Damn sophisticated bear.
The sudden playfulness of his associate left Philip with a rather confused smirk. He had not expected such a sudden change of heart from the woman who had coldly ignored him the night before, and yet here she was, teasing and playing with the man as if he were a child in her eyes. He found the change of pace to be a pleasant one, if only because it made flirting easier and, in honesty, anything that made the woman a more mysterious puzzle was something that instantly appealed to the master thief. He felt her 'brush' against him and only smiled. Her hands were not idle: nor were his though.
Sitting opposite the woman who had captivated his interest, he listened to the woman's small threat: a broad grin having formed on his lips. Whilst she adjusted her newly acquired locket: Philip held something rather surprising in his hands: a hair ornament, more specifically hers. His Cheshire cat expression made him seem more like a Trickster figure than a hero, like so many of the League's assets. The distance he had from them was obvious.
"My dear, If ever I've taken something of yours, you have but to ask for its return: and it's yours. As for your threat, I don't mind the first and third clauses at all...’love'." The irony in his voice was a playful jab: he was testing the new found joviality of Jasmine: Testing to see if this was some plot or ploy. He offered the woman her hair ornament back to her.
"It's also probably fair to say I could steal your garter belt without you noticing. Generally I'd prefer it if you have a recollection of the act though, I do admit."
Philip chuckled lightly as he thought to the joy he was going to get from this journey. What a thrill this was already turning out to be.
The carriage would end, despite the condition of it's passengers, at London's main Train Station. The place was bustling and full of people and sights that reminded Philip of his 'youth'. The way to get to Romania was pretty obvious, the pair would take a train to some port city: Dover or some ilk: then they'd need to ferry across the Channel. It would take a long time, and Philip relished the opportunity to clash wit and wills with Jasmine. As they strolled through the station, Philip was in his element, relieving hapless individuals of items they didn't think possible to lose. At one point, Philip even held a ring, topped with a dazzling emerald. Giving a wink to Jasmine, he handed it to her, letting her do what she will with his ill-gotten gains.
"So tell me, Jasmine. What makes you extraordinary? Apart from your ravishing appearance and a sharp wit, of course?"
Don't deny me...
Jasmine smirked as she looked across the carriage at the handsome younger man, her lips full and red from her taking the time to stain them with gloss. She reached toward him and took her clip, pulling her long hair back up into a tight bun and shaking her head. “I will admit you are good at your craft. I must say, I wonder what else you might be good at.” She let her eyes move slowly across his young body, taking time to memorize the ebbs and flows of the muscles just below his clothing, their outline teasing and tantalizing.
She was an immortal seductress and over the years she’d learned to use her body as a weapon to get what she wanted and to protect herself at all costs. She could’ve die, but being tortured, as she had before and not being able to die was a fate much worse than the sweet release of death itself. She looked back over at him, his gaze confident and telling of his ability. He wanted to know more about her, but that would be a feat he’d fail at. She was a closed book and her past was long, painful and not open for probing of any sort.
They arrived at the train station a few minutes later and she slipped from the carriage with his help, her eyes moving around the station in an effort to watch for anything nefarious. Having lived a thousand lives, she knew a subtle movement before it happened, her skills impeccable. She looked at Philip as he slipped her a beautiful emerald, slipping it on her long finger and smiling at him.
“You do come in handing, don’t you, love?” She reached for his arm and moved him closer to her as they reached their train car, handing in their tickets and walking on board. She waited to answer his question until they were tucked into a small cabin of their own, her shutting the door behind her.
“I’m sure you mean to bed me with your slick tongue and handsome demeanor, but I’d rather you didn’t. I shall ruin you for all others with my skill and my touch, so save yourself the heartache.” She removed her coat and let her hair down, running her fingers through the sandy-blonde locks and sitting across from him. She crossed her legs slowly and smiled at him. “I’ve lived many lives, Philip. I’m not extraordinary, I’m damned.”
Damn sophisticated bear.
Sitting in the carriage, having been given a variety of mixed messages by his business partner, Philip pondered her words with the cocky smile he normally wore so well and continued to do so. When she mentioned how she'd 'ruin him for others' he just laughed a little bit. "Ah, but Madame, life is such a fickle thing. I might live another year, or another hundred. I'd be glad to add the memory of you tainting my lust with your talents for that last deathbed viewing." Smirking at the thought, Young Philip simply gripped a small silver pocket blade; another trinket he'd stolen from an unknown passer-by. It was a simple thing really, yet it had a certain majestic quality to it: Simple yet so mysteriously handsome. He looked into the shiny silver, pondering something in his own mind, something secret and mysterious and all together enigmatic.
"You say you're damned? The amount of times I hear that now-a-days is extraordinary. I've heard people accuse me of being damned, I've seen men in our own league say they are damned, or have sold their souls to the devil..." With a smile, Philip moved closer to the beauty next to him, a hand rising to stroke her cheek as if she were a delicate flower: acting the tender sort for now. He moved that same hand down to gently pluck hers up, kissing her hand with a delightful peck, filled with subtle promises, yet tempered by patience: despite the overbearing desire to pounce, to rip off her clothes with his teeth as a lion would feast on its prey's flesh. The only thing keeping him at bay was not being one-hundred per cent sure that he was not the gazelle in this metaphor. "...And yet I have not met a single one who has been anything less than fascinating. I doubt you'll break the trend though, will you? I imagine whatever makes you damned is another thing that will enthral me. As well as how you claim you're so 'damned' good in bed."
Philip looked over her body, the temptress was certainly fitted with all the right tools, and she seemed to be flaunting more than just her body. To him, she was proving a worthy clash of minds as well. Anyone could be a fine ass and a good pair of tits, but already this woman was proving more than of a package than the parts he got to look at, not that he minded the view. She was proving to be more complex and thought provoking than that, and the thought of the challenge she presented was almost as enjoyable as her presence, although nowhere near as enjoyable as the mental images he could conjure.
With the vain hope of distracting himself from the sex which his body craved, Philip cleared his throat and moved in closer, whispering something into her ears. Ironic that his most clear minded thought, the one least associated with a procreative desire was also the action that could be seen as the most daring so far. His words were astounding, something that he'd thought he'd figured out from just a few hints. His question was a said with a Cheshire cat's smile. "How old are you?" The question was filled with implications; Immortal implications even. He had picked up a few things she'd said, and now: he was almost certain that she was far older than she looked. It was just little hints really; how she spoke of 'Eternity' and her 'Many lives'. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on his parts, but considering some of the people he'd met at the league's expense, it was certainly not impossible...
Don't deny me...
He was rather intelligent and cunning with his words and meaning as he breezed through the conversation they had, a teasing of the wills between two very dominate people. He seemed to love life and she rather hated it, but the idea of letting it slip away and resting finally was not a choice she had. If only she could obtain her painting and then she might be able to consider walking from this world to the next. Having lived through the death of all those she’d loved over and over again, she was weary and the bright mirth that once shined deep in her soul and resonated from her beautiful eyes was dimmed.
She couldn’t however help but smirk at the cock bastard that sat across from her. Before she answered any of his questions, she had a few of her own. But she thought it wise to placate him as best as possible until she could ask her own, giving her a greater chance of him actually responding with a valid answer that might lead her to better understand him as he was quite a perplexing individual at present.
He reached out to touch her and she moved not, but pressed against his hand, her eyes closing briefly, allowing him to be the lover she missed so much from his death that seemed inevitable each life. She opened her eyes and stared into his soul, turning her head just a little and pressing a sensuous kiss on his palm before letting his hand drop from her, the smell of desire rising in the small cart, making her clothes seem tight and uncomfortable, her body heated and needy.
He moved closer and pressed his lips to her ear, a smile touching her pretty mouth at his clever advances, knowing that the young man wanted an adventure and hoped to find it underneath the many buttons and clasps that held together her beautiful dress. He asked of her age and she caught the back of his head as he moved back, her hand holding him still as she turned his face toward hers and let her eyes move over his fine features, down to his lips before licking her own. She leaned forward and sucked his bottom lip into the warmth of her mouth moaning a little and letting it slide back out - slowly, the look on her beautiful face on of unbound ecstasy.
“Old enough.” She moved back and ran her hands down her dress, clearing her throat as if nothing had occurred.
