June 24, 2004
.06.24.04. - crash [roxy scene in full]

[riverfront]

(roxy)
Fingers come up to pull the cigarette from her mouth, smoke exhaled through her nose, like a smoking dragon. Her head drops down, spilling the singature peroxide dreads across her cheeks.

"Deal." a beat...

And Roxanne is pulling herself up from the couch to step away from it. Driving means leaving the factory, it means getting behind the beloved Nova of hers, Priscilla, it means 1,000lbs of hot American made steel manipulated like a vibrating beast under her hands, in her control.

The car keys remained in her hand, "Let's go." replaces the cigarette in her mouth, sparing James a glance, meeting those umber eyes.

(james)
1,000 pounds of American steel and muscle waiting on the other side of that door
when, once opened, introduces James to a stumbling Tristan
whom he catches, dutifully, rearranging limbs as necessary to assure Rumor gets the prettyboi inside in one piece

"Beer run."

all that's offered in explanation
a little too agitated from the collective night to hang around for discussion
once in Priscilla, he's buckled in for safety measues against non-existant knowledge of her driving rep
Garou or not, he's newly healed and that's one helluva lot of horsepower dragging his ass around
ashed scars pressing against well-kept seats, belt cutting into the tenderly reformed flesh on his belly


(roxy)
The door opens to spill out a drunken Tristan. Roxanne side-steps out of the way, waiting for them to all pass by. "Yeah, beer run." she murmurs under her breath.

The escape made to Priscilla, Roxy doesn't hesitate much on starting the car up and revving the engine a bit too much. She glances over to see if the Gnawer was strapped inside. Good. She wasn't... her driving skills were on par with her shooting. Quick, wild and... a little precise. The car erupts out of the drive, pouring out onto the street.

(tristan)
Caught! dutifully even. slow smirk as he glances up at James, quick once over to see he’s still in one piece – which he’d already checked on before leaving earlier, but well, it bears a repeated glance with this group, and a low snort at the ‘explanation.’

“Sure, whatever.”

The only fucking comment in reply. Arm unwinds from brother, from the kid, and he starts across toward the mattress. Not sure when the factory doubled in size and started wavering, but he makes due.


(james)
the car erupts onto the street
luckily, James has been exposed to several levels of driving
those that are skilled, all the way down to watching Kemp's kamakaze runs
so when torque lurches heavy frame out of it's resting spot
he's just bracing a foot against the floorboards
otherwise doing his best to look nonchalant in the forces shoving him securely into the seat
elbow resting on the polished and shiney interior within the passenger door
smoke scissored between two fingers and angled to flick out the cracked window

it's not until after he's palmed over some cash for Roxy to head into the liquor mart - he is, after all, only wearing pants and those scars will definitely raise questions even in this part of town at this time of night - and thus returned with beloved beer (Heineken. Check. Rolling Rock. Check. Newcastle. Check. Two bottles of Arrogant Bastard. Check.) also safely tucked into the trunk, does James choose to finally break the silence otherwise only filled by the sound of growling motor amongst the city's nightly white-noise cacophany of background affects

"Hey Rox....." interjection at a stoplight driven pause, furtive glance to his left at best "Deck'r tell ya we talk'?"

(roxy)
List of beloved alcohol purchased: (Heineken. Check. Rolling Rock. Check. Newcastle. Check. Two bottles of Arrogant Bastard. Check. and... Two bottles of Southern Comfort. Check) wonder who that could be for.... All of it safely stashed in a two secured milk crates in the trunk to keep the bottles from clanking together with Roxy's wild driving skills. The trip into the liquor store had been a brief, yet amusing encounter with the two guys behind it, asking Roxy where the party was going to be at... Her response, "In mah pants..." and swiftly left after tossing cash on the counter.

Pan away to present moment, engine growls under the hood, the nova poised and ready to burst out of the starting gate, when the light goes green. Roxy's hands tightened around the wheel until the knuckles were almost white, her head canting to the side to look at James through the corner of her right eye. "Nah, Decker didn't," she answers, looking back at the red light. "Tristan told me amongst other things..." light goes green, her foot releases the break. Hand drops to shift gears... forcing the car to coast out at a slower pace than she wanted to. Breaking speed limits and heavy conversation didn't boast well.. given the seriousness of the situation.

