Luck be a lady (ReD)

Omino · Jul 12, 2017

Murphy had done a lot of drugs in his short life.

Cocaine made him fidgety
Pot made him mellow
Acid enlightened him
Ecstasy made him feel amazing
PCP made him feel invincible

But nothing, none of it held a damn candle to the absolute bliss of Yoka pulling him into that kiss.

In hindsight, it sounded cheesy as hell, but the world seemed to stop in that moment. Every worry, from the surface fears to the deep seated terrors disappeared. If he had died at that moment he would have argued that ithe was unfair... in his favor.

He ran a hand through her hair pulling her against him, holding onto her desperately as if afraid she'd disappear if he let go. Was this... was this what it was like to be happy?

Eventually, after God knows how long and after several catcalls and slammed horns of cars going by he pulled away, slowly and painfully.

This was it, this was what he'd always wanted, what he'd been scared of. But something still bothered him, made him feel the need to make it official. So in the most Murphy way possible he grinned stupidly and asked,

"I uh... don't suppose you'd be free for dinner sometime? Like... a date?"

@ReD

ReD · Jul 13, 2017

Yoka tried not to take it personally that people thought that she was a whore.

She danced, it was true, and though she'd taken a step back at the club except in training her staff and dancing for specialty events where the price tag was so high she could actually pay her employee's healthcare. But she didn't sleep with people for money.

She could, if she wanted to. She was good at it. If she could make that much from a dance, one could only imagine what she could make if she put her natural-born and centuries honed talents on the market.

But she didn't.

Because Yoka liked kissing. She liked petting. She liked sex. She didn't want it to become work, the way dancing sometimes had in the past.

Kissing Murphy did not feel like work.

It was sweet and young and bitter like her coffee. It tasted like the first bite of cake after a year-long diet. It tasted the way flowers looked.

And then some.

It was his damn hand in her hair, the desperate way he held her, that brought a low buzz of satisfaction and want vibrating through her. She was content to kiss him for a while, and only once did she remove the hand from his face to flip off a driver (without even looking away) before returning it.

Eventually, though, like all sweet things, they were best eaten slowly and not all in one sitting, so the kiss was broken. Her ears perked upwards and her lips crinkled up into another smile, but this one quickly turned sly.

Evidence C that Murphy was a good boy.

"I will be free in exactly five days," Yoka said, holding out her hand as she did the math, which was basic but still twice as hard while she was still drunk. Two days later and checked out at hospital, minus 7 days of bedrest, that meant five days remaining. Right? Or was it only four?

Fuck, this middle-of-the-afternoon-night thing really made things confusing as hell. She closed her eyes for a moment, reorienting herself, and then grinned a sharp toothed grin at him.

"I wasn't joking," she said, and now her voice was serious again, her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "Take me to the cross fox. I don't blame you for leaving the hospital. That's practically asking for an infection."

It was, regretfully, like Yoka to switch from intimacy to practicality so quickly.

But it was the only way she knew to show she cared.

She still had her fingers out for counting, so she just kept them out, sort of pointing at him with a peace sign.

"But I swear to god Murphy, if you die because of your leg injury, I will personally break every law on this island to resurrect you just so I can kill you."

She reached across the seat, avoiding his bad leg, and Yoka slid her hand down around his abdomen and hips and lower and felt...

his pockets.

For his phone.

"Where is your phone?" she asked, which is what she should have done first. "I'm calling your boss and telling her you're not coming in this week. And also your school."

Omino · Jul 13, 2017

He snorted and started the Jeep again, falling right back into the familiar patter,

"No deal, three days plus I'll promise to actually take whatever it was prescribed to me."

A familiar tone, the same one they'd been bantering since the day they met but now he could have sworn there was more to it. A tone of warmth within the words, the occasional eye contacted that lasted just a bit longer than it used to, something made what would have otherwise been a completely forgettable conversation into something....

Well it made it SOMETHING.

Aso they sped down the thoroughfare he reached out for her hand and just for a moment everything seemed like it was going to be alright. With her around maybe his luck was finally changing. Maybe he could drop some of the baggage he'd been carrying around for so very, very long.

Maybe this was what it really meant to get lucky.

And then he blew a tire.

@ReD (end scene?)

ReD · Jul 13, 2017

With Murphy in front of her, Yoka reached around him to unlock the door to the upper floor apartment.

It was comfortable and dark, even at this time of day, because it assumed a day-time sleep schedule for the occupant. The apartment was cool, perhaps a little bit chilly, and clean. It was minimalist in design with the rich amber and dark scarlet of Yoka's favorite color scheme. The place smelled faintly of her perfume but also of cinnamon and a deeper, musky smell.