“Now, Philip, do you actually own anything on your being or have you stolen everything that you hold close? Is anything of sentimental value to you or is everything just a meaningless trinket? Do you value anything?”
Damn sophisticated bear.
Whereas the two had only clashed mind before, a simple battle of electronic impulses of the brain, it was when the two touched that electricity seemed to torch the atmosphere, turning the cart from intellectual clashing grounds into an enclosed space where the very air was heady with an intoxicating space of desire. What started with Philip's tender touches and slight advances, testing the waters as it were, soon evolved into far more passionate advances. It was Jasmine who made the first 'surprise' move. Her lips gently took control of his bottom lip, subjugating it with an ease that should probably have worried Philip slightly. Instead of worry, Philip could only be swept up in the moment of desire as she sucked on his lip, absorbing it into warmth that forced more illicit thoughts into his mind that he cared to share. The moans certainly helped those very same illicit thoughts, and Philip couldn't help but memorise it, as well as the unabridged, raw desire on her face which painted her beautiful features in a way that Philip would strive to make a more common occurrence very, very soon.
Her ability to almost immediately dispel the face of desire she wore made Philip realise just how good she was at her 'job'. Temptress indeed, he was not only tempted, for a moment he had been downright enthralled. For just a second, she had controlled his thoughts like a marionette. Something he'd have to make sure wouldn't happen again. Not that he would mind if it did, he simply preferred being in control.
Her next question caught him slightly off guard. After the intensity of her previous actions, she had thrown out a sort of blind jab. He couldn't help but chuckle at the seeming random change of direction. She was indeed proving an interesting one. "What an interesting question. It's loaded with interesting points really, things like; what is Ownership? What is valuable to me as an individual? I could answer that question in a million different ways and never be wrong." Philip reached into his pocket, pulling something out that was seemingly out of place for the otherwise sophisticated palate of the master thief. It was a tattered ten pound note, old and battered and otherwise worse for wear. "I guess the best answer would be this...I value things by the value others give them. Take this note here..." he waves the ten pound note lightly in the air, his smile never changing. "To some, me included, it is an insignificant sum that I could throw away without hesitation. But to others, this is food for a month: enough to sell a child for even." the thief smiled, depositing the note back into his pocket. "Value is relative."
The intensity that the thief spoke with for a moment, the philosophical words were almost out of character for the thief, made him appear almost personally invested in the little story he'd shared. It wouldn't take a genius to realise that somewhere in that little anecdote of his, he was the child, sold for a meagre fee. He didn't doubt that the woman would guess that, it was a fact he would happily give away because hell, the story was not an uncommon one. Child sold for small fee was not uncommon in the poorer worlds. Philip just worked it better than most.
"Out of curiosity, does it count if I used the funds I made from stealing to buy my 'precious things'?" The intensity was gone as Philip let his jovial nature shine forth again, a joke to end the rather sad question seemed so perfectly in nature for the thief. So playful and so right: as if it were part of his nature.
"Well then, I guess it's my turn to ask a question: Why are you in the league? I've heard of people who are forced to the league by circumstances, some who flock to it, and other stories beside. What reason does the lovely Jasmine have to be in the league?"
Don't deny me...
Jasmine listened to him twist his words and pussyfoot around her question, never really getting to the heart of the matter. She smiled and leaned back, the taste of him still on her tongue. She’d not completely ruled out taking him to her bed as she enjoyed a good roll in the sheets as well as the next woman, but she was quite a demanding lover and needed to make sure that before she wasted her time getting naked and seducing him, he’d be worth the ride – literally. She shook her head at him, soft ‘tsks’ coming from her full lips.
“I hear your words, but that ten pound note is valued ten pounds and will by for you what it will buy for me. How much you value and cherish it could change based on situation and circumstance, but my question was more along the lines of you taking items, trinkets as if it is a simply parlor trick to take from those that perhaps have something more than monetary value in those items. Someone might have given them that watch and then passed.” She sat up as the attendant announced that dinner would be served in the next cabin over. “There are some things that are completely priceless and would not be give a monetary value of any sort. I assure you that you are stealing hope and joy and memories more than trinkets, but it takes maturity to assess that I suppose.”
