|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Jun 16, 2018 14:45:22 GMT -8
"Figured me out, didn't you." George chuckled bitterly. He shot Duval a sideways glance, allowing Courcy to indulge his friend's curiosity if she wished to.
"Mm, glad to hear it." He nodded, leaning back in his chair. He could not deny himself the pleasure of appreciating Courcy's body. "Careful out there... nasty business. Walking bones... this place is a nightmare made material." He smirked, rising his glass. "But a good excuse for drinking."
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Jun 16, 2018 15:46:45 GMT -8
She watched Duval with an arched brow, while he soothed his cramped leg. Maybe he was the one in need of a massage instead. Courcy leaned on one hip, to show her curves, and she gave the rogue an unapologetic stare.
“I tried to kill a woman in the abbey, Grace.” She looked down to the desk and picked at papers and records there, until she finally snatched up a glass and poured herself a drink. “But I failed, or my neck would’ve found a noose.”
The ginger’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. She gulped down some ale and watched George’s face.
“So you do worry about me?”
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Jun 16, 2018 15:56:47 GMT -8
"Ah..."
He flexed his leg, craning it from left to right, cringing uncomfortably all the while. Eventually, he came to relax again, though not as vibrantly as Courcy described her conviction.
"Well. I'm not one to judge, 'specially after my history! Though she's... helped, sooth some wounds for my own health. Though I'm sure, for someone as witty as yourself, had good reasons."
Duval nodded at her, though an awkward expression came over him as she shot a direct statement to George. Perhaps his words of truth, and gossip had prompted something.
So, he would remain quiet, lip on his cigar, puffing small wisps of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, watching the two with curiosity.
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Jun 23, 2018 16:53:39 GMT -8
He wasn't surprised Duval took the news so well, to be honest. Probably dealt with worse individuals.
What he was surprised by was Courcy's question. Very direct, very uncomfortable, Duval's presence notwithstanding.
"Ehh... Nick. Do me a favor and leave us alone for a moment." He spoke somberly, eyes focused on the glass.
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Jun 23, 2018 17:07:39 GMT -8
"Bah, well aren't you boring! Sittin here trying to enjoy me drink n cigar. Pah!"
He chuckled, his head leaning back against the grain of the wood wall. His cigar hand would wiggle itself toward Courcy, pointing a loose finger at her.
"I reckon Courcy should tell me whether to boot, afterall she was the one who brought up the matter."
He retracts his hand and moved the cigar close to his lips once more, not before taking a sip out of his glass, then puffing the cigar smoke.
"'Sides, might kip in this chair whilst you two chat. Ain't like I care..."
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Jun 23, 2018 17:55:35 GMT -8
Courcy's posture slackened and her wry smile turned somber. It was immediately unsettling that George wanted to be alone. If Duval did leave, there was no telling exactly what the warden meant to say or do, though not all possibilities were unwelcome.
Looking him over, George seemed surprisingly sober, especially after company with his friend. The redhead had asked a simple question, but apparently coaxed a more complex or serious response. Already she heard what he might say in her head. He may have cared for her safety, as much as anyone else, but what they had was no sort of love.
"What if he stayed?" She sighed, leaning toward George, and lowering her voice just slightly. "Would you tell me there's something... something real, more than just heat, between us?"
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Jun 24, 2018 14:01:15 GMT -8
His eyes grow cold and glare at Duval. That cocky bastard!
And Courcy. He shot her a raised eyebrow, hoping she wasn't implying what he was inferring.
"If he stays." George makes a pause for better effect. "Then we won't be having the conversation. I've had time to... sober up and think. Realize a few things." He crossed his arms. That was all he's going to say on the matter.
"How I see it: either Duval gives us, Courcy, a moment to discuss things, or we stay and enjoy a damn fine evening. I'll leave that up to you." He reached for another cigar, the momentary silence beckoning an answer.
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Jun 24, 2018 14:09:47 GMT -8
Duval chuckled, rolling his shoulders as he kicked his feet off the table. With arms wrapped around his abdomen, he leaned forward peering at George with a tut. "George, come on man I thought this is where you start playing the violin and serenading her? Courcy!" He turned to the redhead, straightening his back as he leaned back onto his chair, chuckling as he shrugged. "I know George as good as any-" He held a finger up at George, but not before slamming the rest of his drink down and then doing so, waggling at him to get him to not interrupt him. "And I'd say if my... hoogalabooga magick shite is still sharp as me' knife, that..." He retraced the hand, and kicked his legs up over one another as he held the cigar up, but with his free hand he shot a finger gun at him, raising and lowering quickly as he smirked at him. "I'd say George just needs to... oh whats the word... Ah! He needs to man up and stop being so shhhhy..." Duval drawled the last word on as if he were playing the worlds smallest violin, before he let out a little chuckle, coughed and sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall.