She pushed him in, taking control and closing the door with her foot behind her. She was very directive, moving him straight towards where she wanted him.

Her hands gripped his belt and pulled her tight against him, so they were so close that the tip of her nose touched his, and then she said, "Don't fight me on this, Murphy."

Then, with one finger, she pushed him backwards onto the bed.

She climbed up over him, balancing her legs so they were on either side of his his and her arms were against the side. Her breasts, which had threatened to spill out even before, were now held in only by the sheer will of the fabric of her inner kimono.

Maybe that was Murphy's magic working against him.

"I want these off," Yoka said, hooking one of her fingers in his belt loops again. She licked her lips. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face. Her hair was damp and disheveled, adding to her wild appearance. She was a woman who couldn't wait anymore.

With her heels and lipstick and elaborate up-dos, it was easy to forget that several hundred years of working a pole gave Yoka a body made of ripped muscles that allowed her to hold herself upside down six feet in the air with only her knee while also holding another woman and making out with her.

She put that body to work in the last hour.

There was absolutely no way she was going to let him change a tire like this, nor did she give him a chance to argue with her about the stairs. She was damp with sweat from the summer heat and the amount of alcohol she'd drunk and she was not going to give him a chance to argue. Yoka was surprisingly skilled with cars--drag racing was a hobby of hers-- and it wasn't like she considered it emasculating to haul someone up over her shoulder and carry him like she was a fireman bringing him from a burning building.

And now.

Now Yoka wanted a shower.

She leaned back on herself so she was straddling him without dropping her weight on top of him.

"What are you supposed to take for your leg? Are there bandages? Does it need to breath? What did they tell you not to do with it? I want the full list," she said.

Yoka's mind, though still sloshed, had been forced to reconsider Murphy's powers from a whole new perspective. Before, it had been there's nothing to do just go with it. Now, it was there's nothing you can do just pick up the pieces.

Yoka was terrified of the pieces.

Omino · Jul 13, 2017

Murphy like to this kind of himself as a gentleman of sorts.

Okay, so perhaps his vocabulary was a tad abrasive, and maybe he was a little eager to throw down when dialog was the better choice... and maybe he drank more than....

Okay, not a gentleman but he could at least maintain a bit of decorum for the most part.

He tried not to focus on the faults of others,
He did his best to treat everyone with a measure of respect and dignity
He didn't slander other behind their backs

But when Yoka had nearly snarled at him he he started to change the blown tire then proceeded to change the tire herself with the speed and efficiency of a pit crewith member he'd stared.

When she finished and climbed back in, covered in grease and with a light sheen of sweat, he'd stared.

When they'd reached the Cross Fox and she hauled him up the stairs over her shoulder like he weighed nothing, he'd stared.

And even now with her straddling him, demanding to know what the doctor had instructed, he struggled to remember how words worked as a singular thought occupied his mind in its entirety.

Yoka was hot.

No, no, girls dancing in clubs were hot. Women in eveningwear making eyes across a bar were hot. A dancer spinning on a pole was hot. Hot was something superficial, something practiced and actively used to attract others to you.

Yoka... was gorgeous.

Even just changing a god damned tire, one of the most mundane tasks in creation, she was beautiful. They way she moved and flexed, the way she wasn't afraid to get dirty, hell, even they way she'd shouted at him, demanding he lay off his leg had been attractive.

But there was more just beauty to her actions. Especially whenever he tried to help, risking even a little damage to his leg shed become... almost feral. The more he looked at her the more clear it became that she wasn't quite... human if he had to put a name to it.

He doubted anyone ellse could really see it. Hell he wasnt even sure she noticed as sloshed she was. But it reminded him that one top of everything else, he had to remember she was dangerous. She had the ability to kill him with hardly a thought... and get away with it.

So as she towered above him, disheveled and gorgeous, demanding that he answer her he felt.... shit what was that word.... scaroused?

"Er, What?"

@ReD

ReD · Jul 13, 2017

As Yoka looked down at him, her amber eyes narrowed, her lips pursed into a grim line as though she was about to fire someone, she considered what Murphy had just said to her.

What.

Yoka replayed the evidence in her head, as though she was standing before a court room.

"Exhibit A, your honor," her brain said. "This is Murphy, coming to drive your drunk ass when he should be on bedrest. Bedrest, which, you might recall, is needed as a result of the actions of the defendant."

