July 12, 2002
hunting loose ends [sian-dahlila-dinah]

[atlantic city boardwalk]


(dinah)The steady tattoo of bootsoles against concrete drums at a slower tempo and Dinah slants a glance towards the cat-callers. Her smile is faint and she shakes her head, stride once more picking up to carry her beyond when the woebegone girl (there's just something) catches her eye and instead of walking away she approaches, easily, easily. "Are these your brothers?" she inquires her accent brushed in the rounded vowels of colonial british.

the boardwalk is walked, again, yards devoured beneath them, beneath each tandem step, an arm slung like a heavy snake across Sian's shoulders, guiding in the halfheart hunt.... their walk leads home, but should something catch their fancy.....

(dahlila ruiz)**Perfect eyebrows arch upward and those distinct, startling eyes look from one young man to the other before she lets out a slow head shake.
The other's won't let Dinah get in that close without a comment or two.**
"Why you wanna know about her, doll? Why not worry about us?"
"You're looking good tonight, you know that? I'd like to..."
"Don't mind these Cabrones. I'm what you been looking for all your life."

(dinah)"I see..." ...the womans voice is crisp, starched white linen [Blaze.] but not mellowed by some indistinct flavor which speaks of less rigidity. She smiles, very faintly, at the first one of the hispanic youths. "You three are looking for a party?" Before the daunting black of her eyes goes back to the girl. "..Are they bothering you?"

(dahlila)**She shakes her head again, full pouting lips remaining closed. Can't she speak? Maybe she's too afraid. Maybe she just doesn't want to. Either way the shaking head is all she offers in response.
The others are a different story.**
"Yeah, we're always looking for a party."
"We're regular party animals."
"Vamos a bailando, eh? I can show you some of my moves."
**For some reason they find the last comment rather funny.**

(dinah)Dinah's glance remains on Dahlia for a moment [full of portent, a thoughtful touch of dark eyes which are the gleaming backs of beatles reflecting stars] and then she lifts her shoulders by way of response. To the girls gesture, at any rate--to the boys?
"...Yes. Well. There's a dive a couple of streets over which doesn't look too closely at id's." Faint, the kiss of her smirk--so faint its hardly there.
"Good evening."
...and she turns, to continue on her way.
[The world STILL has its good samartins-- Shocking.]

(dahlila)"Hold on, baby."
**The smallest of the trio seems to be the boldest as he reaches out to grab her by the waist. The others give out a slight chuckle as he attempts to pull her back.**
"Why don't you stay here and have a good time with us?"

he fills his lungs with the scents of the boardwalk (so different from last night), his ears caught in the cadence of sound, mismatched eyes dazzled by the lights.....

two heads of the Hydra..... male and female, the Dancer and the Hunter, (the lust and the hunger), joined at the hip for this effervescent journey

though the scent (stagnant, rotting) enters his attention, those eyes, one dark, one light, rotating like radar to find where it lays, the loud boys (the loud toys).... and suddenly.... her..... a brow lifts at the girl caught in the middle, the woman walking away - or attempting to - arm shifting across Sian's shoulders to direct her gaze to overlap his

(dinah)The gold-skinned woman narrows her eyes at the (upstart kine..) youth; they do not gleam. Detaching herself with easy undulation from his seeking arm she tucks her own through his. "Tempting as that is, khiss abdul," mix and mesh, "I have somewhere to be. -You- can come, if you would like." ...such a smile as ever a predator wore.

Twists [--you until it] head in the direction of Dahlila slanting eyes of inky void, seeming to absorb her into the colorless slants, narrowing now, her body tensing briefly as two forms birth from the unified creature...

One with a certain direction.