His next question was one that caused her to feel the pull of her age, the weight of her curse. “I am a slave to the league Philip and I care not for this adventure or the next because I will still be a slave long after you’ve had children and grandchildren and they’ve done the same.” She smiled as sadness tugged at the corner of her eyes. “They hold something that is priceless to me and for that I will forever be under their thumb.”
She stood and removed her coat, her dress sitting low on her full alabaster breasts as the soft curve of them rode just above the dark blue material. She touched her hair and looked in a small mirror, applying a bit more lipstick before moving to the next car to slide into a small seat and smile at the others that were already sitting. The seat next to her would be for Philip and she noticed there really wasn’t much room for them to sit together, assuming that mostly families or couples shared such close quarters. She enjoyed the smell of his cologne the soft timbre of his voice and as such didn’t mind at all being pressed beside him, she only wished it were in more private accommodations.
Damn sophisticated bear.
Philip sighed as he pocketed the ten pound note again: clearly his point been misinterpreted in some way. It was understandable though, his philosophy was not exactly a simple one when it came to his thievery. Perhaps she was right though, perhaps he simply was too callous in what he took. Either way, it didn't matter because Philip would always be what he was: Philip. A leopard could not change his spots and a thief could not suddenly stop being a thief.
It was her next answers that enthralled him the most though. As Jasmine dubbed herself a slave: this free spirited temptress who inspired mixed feelings of confusion, desire and the simple thrill of good company: Philip felt an enkindled sense of distaste for the league. To think that the flower of freedom had been stripped from this woman was unthinkable, but his thoughts soon drifted into two divergent paths; two things having caught his attention from her conversation.
The first, and the most obvious, was the fact that she had admitted her immortality. Philip had guessed as much before, simply from what she had said and how she had said it during the conversations the two had shared. The fact that he had discovered an immortal made Philip's blood boil with a desire for not only Jasmine, but now the desire for knowledge. How did one become an Immortal? How long had Jasmine been alive? All these questions and more filled his head, swimming through the ocean that was his mind, constantly filling it's container, threatening to burst into new ideas and ever expanding locations.
The second thing that caught his attention was linked to the first, even if he himself did not know it yet. Just how did the league keep such a wild card in check? What had stopped this woman from simply boarding a train and leaving the country for some land far, far away? Philip couldn't imagine a place that she wouldn't be welcome, nor a bed she would be turned away from, yet something kept her rooted to the league. What bondage did they have around her? It was a curious mystery.
Soon though, after the conversation had ended and after a man had informed the pair that a meal was set for them in the next cart, Philip watched as Jasmine removed her coat, exposing more of her form. He watched with a slight smile on his face, trying to hide his desire with little effect or hope of success. When she left for the next cart, he followed soon after, not needing to be bid by her. The cart was a fairly tight place, with several other people sharing the cart. It was a shame that they wouldn't be in a more private place, none of his desires coincided with the public at this moment; he had no desire to pilfer, the conversations the two were sharing would not be for other's ears and he was pretty sure he'd be thrown off the train for attempting any of the more roguish thoughts swimming around his head.
As he was sat down next to Jasmine, unashamedly squeezing against her, a thought crossed his mind and he decided to have some fun whilst the two sat on the train, waiting for their food. Looking over at an obvious family opposite them, Philip grabbed Jasmine's hand, flashing a devilish grin for a moment, exposed only to Jasmine.
"So are you two together? I and my darling are on our honeymoon."
The thief smiled with a confident grin; lifting the hand he held hers with and, in the process, raising her own. On the end of her finger: his gift from this morning, the emerald ring. It was certainly magnificent enough for the facade that he'd suddenly conspired to devise. In some slight moment, Philip had managed to slip a golden band around his own finger, further cementing the facade. Just how far he had thought ahead might show then.
"It seems just like yesterday we met. Now we are heading to Romania together."
Turning to Jasmine, smiling broadly, Philip leaned over, his lips pressing lightly against her neck. At first the kiss was tame, to seem like the romantic play of a newly wed: then his lips parted, and without a moment's notice, he was marking his 'wife': A light love bite for Jasmine. It was clear that the Philip only intended to please; to try and instil some of the desire that she had instilled to him. He had to resist pouncing on her even now, so if she was in such a state: barely holding back undignified displays of desire, then his work would be done.
Don't deny me...