(james)
breaking speed limits and heavy conversations didn't boast well
especially given the seriousness of the situation
which is what probably has James lighting up another smoke
making sure the Nova's window's cracked

and going through about one quarter Camel before speaking again
watching the cityscape stroll on by
decidedly not looking at Roxy

"Yeh?"

long anticipation for that.

(roxy)
"Yeah, Tristan, told me.. More like he yelled it at me." She replies, glancing over at him. She watches him light up another cigarette, before flicking her gaze towards the redlight.

"Seems if I want somethin' from ya, James.. I'm goin' to have to do it mahself and not get the help of others. Least ways, I shouldn't be tryin' to coerce ya into somethin' ya don't want to do."

(james)
at the glance, she does - in fact - meet deep umber
beneath a lifted brow at the surprise of Tristan's yelling lecture
which oddly enough begets a soft chuckle from the Ahroun
deep sound rolling quiet thunder from his chest
stormclouds symbolized in nothing more than exhaled smoke
plume coiling towards the cabin ceiling before sucked out the window

his head shakes, pulling dreadlocks across battlescarred shoulders
returning that soulful gaze back to the world outside

"Fig'red all a tha' was a giv'n."

(roxy)
A slight bit of tension continued to coil through her body, most of it from his presence next to her. She keeps her eyes on the light, lifting her foot off the brake to press it to the accelerator as red bleeds to green.

Cobalt-blues flicker sideways with another subtle slide over James. The nova makes it way down the street, shifting lanes as Roxy's hand shift through gears. She guides the car back towards the factory, but not to it, instead a detour comes up and Roxanne is pulling up into some vacant parking lot.

The car idles to a stop, thrown into park to allow the engine to idle. Her body pivots in the driver's seat to look right at him. "I need to cut through the bullshit and just get right to the fuckin' point."

(james)
the car's heading back towards the factory
then... takes..... a slight detour
when the roadside landmarks unfamiliarize themselves
there's a brow lifting back towards frame of shaggy dreads
and then. the car. stops.

she pivots to face him
he pivots to..... it honestly seems as if he's putting his back to a corner, doesn't it
no matter how casual flicking ashed log out the window seems

"Norm'lly." the nod is.... slow "Guessin' it depen' on what th' point is...."

funny how James can face down a beeeeg evil in Pyrell's building without batting an eye
yet, now he's holding that smoke balanced on a knee as if a shield


(roxy)
Right arm stretches out across the seats, resting her hand on back headrest of his. Briefly fingers touched along his shoulder as it shifts to touch the door, now backed himself into a corner.

Those blue eyes keep a leveled gaze on his, seeming to focus on their color.
A deep umber brown.. when earth and sky meet...

Her chest heaves out, straining feminine softness against the scooped neckline of leather corset. Peroxide dreads spill forward as her head cants down, "I like you... alot. I think yar kinda sexay, and love to fuck ya," she looks way for a moment, "But I know you have certain.. hang-ups.. and I ain't lookin' for anythin' serious."

(james)
breifly, fingers stray across the top of his shoulder
tanned skin smooth until path's hitched by uppermost reach of gnarled scar
as if the horrible wounds of his past were reaching for her touch
even if his own hands do (can) not

most likely because they're busying themselves trying not to fumble that cigarette right out of his grip and onto her expensively kept interior carpeting
that would be bad

"Wow... Rox....." it's barely murmured past his lips (....imagine what it would sound like breathless) because that's about all the Ahroun can manage to string together after her admission "I...."

that's definitely all he can sum up at the moment
and she wouldn't be seeing things if she imagine a flush creeping into his features
Gaia's big bad Warrior Full Moon suddenly shy as a schoolboy
seems such straight forwardness is a rarity to the guttermutt
near filtered smoke's cast away through the window's cracked space
and hands are running through dark dreads to pull some sense back into his brain

it allows his head to lean back against the car's frame and those deep umber eyes to close

