GreenGrenade — Roleplayer Guild

{BlackSam | GreenGrenade}

Simone's silent watching was disturbed by one of the twins, Siamese. Maybe the rest of the team hadn't taken the time to figure out a way to discern between the two, but Simone had. When one could make a shotgun outta an orangepeel and fairydust, and the other could turn a popgun into a surface-to-air missle launcher, it paid to be able to tell which was which. And besides, their hairstyles were so drastically different it really didn't take a genius. 

Simone made a heroic effort not to sigh at the intrusion before turning to the twin.

"It wasn't great. One hostile gave us the slip while the other nearly drew the curtains on ol' bulletshield over there." She answered, lazily gesturing with her ciggie towards Sentinel in case  Sia didn't know who she meant by 'bulletshield'.

The world was spinning, and Luke was at the top. Following the discovery that he was attracted to Evan, he'd decided to process the new info with a variety of different drinks; mead, whiskey and the Australian's best friend, beer, all extracted from the fridge. He could have sworn that that thing was an alcohol dispenser. After a thorough rummage, he was certain that it was all it had. Not that he was complaining. There was a party to be had, and he was going to be its king. 

He was feeling confident. No one had anything on him. Accelerate? Luke could beat him in a race any day. Evan? He had nothing on Luke. Compared to him, the guy was nothing but a wet dog. And Sentinel? Well, that guy could go stick his angst somewhere else. No one was going to cramp Luke's style. Not on his watch.

Off in the distance, he could make out someone sitting on a bar stool. They were smoking a cigarette. Who was that? Upon closer inspection, he realised that it was Simonera. Pistolemone. Simone. Whatever. And suddenly, there were two of her. How was that possible? Was he really that drunk? Wait, no. It was one of the Lock and Load twins. Which one, he wasn't sure. He never could tell, and anyway, who cares? She looked cute. He was going to talk to her. Mustering up as much gusto as he could, Luke swaggered his way over there, his chest out and smile wide. The girl on the stool. That's who he wanted to talk to.

"Hey," he said. "I'm Luke. Luke Nelson. I don't believe we've met before." Best pickup line ever.

The second time she was interrupted she did sigh. It was a good one, long and full of her frustration and thinly veiled contempt for the person interrupting her. Cards on the table, she'd practiced sighing, just to get the best bang for her buck. She'd practiced so the sigh would say 'fuck off' without her having too. Though when she looked round and seen just how bleary eyed Luke Nelson was she realized that the sigh wasn't going to cut it this time.

Simone twisted on her stool until she was facing him, taking a deep drag of her ciggie while she did. Then, face to face with Sandstorm, she blew all the inhaled smoke into his face. 

"I believe we have met before Luke. I remember not being all that impressed then either." 

The smoke blasted into Luke, and it was all he could do not to start coughing. What was this girl's problem? Why was she smoking? As far as he knew, the twins didn't indulge in that habit. He supposed they could have started doing so recently. Oh well. That wasn't what concerned him. What concerned him was the girl's reply. Everyone was impressed with Luke. What made this girl so different? Absolutely nothing.

"I'll have you know that I am a very impressive guy. I can do over three hundred pushups with only a little break in-between. I bet Sentinel can't do that, can he? Hey, did I mention that you have really pretty eyes?"

She had to admit, she admired his tenacity. Not many guys could take a rejection of that magnitude and keep soldiering on. That said, the alcohol was probably helping him. She considered getting up off her chair and leaving, otherwise she'd be dealing with this particular impressive guy all night, but when she went to get up she caught a glance of Evan. Feelings of lust threatened to consume her, bubbling up from deep within her nethers. Her eyes began to trace his golden skin, lingering upon his muscular arms, his chiseled abs, his. . . 

. . . Jesus, what was wrong with her! Every time she even glanced in his direction all she could think of was sex. She was better than that, so much better. She refused to be some wilting rose for that arrogant Godling to eventually conquer. She had her own objectives to achieve within this team, and becoming a 'notch' on his bedpost wouldn't help them. Hell, they might just endanger them. No, she had to stop this 'crush', sooner rather than later. Marshalling her all determination and willpower she began to turn in his direction once more, promising herself she'd stay in control this time. 

Ten seconds later, flushed and breathing heavily, she was forced to concede that she wasn't going to be able to quit Evan with just willpower alone. No, this would take a different tactic. She'd have to be cunning about this. Come at it from a new angle. But what?

Then it hit her. The answer might be standing right in front of her. She turned sly eyes towards Luke.

"Oh yeah, you're right, you are really impressive Luke. I can't believe I missed it before. So, let's cut to the chase here. What are you looking for?"

Luke grinned. He knew she'd see the light. "I think I'd like some chitty-chitty bang-bang, if you know what I mean?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Damn, he was seductive.

Well, well, well. Luke wasn't half as shy as she'd had him pegged. That said, he did have half a brewery running through his veins, so she doubted this silver-tongued lothario was really indicative of who he really was. Still, it meant she didn't have to beat around the bush anymore. See, Luke was going to act as the methadone to her Evan like heroin addiction. A little something to help ween her off the demi-god. At least she hoped it would work like that.

"Well, what an enticing offer. Who am I to turn such an impressive guy down." She rose slowly from her stool, drawing her fingernails languorously across his jaw line. She toyed with sacheting her hips seductively while walking away, but really, what would be the point? The fish was already in the boat, no point baiting the hook anymore. 

"Well, you coming lover-boy?" She beckoned, making for the sleeping quarters.
GreenGrenade Member

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts