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Jun 24, 2018 16:13:49 GMT -8
"Sober? Who're you kidding?" Courcy scoffed, but George was clearly serious. She knew what he would say: That their correspondence was just for drunken pleasure, just a simple fuck with no strings attached. No pressure to truly feel anything for the other except a sexual gratification. It would be a relief to hear it aloud... though she worried he would admit something else altogether, or even the opposite.
The rogue, blathering on about magic and wooing and so forth, was an unexpected addition to her visit. He was a complication enough to make George hold his tongue. Courcy sighed and watched the warden's face, as though she might read him, yet he was stern.
"Look... that night, we had fun. That was it." She was nervous to hear what the man had been thinking about, and wondered if it would be best not to hear him out at all. The hellion snatched up her glass and gulped down its contents. Courcy exhaled sharply, hopped off the desk, and strolled toward Duval. Perhaps he wasn't so much of an obstacle.
"What's wrong with a 'damn fine evening'?" The redhead swiveled to face George again and her sapphire eyes caught on his sullen face. She sank her teeth in her lower lip. Her hips lowered until she was suddenly, yet comfortably, sat upon Duval's lap.
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Jun 24, 2018 17:18:27 GMT -8
"Oh, fuck off..." George rolled his eyes at Duval's antics. This time, they didn't amuse him. He had no idea...
Then Courcy spoke, then made her move - and all his previous concerns were dumped into fire, incinerated by another emotion. With amusement, he watched his friend's reaction... And reconsidered. Am I truly to blame for this?
"Absolutely nothing." He smirked, puffing and enveloping his face in that sweet smoke.
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Jun 24, 2018 23:28:45 GMT -8
Oh Duval was having one he'll of a time getting under Georges skin, the steely gaze and stern frown held on his face was priceless. It was hilarious how this was suppose to br 'serious', and God did he hate being serious, always a dampener on a good time. But then he looked at Courcy with an idle glance as she slammed her drink down her throat. It brought a smile to his face, it seemed her talk of becoming better back in the bathouse was coming into light. A lad, it seemed, or at least a potential one.
So he let his head wind back, and he sighed.
"Listen George, if you're gonna keep yapping you might as -"
His body froze, no action elicited as Courcy decided to use him as a seat. The world blurred, his hearing distorted and mishaped as he himself seemingly lost himself for a moment. Beneath the waves that were now swimming around him, his left eye fluttered open regrettably, and instead of Courcy sitting on his lap in her extravagant glory, she was replaced with the necrotic vulture headed woman. In his eyes, she simply rolled her hips on his legs, looking back at him with eye sockets empty.
"-Well. That's.. wha?"
He posed in a semi nasaly tone, confused entirely by the situation. Had she forgotten her declaration of temporary chastity to keep herself moving forward? Or was it simply a sham, a hoax...
In both ways he was disappointed and glad, he just couldn't keep control of the two emotions he currently felt. So, looking over Courcys shoulder toward George, he simply puffed on his cigar.
"You... are you sure you're not just thinking of what to say? Isn't this the part you declare your devotion and ride off into the sunset?"
He posed the question, a tense look was about him as he set the cigar down on the armrest, looking up at Courcy with a wary glance, then back at George.
"...Oh don't give me that smirk, you arse. I'm the only one that can play you like a feckin fiddle, not the other way round.."
Duval grumbled as he realised Georges tactical retreat, to let him boil not only in confusion and anxiety, but to put him at risk of the vulture lady. Who knows what she would do. Kill him? Possess him? Duval let out a quiet gulp, pointing toward the glass on the desk.
"Now George..."
He starts off as if expecting somwthin from Geoege, shuffling around but not much, dueto him beint pinned down in an intimate fashion. He shoots a finger at the glass he drsnk from, left on the desk.
"-I'm a bit indisposed as Ive become an armchair for Courcy, so can you please pour me one?"
Duval asked of, hell it sounded like there was a portion of begging in his voice, but his determination not to have the tables turned on him in this game of ballsy chess. The mans eyes squinted at him, and he couldn't help but anxiously smile at him, a pinch of red forming at his cheeks as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure.
