast that she wasn't even sure this was more than a dream.
In record time this game was over and he was saying how it just wasn't her night. Her eyes stayed on him as she waited to see what he wanted from this wager. If nothing else she wouldn't back down on her end of the bargain. Her face went blank when he said he didnt want anything out of the deal. Her eyes just blinked as she watched him put on that stupid leather jacket and walk away.
Was he expecting her to just run after him like some dumb drunken bar hopper? Seriously he had a done deal and he just walked on out and it made her mood even more frigid. With a deep sigh she chugged her drink and headed towards the exit since it was last call. Stepping outside into the nights air she watched people saunter off to other bars along the strip. Maybe that would be her next move as well.
Her amber eyes shifted and spotted buster standing outside like he was waiting for something. If he was waiting for her to beg then he was just shit out of luck. "Oh you much rather go home and wax the carrot?" She spoke as she roughly knocked into his shoulder upon passing him. There was a coldness to her tone as she walked towards a dark alley. There was a club that seemed interesting and she could see it on the other end of the darkness.
Maybe the guy was actually gay and trying to hide it by trying to hard to hit on women. Otherwise why would he dress like a walking talking bad boy out of a girls fantasy?
Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 23, 2018 0:08:38 GMT
Buster cupped his hands over a flamed lighter and was about to draw in that sweet sweet smoke when he heard her voice. She jeered him about wanting to go home and lets say get friendly with himself. Buster didn't light the cigarette. Instead his hands lowered and the cigarette just hung from his lips. He stared stupidly after her. She walked by with a i don't givea damn attitude and a swish on her hips. Buster watched the swish and took a deep gulp. He realized what he just passed up."Well fuck." He said out loud. He was sure that was going to work. It worked plenty of times before. Even with the not so warm fish. This one was definitely a cold fish.
Buster saw her crossing the street. "Get over yourself! Your not a tough act to follow." He called after her. He decided if she was going to stand him up she'd be leaving here tonight with at least some wounded pride. He wanted her to mend like he had to mend his bruised ego. His voice didn't sound all that convincing as he called out to her. He hadn't been that shot down like that in awhile. He tried to act all tough about. Buster tried to act as if it didn't really bother him, but it kind of did. He was damaged and dysfunctional, but he came in a shiny package. That package was used to getting what he wanted.
His voice kind of tapered off and sounded as if he himself didn't believe his own words. It was weak, wavering and it lacked true conviction. Sophia stood in the street a moment waiting for the cars to let her past. She was standing in the middle of the street not caring to wait on the sidewalk with Buster before she crossed. Apparently she'd rather cross the street frogger style. Crazy ass chick. He thought with a biter hint to his mind's voice.
Buster watched her with that cigarette still hanging from his lips. He watched her with a vacant look on his face and a tinge of regret circling the iris of his eye. That's when some Mormon guy in a shirt and tie came up to him with a flier. He was petitioning the club on the grounds that it was a house of ill refute. These guys were getting desperate it seemed. "Have you heard the word of your lord?" Buster was pulled away from the fading visage of his potential hookup for a moment. He looked over at the guy. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" He asked confused. "Our lord? Jesus Christ?" He gave Buster an equally confused look. As if Buster was somehow in the wrong for not expecting some random asshole to peddle his religion on him.
Buster didn't exactly mind being a mutant, but he never put much faith in a god that would single him out and make him different. Make him part of the thing that everyone was afraid of. For some reason it twisted an anger within him. "Fuck Off you little twerp!" He all but screamed in his face. The man scoffed and turned around to hand a flier to someone else coming out of the club. Buster turned back to see the last of her figure disappearing into an alley. He sighed. Well that was that. He was about to turn around when he saw three hooded men following her down that alley. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He got that feeling that they weren't trying to ask her about her lord and savior. They had worse intentions.
"Fucking hell." He said and took the cigarette out of his mouth. Buster ran across the street, at normal speed. He didn't want to use his powers. Not here. Not out in the open. Besides he wouldn't need to to handle three low life assholes with nothing better to do on a Saturday night than stalk women in alley ways. Buster was fast. Even without his power. He ran across the street causing several cars to swerve an honk but he didn't care. His jacket flew in the wind behind him like the wings of a crazy black bat. His hair was slick and wet looked and the light sweat on his face; from what he could only assume was nervousness sheened in the soft glow of the moon.
Buster made it there just in time to see the men grab her. She didn't even have time to scream before Buster was ripping them off of her with an angry growl. "You looking to be a hero asshole?" One of them asked. He stood toe to toe with Buster. One of them behind the main guy was holding a knife. Buster headbut the smart mouth motherfucker right in the face. He dropped to his knees holding his nose before Buster planted him to the cement with a right hook. The guy with the knife charged him. Buster dodged once, twice, the third time sliced his shirt. Buster hissed as pain cut threw his collarbone. He looked over to see that Sophia had hid behind a dumpster and watched from there. The light that poured into the little alleyway wasn't much. But it was enough to see the gun coming out of the third guy's pocket.