"Y'know....." slow, but it's a start "I'd love a take you'p on tha' off'r 'n drag yeh inna th' back seat, but....." the admission sighed, cause dayum he'd love to and probably will in part never forgive himself for passing the opportunity up when there's little chance left she is still alive ".... I got them hang'ps."

it drifts off
one dark eye allowed to crack open
chancing a glance at the peroxide fox next to him
wondering if she even knows what those hangups are

(roxy)
Who says she hasn't imagined what his breath would be like.. breathless.. Who says she hasn't imagined many things with him. Hard to say... Not like there had ever been a chance to seduce him. Other things... now her own hang ups simply got in the way.

Her arm pulls back from the headrest, tugging slightly on one of his dreads. She pulls it back to her, shrugging out of her jacket to toss it in the backseat. She turns back to look at him, stretching out her hands to place the right on the headrest again, the left somewhere on his portion of the seat, next to his inner thigh. Roxanne shifts her body closer, leaning in to close the distance between them.

Soft flesh bared across her arms, collarbone and shoulders. The slight creak of leather as the corset molded over the sinewy hard lines of her lithe frame, shoving that heavy cleavage a little closer to his line of sight. "James, we all got hang ups. I know I do. I ain't askin' for much. Just... a little time to simply indulge a body's needs. Shouldn't let them hang ups completely rule ya life, shugah." the smoky tone of her voice rumbles out in a softer tone. Extending her right hand from the headrest to his shoulder, sliding calloused fingertips up through the dreads to his cheek.

(james)
hangups that James may have - he is still male beneath that well-behaved thesad
attention drawing back to her in response to dread's playful tug
and that means his eyes don't exactly stray as she's slipping out of her jacket
or leaning over to allow heavy cleavage a little more into his line of sight

ho. lee. shit.

it is. CLEAR. he appreciates what he sees
the scent. the sight. the sound.
and oh Gaia her touch.....

that is what affects him most
breath catching as fingertips slide up to palm
calloused lines of her hands cupping rugged lines of his jaw
dark eyes closing when the touch hides notched scar
he couldn't stop the lean into it even if he wanted to
exhale trembling across her inner wrist as something else quivers through his frame
(.... it's been a long, long time, Jamey-boy.... what'll happen when the dam explodes......)

"I know....." breathless "...... an' I want." his hand reaches to cover hers, fingers that could crush her bones only lightly wrapping around in a grip that keeps warm flesh against his own, not yet pulling away "..... but I.... I can't Rox...."

(roxy)
Blond lashes lower over cobalt-blue eyes, which remain intently upon his face to drink in his reaction. A slight cant of her head, angled, to bring it closer to his face. Barely a hair's breath away, he can feel the warm rush of her breathe exhale against the other cheek. The smoky roll of her voice, sounding more like a seductive purr as she spoke.

"Sssh, James..." crooning softly, a brush of full lips along his cheek in a barest gesture of a nuzzle. "Yes, ya can, shugah. Don't think about it. Don't think about anythin'... just give in." Too close perhaps for his comfort, boldly breaking the boundries between them.

Her thumb slides over scarred flesh slowly, followed by the heel of her palm... rough skin sliding over scarred flesh.. in intimate gestures. Her hand doesn't pull away as his cups over hers, only presses more into his cheek.

"Ya can, Jamey-boy. There's never a can't... remember that."

(james)
breath catches and heaves
muscles jolt and tremble
blood rushes and...... well, rushes
bodyheat (Rage) this close all but stinging Roxy's flesh
especially cause his free hand is wrapping around her waist and just drawing corseted frame so. much. closer.

"Yur righ'......" hushed ".... s'no can't......"

how easy it would be to give in and turn his head towards hers
(can she feel his breath rattle towards a growl)
take sultry murmuring lips and silencing them by just. giving. in.
(can she tell how high the tension's bolting... crackling in the air)
indulge that nuzzled gesture for the intimate affection he so sorely craves
(..... that shaking isn't what you think it is.....)
and Gaia. James almost does it.
(too. close. for. comfort.)

but one hand closes around her wrist
the other's dragging back across leather to push at her waist
gently urging she lean back
(away. get a safe distance away.)
something pleading in deep umber eyes

"I should'n."