(dinah)Her own eyes narrow faintly again as though in consternation though whether that was brought by this sudden revelation of topdawgsship or the means of the revelation, why, who is to say? Dinah glances around once (oh won't anybody help me--no, that isn't quite her style, self-composed and self-possessed as she is) and once her eyes land on the two siamese twins before slinking back to Dahlia.
"Thanks."

from within he pulls at a hidden chord, music spilling to whisper, like a serpant's echoing hiss just behind Dahlila's ear
(MS) If you run.... I will let her chase you.
nothing more than her voice of reason, yes? their path easy to cross the 'walk, a slow smile easing across his lips (how he would enjoy that hunt), as Omar stands to scurry away like a rat, filling his lungs with the scents of anticipation (and underlying fear)
"A word with you?"
the rest ignored, mismatched eyes on Dahlila alone

(dahlila)**She rushes over to the car already being prepared by Omar (Smallest upstart Kine), eyes fixed on the two heading their way.
Her boys were already in the car, two in the front, one in the back, and she held the door open, waiting for Dinah.**
"Get in the fucking car, trust me."
**Even with her now demanding voice, releasing delicate slips of anger, and the tattoo of an angel reaching down from her belly to, well, let's just say down; there's still that something.**

There's something about her, that's odd.[...we are always fasinated with our own demise.] A pretty girl, almost quiet, her tall well built frame seeming to pulse and [Aching for Amythyst. Violet swept Violence.] fade even as she edges to the side of the woman--instinctively flanking her.

(dinah)Confusion.
Dinah need not pretend it: in her (obsidian) eyes and in her (volcanic) hair and in the bow of her lips twisted just so. Perhaps she is wishing she'd never stopped...
[Walk On. Walk On.]
In any event (...and what happens when the hunter feels hunted...) she slides [But it's much quicker then a slide, more like a fall...] into the car.

(dahlila)**She stands to move over to the car when Omar freezes, and she does also. Something messing with her head, something in her mind.
She looks back at the two, still on their heavy aproach. Something about them...must have been a trick. She figured it from the first time she saw them. You don't just pull a knife on a...on a guy like Malcom like that. not without losing an arm. Not unless you had something of your own up your sleeve. And there's almost no end to the possibilities of all they had up their sleeves.**
"Are you coming, or not!" The tallest, Jose, calls out, breaking Dahlia from her trance.
Too late, they were already too close. She steps back slowly, attitude all over her small, petite face. The others follow in suit, closing off the ring (attack ring? Defensive ring? Guess-what-you're-fucked ring?) around the group, hands on their waistes, muscles tense.**
"Que pasa, mami?"

(dinah)Dinah curses (...under. breath.) a melodic thrumming undertow to the crowd and the quiet and the ocean in arabic, street-gutter-slang.
Door hanging open--she twists to watch whatever is going down go down.
And she should run, no doubt.

lips stretch into a smirk, amusement rendering a glimmering light in uneven eyes at the postulating stances of the boys, probably not a half-decade younger than he, affording them a glance, in turn, though those unsettling eyes never leave Dahlila for long
"In private."
his head tilts to an abandoned spot on the walk only a handful of yards away, confident Sian could rip the car in half should it annoy her, the soft fleshed boys pose little threat, she watching them as evenly as they watch her, silent

(dahlila)**She licks her lips and rubs at the small, gold stud in her nose. Startling brown eyes look from the man (man?) and the woman, (Not likely), and her crew of three, and finally the innocent hostage, err, bystander, Dinah.
A quick head motion and she moves over to the indicated spot. Two of the fellows keep their eyes on Sian, and another angles himself to watch Dahlila.**
"What's on your mind?"


(dinah)...and Dinah stretches her legs, though her dark eyes seem concerned when Dahlila decides to wander into privacy. (Best move, really...) And she rubs her leg absently, the lively voice of her @#*$#&ing muting...

a smooth, bare, glance to Sian (more communicated than words) and a move to join Dahlila the short distance away (to pity her seems to ignite a hunger deep inside of him), leaning in to murmur
"I know you were watching, last night. And I know you ran away, for the same reason that makes fear stink from your once living flesh. That makes you a loose end."
the look in his eyes betrays..... he does not like loose ends, the voice a silken croon, warm, velvet
"Now I can eradicate such a loose end."
feral's glance to indicate her boys, as well
"Unless you have a far more..... enticing.... proposition to tie up such an end, yet leave it intact."