Buster didn't use his super speed, but he did use some of his agility. He ran up the wall and did a backflip. Landing behind the two guys he kicked one in the back of the knee. He dropped down to one knee. The second guy held out the gun. Buster bend backwards out of the way so his arm went past him and smacked his wrist. The gun went off in the alley. It hit some bricks somewhere up above his head. Buster bent the guy's arm back and broke it.
The guy on one knee tried to get up. Buster placed a foot on the back of his head and shoved him foward, face first into the brick wall. He didn't get back up. Buster looked back from him in time to see the guy point a gun at him again. It was a six shot revolver. He pulled the trigger. The hammer came flying back. Buster reached up and grabbed the gun before the hammer could slam in the cylinder and fire off the round. He gripped the gun tightly and squeezed. He pointed the gun down at the guy's own foot and let go. The round fired into the man's toe. "Beat it. Take your friends!"
Buster allowed them to leave. He was tired. Bleeding. His hair was fucked up and he had a pain in his shoulder. The men scrambled away. The third guy had to be woken up. Buster hit him with a kung pow fist that would have made Jackie Chan proud. He slumped against the wall. In all the excitement he forgot about the girl. He wasn't tired or exhausted but his shoulder hurt like hell. Part of the blade had broke off in his shoulder. He didn't even realize it. "You okay?" He managed to croak. It wasn't about getting laid now. Some dormant sense of nobility had kicked in. He usually chased damsels in short dresses. Not damsels in distress.
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As she walked away she could hear the words of a wounded puppy behind her. Obviously his little jerk attitude didn't work out the way he planned. Sure Sophia was all about instant gratification but only hers was important. She could find some other bad boy at another club the would gladly roll around with her. He shouted and a huge smirk just tugged at her lips when she stepped into the alley. A breeze passed her and the scent of alcohol filled her nose.
Her pace kept up and she heard mean come behind her and one started whistling at her. They were all making an ass of themselves and she was about ready to make the regret it. Her eyes started to glow in a bright golden amber. One of the men grabbed her and she turned her head with a angry look on her face. Though before she really got a chance to shift and be the karma that bit them in the ass.
Wounded pride man came to her rescue which stopped her shift. "Dammit." Her voice muttered under her breath since she couldn't blow her cover. Instead now she moved away from the chaos and watched from the other side of a dumpster. For a little guy he could fight and typically she would defend herself but he volunteered to play hero. It was three against one and he did a good job of handling them.
It wasn't even a long fight but the skinny leather jacket wearing guy held his own. Finally the three mongrels left and Sophia moved around the dumpster. "You look like shit." There was a bit of a smirk on her lips but she did have a softer expression to her eyes. The sound of sirens came into her ears and she grabbed Busters hand. Heading back up towards the street she Hailed a cab and basically pushed Buster inside.
"Where to lady?" The Cab driver asked with a gruff tone. "Drugstore two blocks down then the Golden Cherry Hotel." She spoke and handed the guy some money. Leaning back in the seat she shifted a bit and pulled the jacket away from his shoulder. She could smell the extra metal in the wound and her fingers pushed on the wound a bit. "Looks like you got a souvenir." Her words weren't cold and bitter but more soft.
When they stopped at the corner drugstore she ran inside and grabbed a bunch of first aid supplies as well as some cheap vodka. Getting back in the cab it was much long and she was slipping cash to the hotel clerk and getting a key. Once they were in the room she slipped out of her jacket and moved a chair over to buster on the bed. Handing him the bottle of vodka her fingers tugged the jacket off of him and the shirt followed.
She wasn't quiet as she patched up the wound and did it as gentle as she could. After years of patching up her own wounds she knew how much it sucked. When it was done she grabbed the bottle of vodka and stepped back towards the dresser. Leaning against it she turned the bottle up and then coughed from the burn. "Didn't really take you for the knight in shining armor type."
There was a bit of a smirk on her lips as she crossed her legs in front of her. Her frame leaned against the dresser as her eyes locked on his. "So I guess I doubly owe you a favor." Sophia asked as she took another sip of vodka.
Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 24, 2018 1:41:26 GMT
The bad part about having super speed was that everything normal speed seemed so damn slow. Seriously. Buster could have got out and ran to the store quicker than this. And they were supposed to pay this asshole for this service? Man, what fucked up lives everyone must live. Buster groaned and shifted in his seat as Sophia took a look at his ouchies. They weren't so bad. His fast healing cells were already trying to close up over the knife blade. Thankfully all her poking and prodding had kept that wound pretty fresh. Seriously this chick had the bed side manner of the incredible hulk wearing oven mitts!