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Jun 25, 2018 14:25:08 GMT -8
Courcy felt tense even as George's demeanor shifted to be more relaxed. Whether from regret or anticipation, the woman's heart thumped in her ears. She set her hands on her knees and wriggled just enough in Duval's lap before casting a look back at him, over her shoulder. He was a quirky fellow, but seemed just as amenable as George, if not more so.
"Another glass for me too, George." She sat up to beckon the warden over with a puff of her chest. A tryst was easy. It was instant and attainable, even if it wasn't true. "Maybe we'll have that talk another time. We can be sober later."
After a short reprieve, after Lekalis and Tilly's wedding, Courcy was intent to leave for the ruins. Accommodating as he was, she didn't plan to have George breathing down her neck forever. Yet she was worried too, as all her efforts were in vain and troubles arose with every breath it seemed, that she might not return from this expedition.
"And, if not, at least we enjoy this now." Courcy reached back for Duval's belt.
|
|
|
|
Post by rumsztyk on Jun 26, 2018 19:43:42 GMT -8
George let out a dry chuckle. He drew a perverse kind of pleasure from seeing Duval so flustered, not thinking much of it. How the tables have turned...
His steady hand prepared the refills promptly, sliding them towards the two. George himself relaxed and watched the show with a great deal of satisfaction and anticipation.
"A damn fine evening indeed." George got up from his seat and went towards the door to his office. He glanced outside of the room, for a moment or two, then twisted the key. No interruptions.
|
|
|
|
Post by relentless on Jun 26, 2018 20:00:42 GMT -8
/Duval/ -A troubled mind- Trapped. Caged. His mental effigy and will seemingly choked, as he stared wide eyed through the crimson bars of sinew and muscle at the vulture lady that sat on his lap, toyiny at his belt buckle. As he stared through the eye sockets of Duval, his clothless, ethereal form braced against the bars of his imprisonment. And as he stared, he saw images, flashes of a grim reminder, with taboo sounds to follow through. It made him sick. Disgusted, repulsed. So he screamed in his mind, veins tensed out of his neck. 'Please! N-no more! S-stop!' He cried, but his voice merely echoed among the crimson winds as he shook the bars to no avail. For all he could see was a corpse with unblinking, pale eyes, and naked muscle to bare, rather than the illustrious form that was Courcy.
// -The office- His attention snapped back to reality, and his eyes glanced down, eyeing the hands that were fumbling at his belt. His expression was not one of bemused arousal, at least not entirely, but also shared a petrified sense of horror. His mouth opened, lips quivered and shook in place. Air seemed to be lacking. Had he been shot? His lung, punctured perhaps? No... No, it was something he could not mend with need and thread, something deeper in the body. And when that tumbler clicked in the door as George sauntered over, the click and clank of his buckle. Everything seemed muh slower. More agonisingly slow. And as he looked back at Courcy, he could see her face shifting, the mechanisms of bone plates and sinew string contortion unnaturally, whilst the other half remained the same, retaining the beauty that was Courcy. Though in Duvals eyes, he could only feel, and hear the churning of his guts, the clicking of a beak, and the tumble of his buckle. "C-courcy wait a minute, please." He closed his eyes and turned his head as he held a clenched fist to his mouth, whilst the other held a grip on her wrist, with enough pull to stop her any further from advancing on his undergarments. Every disgusting sound that he didn't want to hear called out to him, and he didn't dare look her in the face to see her face contoring and morphing into god knows what. His throat tensed, and his face grew dark as he looked away, pained as if she had stuck him in the ribs. He hurt, physically, but even more so mentally. "-Right, I'm... i'm alright." He nodded as his head swiveled back on straight, relinquishing his grip from her wrist. He took a moment to compose himself, merely looking on the hand, his body tensed up.
"Are you... okay with this?" Duval inquired toward her, his eyes avoiding her gaze, as if he were looking upon medusa himself.
|
|
|
|
Post by black379 on Jun 29, 2018 13:31:42 GMT -8
Courcy released the man's undone belt buckle as he let go of her wrist. She tried to catch a look into Duval's averted eyes, but he was clearly uncomfortable. She wasn't sure what to make of his protest, except that he might have been embarrassed by what he admitted, or that she had excused his advances, before in the bathhouse.
Her hand delicately placed between Duval's legs, she squeezed to feel his desire for her. She struggled to quell her lust, infatuated by the idea of these two men sharing her. But this wasn't what she longed for - Courcy truly wanted a partner in life and in home. Neither the warden nor the rogue could suit her need.
"Don't back out now... I just want to feel..." The redhead sighed, her face cast with guilt. She put on a grin, turned to George, and beckoned him over with a finger.
|
|