(dahlila)**She listens to his words, but shows no reaction other than arching a perfect eyebrow at the word "fear". What fear? There was no fear. No room for fear. Yeah right, best to cut the schtik. How often do the patrol cars pass on this frikkin street?**
"I might have something in mind, if you tell me you intentions for our mutual friend: Chicago."

there's a deep chuckle (hyena's chortle), reading her scents as they change - she may be dead, but the pheromones in the blood she drinks beat like a telltale heart
"Were they that unclear?"
the amusement rises in his game, at the quip, head shaking to dismiss the jest
"Nothing dire. Only business."
though something in his gaze speaks his intentions for her could be dire, should she excite the notion, and he could get away with it.... in public..... and before the police showed up on their irregular patrols

(dahlila)"Well he was getting pretty close to your girl. But then again, what do I know about doggie etiquette."
**Not even the thought of a smile. What makes her think she won't get her head ripped off right here and now? Something tells her they must have their own set of rules, or else she'd heard of more of them, roaming the streets. Come to think of it, she has, just never believed it.**
"Shouldn't you guys be running around in the woods, by the way?"

As she speaks about their muthiual friend Chicago she snorts slightly a hand moving to push her hair from her face even as souless eyes stare at the [..defend death? I'm intruiged..] ring that forms around Dahlia, she can smell thier fear [...intoxicate me.] and lascivious tonge slides out to moisten lips even as she inches closer.
Hungry beast.

shrugs, fluidly
"A momentary lapse of judgement on his part in regards to treatment of her."
a brow lifts
"Though you've yet to change my mind on treatment of .you. Please.... entertain me with your notion of a compromise."
before he entertains himself with her head on a gilded platter
"What do you have to do with Chicago?"

(dinah)Dinah has both elbows on her knees and her head bowed, lowered [Blood of the Pharoahs...] prominent nose hawkish [...and birthright of the prophets] in profile, flat cheekbones hollowed; shadows drip across her features in comic-book relief and her fingers press downwards on her third-eye as if Atlas had his patience from a source--and she was that source. Twitch. Twitch. Twitch.
That's the color of Pain.
Red.
Anyone half-way smart would have left by now.
(...those damned do-gooders.)
T'ain't none of her concern.
RED
is what she sees.

(dahlila)"He convinced me he could get places I couldn't, so we made a deal. But I'm beggining to doubt his usefulness. And what makes you think you can actually get away with knocking me off right here?"

Feel me.
[ I want you.]
She's edging closer still [Leech. Its. Whats. For. Dinner.] as she swallows, her glands starting to salivate unconsciously as hands tense deep into her pockets. Asiatic features dip against the lampight, the curves of her features, dancing against milky shadow. [All of you, baby.] And At Dinah's last remark stoic feature actually shift, a single corner of her lips twitching up as her head raises.
[ So much MORE than you know.]


chuckled, softly
"Because I can go places, even he, cannot."
muscular shoulders raise in shrug, once more, flexing beneath his shirt
"All I need is the loose end tied..... and I can leave you and your boys to whatever it is that feeds your drunken pleasures."

(dahlila)"With all these people watching?"
**It was as if those simple little words coming out of her small, little mouth made her hopes a reality as more than a few passersby actually stop to take in the assembled crowd.
As if that wasn't enough, the constant creeping of Sian ever closer to the only source (they know of) gets the three boys a bit jumpy. A swift move under their shirts and to their wastebands and the distinct clicking of a semi-automatic gun being cocked and readied can be heard in triplicate.**
"I can look the other way, keep my mouth shut, the fuck-ever you want? Besides who'd beleive me? Is that tied up enough for ya?"
**Probably not, she knows it, that's why shee keeps her hand at her waiste. The other three leave their hands low, but griped tightly to their peices. Nervous fingers carress delicate triggers.**

the clicks draw his attention, eyes snapping over as he chuckles (hyena), that smooth voice never rising, a glance to keep Sian at bay
"A gang of thugs starting a shootout with two tourists only looking for some fun on the boardwalk tonight?"
tsks, lightly, idly weighing the possibilities, the outcomes, the sinister visions, the lurid dreams
"All of the above..... and in return I will not dance in your dreams...... and resist the urge to indulge in having them all blow their dicks off with those itchy trigger fingers. Agreed?"

[Her.]
And as the triggers sound she mouths [no sound EVER falls from her lips] kiss to the gentlemen. Her confidence is almost radiating, not from any kind of show, but for the general indifference to there threats. [Paper tigers.] And while Dahlila speaks her head perks up, of this one is so pretty--a longing look is flashed to Asher.
[I want.]