Yoka's brain picked up the empty coffee cup which Yoka had finished. "Consider this, your honor, Exhibit B: THE WHIP CREAM."

Her left ear twitched as this scene played through her head.

"But wait, Your honor, there has been a new development. There has been..THIS. Whatever THIS is. and what is it, your honor? Is it a lack of listening? Is it heat exhaustion? Is it....god what is that smell? Is it sake? And not your name, your honor, but the actual drink? You smell like plums."

Yoka's nose twitched as she looked down at him.

He was lucky. He'd escaped the guilty verdict. She sashayed her hips without thought, rocking back on her heels. She suspected he would have liked the punishment, though.

"I'm not a doctor, Murphy," she said. "And I suspect that even if it was, it probably wouldn't matter. But I do need to know what they told you. I don't have a medical degree, but I do have google."

And, she had to admit, a healthy respect for advice from a medical professional.

She rolled off to the left and onto the bed next to him, looking up at the wooden beams over the ceiling. Funny how years ago hiding the beams was a thing and now everyone wanted to see them again.

Omino · Jul 13, 2017

Okay, so the good news was that after she rolled off of him his brain kicked back into gear.

Bad news, now he couldn't stop thinking about her staying there.

Eventually the mammalian brain reestablished dominance and he finally pieced together what she wanted... and had only taken her telling him twice.

"Got a prescription for some heavy duty painkillers and antibiotics to stave off infection at my cabin. It's healed enough that I can lightly cover it but I probably shouldn't wear jeans, yeah."

He thought back to what exactly he'd been told through the haze of morphine, "I'm not supposed to run, do any heavy lifting, take stairs etc. But most of all what puts the injury at most risk is....er...well..."

Screw it no point hiding it now. "...[sub]driving[/sub]." He mumbled.

"I mean, I'm sure it's just a precaution, I'll just drive back home carefully for some stuff and come back. What the worst... I mean nothings going to..."

Yeah... he doubted that Yoka had been facetious about actually keeping him confined to bed for nearly a week.

"Please?" He tried, feebly.
@ReD

ReD · Jul 13, 2017

Yoka rolled onto her side when he started to talk, and she was glad she did and then, at the same time, she wasn't glad she did because she didn't stop herself from lifting her eyebrows in surprise quick enough.

She made a mental note of everything he was telling her, which was a lot harder than it should be, but then again, that had been how many bottles of sake? Yoka did not drink often and for very good reasons.

Fuck she never considered the hang over she'd have tomorrow.

"Okay, so the pants are definitely coming off then," she said, again tapping at his belt loops. She lifted her eyebrows and stuck out her tongue. "And no stairs, I guess that means you are stuck up here now."

A cold wave went through her, but it wasn't visible. She didn't like the idea of him trying to go down them without her there. Fuck, he'd probably somehow go through them. The building itself was solid and up to code, but it was old.

Her eyes narrowed at driving and she said, "You're lucky your loyalty to me won you over so many points in the cute department that the Court is willing to overlook this infraction."

She'd forgotten he hadn't been in her head for the whole courtroom thing.

"No," she said. "I will send someone to fetch it. Is there anything else you will need? Any personal affects that need to be brought or taken care of?"

She had opened her mouth to say something, and then stopped herself. She frowned, and it was a rare expression, one that she left on her face because she'd been drinking, she already felt vulnerable, and she didn't think too much to cover it up. Her jaw unclenched, her features softening, and some of the tension around her eyes released. She looked younger then, as though her five hundred years could have been an elaborate lie. Yoka did not put too much stock in being bossy. She knew how to be demure. She knew how to be coy. She'd been doing it for so long that when she was in a position to be in charge, when she didn't have to submit her will to someone else's, she grabbed hold of that power and wielded it with a tight grip.

But this wasn't a business deal. This wasn't an issue of pride.

"is there someone you would trust to run out and get it that you would rather send?" she asked.

This was someone else's life.

Sometimes, it was hard to pull back.

After another moment, she asked, "Murphy...what's the worst thing that could happen about staying here for a few days?"

It wasn't a rhetorical question.

She was very serious. She examined him the way she had in the car, waiting for his answer. She wanted to know just what she had to prepare for.

Omino · Jul 14, 2017

Murphy shifted a little on the bed trying to get comfortable but something about it felt off. There wasn't the usual shooting pain from a busted spring digging into his shoulder and it was far softer than the questionable mattress he usually slept on.

More importantly it smelled like Yoka.