Buster was forced to sit awkwardly with the cabbie while Sophia ran inside the drug store to get all the necessary shit to patch his shoulder. There was several minutes of just long, heavy silence. Finally the cabbie turned around and asked Buster what the deal was. "Hey mahn, you got'tis fine young lady wit'chu. What's chur sekret?" Buster concealed the blood dripping in his shoulder under his jacket. He just didn't want to listen to the guy bitch about the possibility of him getting blood in his cab. Instead he seemed way more interested in what was under Sophia's tight dress, than what was under Buster's jacket. Buster smirked.
The cabbie was an older man, Jamaican with a little grey in his beard. Buster had noticed the man looking in his rear view mirror at them a lot. It was because of the saucy brunette and not the color red. Buster slouched over in the seat. He was seating and shaking slightly. Damn this hurt more than he remembered. It had been awhile since he had been stabbed. But usually he didn't fight without his powers. Why would he? What was the point of being a mutant if you couldn't lord it over inferior weaklings? Buster coughed and chuckled a bit. He shifted in the seat and pressed his hand to his aching shoulder. "You really want to know my secret man?
The cabbie nodded and leaned in anxiously. The cabbies eyes darted back to the store to see if Sophia was on her way back yet. She was not. Buster told the cabbie to lean forward. As if the knowledge he was about to impart on him was some closely guarded secret and he was entrusted with the safekeeping of such powerful wisdom. The cabbie drew closer. "The secret is.....Be a little asshole." The cabbie's eyebrows arched in curiosity. "An asshole?" Buster nodded. "Women love the badboys." Buster reassured him.
The cabbie smiled. The old Jamaican man took Buster's words in carefully. "American women are so complicated." He admitted. Then he saw a beautiful, classy lady crossing the street in front of his parked car. The cabbie leaned out the window to talk to her. Buster watched from the backseat with a sort of vested interest. "Hey! Woman! Are you headed to the movie theater?" She looked at him confused. "No why?" He replied back. "There is a monster movie there! You're late for the third act." "Fuck you asshole!" Buster laughed and lit a cigarette in the back of the cab. "Not exactly. You keep trying."
It was then that Sophia got back in the car and moments later they were at the hotel. Buster was hurting, but it wasn't all that bad. He was laying it on thick for the sympathy. He hung from here shoulder as if he could barely stand on his own. "Feeling a little wooooozy." He whispered in her ear in a sing songy tone. As she was checking in. They had their bags brought up by a bell boy and Buster allowed Sophia to handle everything. Hell, he took a knife for her. She could at least pay for the hotel. Even though she was actually paying with his money. Dames.
" Couldn't wait to get me out of my clothes afterall huh?" Buster was all grins and rocky smiles as she closed the door. She commented that he didn't seem like the knight in shining armor type. Buster took a sip of the vodka. "Yeah, I'm a regular prince charming." Buster took another swig of the liquor and winced a little as the blade came out of his shoulder. He laid back on the bed as she stood up and said that she owed him double. He supposed that was true. He supposed that was true enough. "You don't seem like the being in someone's debt type." He retorted. Throwing her own words right back to her in a different way. Buster wasn't sure what was going to happen here, but it was interesting to him at least.
Sitting up on his elbows he stared at her. He watched the way the soft light trickled down over her shoulders. That cold bitchy thing worked for her. It just did. Buster was always the one playing hard to get. It was new to him to be on the other side of that. He thought he had lost his opportunity, but fate threw them back together. Mainly because he was an idiot who couldn't mind his own damn business. She wasn't his girl. She wasn't his problem. Buster was no hero. Powers or not he was no hero. Buster never gave a damn about anyone before. That was still true. And it probably always would be.
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Sophia sipped on the alcohol and breathed in deep the scents filling the room. This place was some old cheap place where politicians bought their hookers. She could hear all the sounds of the surrounding rooms. Laughter, Sex and he scent of various drugs. Truth be told she hadn't gotten her hands on many drugs to try but they didn't really work on her anyway.
Because of her power this like that would run through her system and wear out in record time. "Prince Charming eh?" She let the words roll of her lips in this flat and un amused tone. Her tongue was clicking in her mouth as she let her gaze lock on him. "Does this look like a fairy tale?" Sophia asked before pushing off the dresser and moving towards the bed where he was laying.
Taking a drink of the vodka she set it on the night stand. As he set up she turned to him and her legs moved onto the bed to straddle his lap. "I'm not much one for being in debt." Her words were serious before her lips Pressed to his. Long fingers trailed over his bare shoulders as her body pressed into the kiss. This was something she had done before and many times.
Though typically it never went all the way because she tied them up. From there she would get dressed and rob them before heading out the door. The thought was crossing her mind now as her lips pulled from his. Just another poor sap to have a scam run on and she would vanish into the night lights of the city.
Leaning away from him she reached into a bag and pulled out a set of metal handcuffs before her gaze fell back on him. "I dont need Prince Charming...I need the dark knight." Sophia's words were a whisper as her lips teased at the flesh of his earlobe.