(dahlila)"Dance in my dreams? Heh, right. Agreed. And maybe you can tell me more about Malcolm? What's his game?"

"Everything..... what's yours?"

(dinah)Dinah finally lifts her head [I hear that like--] and the scene swarms greedily burns into her retina: feral, monster-lean Asher; petite, tough-as-nails Dahlila; beast-wistful nightmare Sian. Three tough punks ready to lay down their lives--and a partridge in a pear tree. [...Or a passive observor in a gettaway car.]
Dinah moves further into the car, pushing aside some car-debris to peer out the other window.

(dahlila)"...Right...We done?"

Does Dahlia feel the Girl's breath against her neck. [...sweet.] Thier words merely sounds now as she absorbs herself in her latest activity hands opening and closing within her pocket as she just leans [..a presence that drraw as it repelled.] forward, the very incarnatuion of fatal attraction.

his head tilts, hair flopping, brushing his brow, the smile slashing to gleam over white teeth
"Well."
his gaze heavy enough to catch Sian's attention in beginning his walk once more back across the street

Fingers slide against the woman's back as she passes so lightly gentle, as if she were caress a thing of glass. [Mine.] and she follows her voice long legs eating up the distance between them, as sinewy frame pours forward, a hand slipping into rear pocket easily-- and the masquerade resumes.
...just a couple of tourists RIGHT?

(dahlila)**Can You say "Heeby Jeebies" boys and girls?**
She moves back over to her car, calming down the boys who return their guns to hiding and, one by one, climb into the car.
Startling, big brown eyes look down on Dinah. That mask of anger retreating ever so slightly and betraying the inate fear in her, with the knowledge of what she just faced.**
"Get out of my fucking car."

(dinah)"Fine. Do they come here alot?"

his arm snakes its way over her shoulder, drawing the (his) asian goddess close, fingers tickling across her bicep smoothing the rigid anger (bloodlust) away, his head ducking down, lips a kissing dance across her ear, whispering

to ......scream.: "I know you want her, I never promised we would not harm, only stay out of their dreams..... they are fair game, another night, just for you..... if you want them."

(dahlila)"Who those two. I think they just got into town but these definately seem to be their stomping grounds. Sorry to get you in the middle of that by the way. Now you're stuck in it."

(dinah)"It's no problem...." the woman replies, sliding out the car-door opposite the one she entered through. "Certainly wasn't your fault. I'm only sorry there wasn't anything I could do... these truly aren't my 'stomping grounds.'" More then she usually says--but even she, safe as she was, had to have felt the tension. [And she's still got a headache like a Wonder Years marathon...] But both eyebrows raise. "I take it they are a pair to avoid...?"
--and she steps away from the car, slamming the door shut.

Its just a pair of lovers [ Her nails dig against his clothing, the thread of his fabric begining to rip.] and she holds him closer curling aginst him. Her head turns into his whisper and she exhales [ I can't control You-me-we.] lips twists cgainhis chin where harmless teeth dig against skin.
They disappear into the crowd.
[Vipers into sand.]

(dahlila)"Like the fucking plague."
**She slides into the car as it starts up and sticks her head out the window to talk to Dinah.**
"Run for crowds when you see them comeing. Try for Caesar's casino if you have to. That should be a scream."

OOC: I can't resist.
[Scream.]
Heh. Heh.

(dinah)The dark-haired woman nods faintly, strand of hair coiling free to hiss against her throat. "Take care of yourself." Her palm connects with the top of the car--and then she backs away, with a half-(Mona Lisa, wry)-smile and a wave.
Before she turns, with a glance at her watch.
Places to go, afterall.

(dahlila)**She taps on the back of the driver's seat and they take off without another word. She was convinced by now. This boardwalk was just bad friggin luck.**

a sound in his throat, so low, only she can hear it, pressing against the nails that dig into his clothing, eyes falling to half mast the scrutiny her teeth pay against his skin, guiding this (his) asian goddess down to see the sights..... young lovers, indeed

Posted by asher at July 12, 2002 12:00 AM
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