He rolled over to meet her gaze and wondered WHY the idea of staying here for a while upset him. Yoka was a wonderful woman, and he was certain she wasn't going to cause him any intentional pain. She also had access to the resources needed to help him recover quickly, so why did the idea of being here for an extended time cause his stomach to turn?

The answer, it turned out, was three fold.

First, everything she had here was nice. The bed alone probably cost more than the entire contents of his cabin. She had worked long and hard for the things she owned and the longer he stuck around, the more likely it was something would get damaged.

Second, while everything here was nice, none of it was his. It was a stupid thing to be concerned about, he knew but while everything he owned might have been low quality, all of it had survived the worst his powers had to offer. When you were used to everything breaking or disappearing on you, you ended up getting really attached to anything that stuck around.

Three. Well, perhaps it was just because he was so spooled up but he began to worry that maybe...just maybe... Yoka was going to get sick of him. She couldn't always be with him, and without her abilities could tearing his, things around him would slowly get worse and worse. What would happen when she found someone better. Someone who could give her whatever she wanted racer than just be a drain on her and her resources. What if....

ENOUGH.

He screwed his eyes shut tightly and forced the thoughts away. He would NOT later paranoia ruin this now that finally something was going right.

Not again.

The first step was to trust Yoka. Not as a boss, but as someone who really cared about him.

"Anyone you trust, I trust. Just tell them to be careful of the baby hydra that will probably be lurking about. She gets a bit protective of my stuff."

Nip, another factor he hadn't considered. Oh she was capable enough of hunting her own food but left to her own devices she would likely wander off to look for him. Needy little thing.

He pondered her question before realizing that she was being literal.

"As long as I'm just resting and not stressed out things should generally be okay."

He rolled over and gave her a cheeky grin.

"I mean the best defense would be for you to spend all day in bed with me, obviously, but I'm sure that's not entirely feasible."

He pointed to a few potential threats around the room.

"Candles should be fine as long as you don't light them or leave them near me. Your electricity might flicker ocassionally so make sure to unplug important things when you're not using them. Be careful going down the stairs even without me as my gift seems to like getting the parting shot. Other than that, barring an actual NATURAL disaster things should be relatively okay."

The smile faded into a weak grimace.

"You... still alright with me staying?"

@ReD

ReD · Jul 14, 2017

Yoka nodded, taking note of the instructions Murphy gave her, both for the collection of his personal affairs and for the precautions of the apartment.

She did put up a hand up and stop him at one point.

"Can you back up for a moment darling?" she asked, tapping two of her amber nails against each other. "I'm sorry, did you just say, BABY HYRDA?"

Yoka was again quite certain she had chosen well with this one. He was, quite arguably, the unluckiest guy in the world and yet he somehow had befriended and kept a baby god damn hyrda in his home?

She gave a short, surprised laugh just thinking about it.

Baby. Hydra.

"Murphy you are full of surprises," she said.

When his smile started to fade, Yoka inched closer. She was almost close enough to fit her body against the crook of his, but there was no way to do that without mashing her chest up against him, and there had been no talk of boundaries or how fast things should move so Yoka didn't push further.

"I wouldn't have asked if I was not okay with it," she reassured him. Her voice was low and soft. For a moment, Yoka's lips parted, ready to tell him something she did not like to tell others, but she changed her mind at the last minute.

She would not tell him. She would not have the beginning of this, whatever this was, tainted by even the possibility of suspicion. While it was true that Yoka felt guilt, she felt more than that. She liked Murphy. She liked the idea of this, whatever this was.

She did not like the idea of telling him why some men--and women--were desperate to get a night with her.

Instead, she said, "Come here."

She kissed him again.

It was a different kind of kiss than the one she gave him in the car. This was not a fast kiss, a kiss where she didn't care who was watching. This was not a kiss spawned from the realization that she did not want to even consider the possibility of losing him.

This was a slow, private kiss, just for him.

This kiss was the stuff of pillow talk after screaming sex. This kiss was the low rise of fog after a rainstorm at night.

"Murphy," she whispered, and she tried to keep his name from dripping sex, but it was hard when she was relaxed and her powers were sleeping through. "I cannot predict the future. I cannot change fate."

Not yet anyway. Give her another four hundred years and Yoka was going to be a damn hard force to be reckoned with.

"But I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, and I will do what I can to quell any doubts you have. The rest we can figure out along the way, okay?" she said.

She did not expect this to be an easy transition.

But Yoka fully expected to enjoy every second of it.

She kissed him again just because she could.

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Luck be a lady (ReD)

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