July 28, 2002
a gift [dahlila]

[atlantic city boardwalk]

**The three hispanic young men stand around a bench, their own bench as shown by the engravings and graffiti covering it. A little pocket of latin Kings territory. They take their positions, as always, surrounding the girl, not more than sixteen. Protecting the source of their strength.**

strength (it is relative) preceeds some in the form of a supportive pack, though there are times the animal can walk alone - and this is one of those times, mismatched eyes embroiled to watch the glittering lights that herald the creep of Casinos and attractions on the boardwalk sidewalk

there is something about him that searches (a toxic radar, scanning) the predator on obvious hunt..... if you know he's looking


**There she sits, the pretty eyed teen with her jeans worn low showing the boxers worn underneath, and a tank top revealing the sports bra worn underneath. She sits amid their boyish conversations of penis enlargement products and muscle cars. They weren't the best, but they did come in handy.

Her deep brown doe eyes look over the boardwalk, and there she spots him, scanning about, hunting. It was the same, no matter who you are.**


a (homicidal) smile strays to curve his lips, while he does not spot them.... he can hear them, the racous competition of testosterone conglomeration (bigger, faster, harder, deeper) and those eyes cast towards the group as if the bench were an beautiful island suddenly appearing in the midst of this cacaphonous sea

and as a cast away sailor, it draws him (magnetic siren song) slowly the pace changes to take him to the bench, remaining in plain sight, knowing there is no way his approach will be missed (this time)



**Mistrust and nervousness. Why wasw he here? Now? Why right after she talks to the Malcom's big cheese that this one just happens to stroll by.**

"This frickin boardwalk is bad luck."

**She doesn't have her guns on her, but the boys had plenty. This time they aren't too hasty in drawing them, though. Instead they simply turn, following Dahlila's gaze, and keep their hands near their waistes.**

"Fancy meeting you here?"


"Fancy that...."

there's a low chuckle, and it rolls like winter's fog over the waves (cold, thick, and consuming) a strange delight in pale and dark eyes which first look to the boys (a mockery or invitation? all it takes is a whispered wish......) then the young woman between them

"I have something for you, Dahlila."

admitting there is no random want to his stalk - his hunting search was definitely narrow - hands sliding from pockets, smoothly, palms open and empty to ease the minds of trigger happy boys


"And what could that be?"

**She doesn't move, and neither do the boys, not even for the oncoming people, constantly flowing past on the boardwalk.**

"I need a gift from you like I need a hole in the head."


now, the sound from his throat is much softer, the chuckle more of a purr (crooned and coy)

"Kaj'sha told me maybe I was too hard on you, last time, after your conversation a little while ago..... though I'm sure you understand, I was acting in the best intrest of Malcom and the others. Nothing personal...."

a hand disappears back into his pocket (like a snake into a burrow) to retrieve a small metal cigarette case

"..... but I wanted to give you something as a gesture of good will. An apology, of sorts, for seeming like I wanted to eat you and your boys."


"Like Li'l Red ridnig hood and shit."

**Malcom, Kaj'sha. And this one was Asher, Kaj'sha said. Looks like they were all connected.

Way too deep.

She pushes off the bench and through the boys, stern scowls on their faces as they stared down Asher.**

"Okay, I'm listening."


the slash of a smile grows as she parts the boys (what a bloody red sea he could turn them into) the case flipped between nimble fingers like a coin to present to her, pressure popping the lid and the sparkly within revealed

"Something like that...... it's just to say I'm sorry for being so mean...... and besides, as long as you wear it, it keeps Sian and I with our talents pointed in the opposite direction."

talons.... talents..... sometimes it's one and the same when referring to the Ahroun who keeps near your side



**She looks at it, eyeing it. Prety. It would look lovely lying just between her bossom.**

"And turn my neck green? So I'm supposed to just take your word for it. Right..."


his lips part in a soft breath (a pout?)

"I thought you'd like it..... it would be becoming on you....."

the soft smile returning (encouraging) though he understands her hesitance, shoulders rolling in a shrug

"Though I'm not sure how else to let Sian know you're to be protected......."

he knows..... it was very apparent how much the (his) asian wanted to make hamburger out of the boys still scowling from behind Dahlila


**A single hand touches at the stud in her nose for a moment, then to the necklace, a single finger over the diamond.**

"Makes sense. Fine."

**She takes it holding it in her palm for a while. It really was something to look at.**

his smile widens (pleased) to resemble charmed

"I'm glad you like it, Dahlila...."

though he makes no move to assist her putting it on, surely the boys wouldn't react well to his hands around her throat

"An easily recognized symbol of good graces, for both our friends, as long as you wear it, yes?"


"Whatever."

**She she brushes back the hair on the back of her neck as she does up the clasp.**

"Is that all you wanted?"

"Yes...... a pleasure to meet on far more amiable terms this time, hm? I'll hope such times continue..."

something glitters in mismatched eyes, though he only snaps the case closed (the jaws of a terrible monster around it's victim) and returns it to his pocket, weight shifting to return to his nighttime stroll amongst the firework carnival lights


and its one more day up in the canyon--
And its one more night in Hollywood.

Wolves travel in packs. Hunt in tactical units to bring down the most (nutritous) beneficial kill. She is not WITH asher--but generally nearby. The unseen roll of thunder behind his lightning smiles--she is actually on the beach now her pants slogging against the ebb and flow of water and the accumylation of damp sand at her tattered hems.

...its been so long since I've seen the Ocean..

Her thick black hair flies about her as she moves, so far removed from the image of a silken siren. Her viciousness worn as feral skin, another silken shawl to drap over Asian form, dripping like blood. Beautiful predator.

I wish you would.


**She steps back, wary about turning her back on the new allie. Slowly, carefully backing up to her protective circle of ghouls.**

"You have a nice night, now."


there is little heed paid as Dahlila backs into the sheltering circle of ghouls, perhaps it is a sign of his own confidence to merely stroll away, or something more, but that is a secret remaining only unto himself, the answer to her parting words only the absent wave of his hand


[cont'd in midnight swim]

Posted by asher at July 28, 2002 12:00 AM
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