(roxy)
She can feel the burning... [Rage..] against her flesh. It rolls across some internal sixth sense, a kinfolk's intuition... The tiny hairs on the back of her tattooed nape rise up as shivers prickle down her spine.

[Pull back.. Don't goad... something's wrong]

An silent fight to not given into the rage, to never shrink back. She was fearless, dammit.. but not stupid. Cobalt-blue eyes flick up to read his umber eyes. Something in them makes her frown just a little. Roxanne's head moves, sliding lips across his cheek to the corner of his mouth, pressing the slightest touch. She pulls back then, reluctantly, allowing his hand to push her away.

She murmurs quietly, almost pleading herself, "James... don't." Right hand turns to curl around his hand, releasing his cheek from her palm. "Shugah, please..." More space put between them, allowing the guttermutt room to breathe.

(james)
more room to breath and he takes it
heart beating against the caging bars of his ribs
chest heaving in some struggle for control
(Gaia don't make me make this decision....)
head shaking dreads formidable curtain so he's got an excuse to look away

and for the longest time there's nothing but the sound of their breathing
his tightly coiled in control
her's held in anticipation
loose fingers negligently wrap over retreating touch
absent drummer's habit tapping the chaos of his thoughts across her flesh
little more than the blithe flex of fingers
stacatto beats slowly but surely tempting the tease of pulling her closer

then - right inbetween one breath and another - he reverses it
the Full Moon moving fast as lightning when he wants to
backed into a corner so far there's only one place left to go
bodies crash an intimate, desperate tide
and by the way his mouth claims hers there's no. doubt he regrets pushing her away
(how that pleaded murmur made him ache)

it's a moment of conquest
throwing aside fears, hangups, and the righteous battles of conscience
giving into the one, primal crave her words so sweetly planted within his ears
(if this is how passionately he kisses, imagine how ruthlessly he fucks)
fingers of one hand tangled iron twist among peroxide dreads
the others reaching down and flipping the automatic lock
(can she feel him wince)

"I'm sorry Rox......" a whisper so soft it's heartbreaking, apologetic across her lips "..... I can' leggo 've her if I dunna she's dead..... 'n I can't live wi' myself if 'm wrong."

it's a moment of sorrow
bare inches of focus between orbs of crystal blue and deepest umber
(when earth and sky collide)
grip released so calloused fingertips slide softly down her cheek

the last thing James wants to do is pull away and climb out of the car
she can tell by the way his head hangs after the Nova's door slams behind him

(roxy)
For the longest moments there is nothing but the sounds of their breathing.
His tightly coiled in control.
Hers fall in heavy pants.

The soft staccato of his fingers drum across her hand, mimicking the quick beat of her heart slamming within her own ribcage. That corset had never felt so tighter, like a leather cage over her burning skin. She felt her blood rush into her face, flushing it with color... rising the temperature of body heat.

And, then the unexpected.. roles reversed. The Full Moon moving fast, perhaps faster than Roxy could react, pushing, backing her into the driver's seat. Bodies crash, her left hand snares up to briefly to entangle in the jungle-vine of brown dreads. Holding him tightly as his mouth claimed lush full lips.

It was a fleeting moment of conquest as she pushed into him, lips locked for a heated kiss, returning it with her own ferocity. (He ruthlessly fucked as passionately as she did... a destructive force of such a union could be devistating to furniture...) She barely has time to register his retreat, leaving Roxanne blinking as James pulled away completely. She doesn't move, half-reclined as he whispered against her mouth. "James... don't...do..this..." panting, pleading..

A soft growl vibrates in the back of her throat, gritting her teeth as she bit down on her the full line of bottom lip, just watching him as she winces with the slamming of the nova's door.

This wasn't over with yet...


Posted by james at June 24, 2004 12:00 AM