Jasmine smirked over at Philip as he squeezed in beside her, the musky smell of his cologne and skin combined to create something quite delicious. She breathed in subtly as he began to talk, putting on a show for the people that sat across from them, or was it for her? She played a long a little, glad to have a reprieve from the monotony that had become her existence. She glanced at her finger, having felt the moment he added the ring to both of their fingers. She smiled like a lovely wife and turned to give him her attention as he pranced about – quite well if she said so herself.
He leaned over and the soft brush of his lips caused her breath to catch. She’d had many lovers over her lifetimes, but something about this man beckoned her. He bit into her throat and she moaned softly, her eyes closing just a bit and her fingers ran though his hair, grabbing tight at the back and pulling him up, his teeth marking her beautiful porcelain skin as a wicked smile touched her lips and she leaned forward, devouring his mouth as the couple across from them sat wide-eyed and shocked at the display. She licked and bit, sucking and kissed at his lips until they were both breathless and their mouths were swollen.
She pulled back and smiled, kissed the tip of his nose and turned back toward the couple, pulling her napkin into her lap and reaching for the pot of hot tea that awaited them. “So yes… we are on our honeymoon and looking forward to a trip just the two of us. And what about the both of you?”
The woman just stared at Philip, her eyes wide and full of wonder. Jasmine had seen the look a million times. She was bored with her marriage and whatever passion or excitements that had once seized the couple were now all but gone and buried. The man’s eyes moved across Jasmine, a tent in his pants showing that he was more than turned on by the couples display. He stuttered something about going to visit his wife’s parents and shifted around a bit, trying to seem less obvious, his own napkin covering his lap. Jasmine poured a cup of tea for her and Philip, moving forward on their chair a little to give him more room.
She offered him his cup and then leaned back a little, the back of her left shoulder pressed tightly to the front of his right. She sipped at her tea while her left hand slid up and down his thigh tightly, her nails racking across him a little here and there. The poor couple in front of them tried to make conversation, but they were a little too taken. Jasmine finished her tea and turned to Philip, her gaze full of promise as she slid her hand back up his thigh and cupped his crotch. “I’m ready to retire, my love. Come take care of me.” She squeezed softly and stood, excusing herself as she walked to their room with a smile on her lovely full lips.
The boy wanted to play… game on.
Damn sophisticated bear.
If the game had started out under Philip's rules, they quickly devolved into a trap, surrounding him and enclosing like a cage. He had started off in control, a gentle tease here and a subtle but delicious nibble on her smooth, delectable nape. Yet soon the game was a two player affair, her hands roaming along his thigh, teasing and testing the water, tempting a reaction and tantalizing his desire. As she poured the two of them a tea, Philip was happy to take a cup for himself and enjoying the tight, intermingling intimacy between the couple. She had pinned down his right arm with her left shoulder, giving her free reign to dominate and tantalize his leg. All he could do was sip the tea with his free left hand, trying very desperately to not end up tenting like the poor soul opposite him. Something he had not proven overtly effective at.
The facade was ended when she stood up, cupping him with an unabashed desire and forcing him to nearly drop the tea all over himself. “I’m ready to retire, my love. Come take care of me.” The offer did not need to be repeated, and as soon as she departed, he popped the tea on the table, nodding politely to the couple opposite him who were almost in a cold sweat at the display. He tried to say something, but words escaped him as his mind was fixated upon the woman outside.
He followed her quickly, watching the steady sway of her hips as she moved to the cabin they shared. Philip's restrain lasted about as long as it took to get to their door, before he pounced: Unable to hold back any longer. He firmly gripped Jasmine's shoulder, spinning her around and pressing her back into the wall. He didn't pause to exchange words, didn't wait to make some witty remark or teasing gesture. He just moved forward, arms wrapping gently around her hips as he brought his lips to hers. Hungrily kissing the woman whom he'd lusted after since their first meeting. His lips parted nearly instantly, teeth nibbling her lips sumptuously, trying to gauge her own desire before he made a terrible mistake. He'd already let his guard down, he'd at least try and save some face before moving on to a far less gentlemanly act than he thought capable of. He'd already let himself be dominated by desire, now he just had to avoid getting consumed by it. Not that it was likely he could stop himself.