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Post by maggiewritersblock on Dec 3, 2010 20:29:49 GMT -5
Intrigue.
Something that didn't come often to Robert Sheldon. However, with one scan of the club, he noticed someone.
The slender figure of a woman who couldn't have been too much older than him. The light was catching her hair oh so captivatingly and--Bob would never admit it--she was driving him insane. Something about her gave him this burning desire that didn't allow him to concentrate on anything else.
He knew it was rude to stare--it had been drilled into his brain constantly as a child--and he should have just turned around and stared back at his scotch like he had been doing. However, it seemed like there was no going back now that he had laid eyes on her.
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Post by LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS on Dec 8, 2010 20:41:43 GMT -5
A visage of imperturbability, forged from the fragments of herself she knew she could falsify and with skillful appliance, laid siege to the habitually veiled Kitty. Rare were the moments when she relaxed her guard and allowed that human vulnerability to shine through the shadowy depths in which she shrouded her being. Those moments were few and far between, though they had been growing restless and developed a knack for popping up for appearances lately. Her unmasked self was reserved for those who had gathered enough patience to wait out the diminishing of her defenses. She could count the number of those that she trusted on one hand and there wasn’t any other truth in the world that unnerved her quite like that realization. There was an inherent fear of betrayal, of enduring trials of a perfidious nature that stole away any semblance of happiness she could muster. Every time happiness ended up in the grasp of hopeless individuals, much like those along the lines of Kitty, it wriggled and writhed free, ultimately retreating to an even more obscure hiding place than the last. Conceding defeat almost seemed inevitable. It was with these thoughts keeping her company, ones more destructive than she would ever admit to, that she found herself in a nightclub at Spider’s behest. Apparently, he was revamping his prostitution ring somewhat or at least making an effort to, anyway. Prostitution in itself was a discriminatory commerce so suffice it to say that Kitty was not the least bit staggered by Spider selecting her for his little experiment. Judging by how the night’s events had transpired, it was relatively safe to assume that Kitty had no future in the escort business. She could be charming, this was true, and exude an air of magnetism with relative ease, but with strangers there was always a clear motive. A trade was to be made, their money for her insincere indulgence of their lasciviousness, and that provided an infinitesimal sense of comfort where there existed none. With street prostitution, her area of expertise, there existed a detachment of being and a prevalent lack of intimacy. Once a client had been baited, it was sickeningly simple to prize his money from him. Escorts were women of a different stock, of a different societal group entirely. She had been charged with entertaining the client’s company with mild conversation and culminating their time together with leveled intimacy. Unfortunately, Kitty preferred to remain as impersonal as she could with clients and that extended to even holding conversations with them. She was of too honest a heart for her to excel in such practiced deceit. This was noted and so there she lingered, nursing a drink that he had been generous enough to provide her with before he excused himself to the men’s room. The sonorous rhythm of the music thrummed throughout, pulsating with vigor of the life that crowded the club. The only solace she found tangible was how easily she could join them in their masquerade, vacant of any individuality and allowing for her to temporarily lose herself in a sea of faces. Come to find out that she wasn’t as disregarded as she had led herself to believe. Stare at someone long enough and they are bound to sense it. Kitty was no exception. Mid-way through swirling her finger along the rim of her glass, she sensed it and stilled her movements completely. Slowly flitting her eyes to the side, in the direction of where the stare originated, she was met by the sight of a man, fairly young from what she could tell. Acknowledging his refined features, she noted that if it wasn’t for the burning lust she’d pinned in his hooded eyes, brows lowered and adding a great deal of mischief to his expression, he would have an accommodating face. Steeling herself and taking a swig of her drink before slantly facing him, she arched a brow at him, treating her voice louder to avoid being drowned out by the sonorous distractions the club boasted, “If you were looking to get my attention, you’ve got it. Now what do you want with it?” (Alex took forever to respond. Bad Alex. Alex is sowwy. :< Also, ignore the blond hair in that picture. Damn Rachel, her blond hair, and my ignorance in coloring graphics. ><) |
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Post by maggiewritersblock on Feb 16, 2011 18:17:24 GMT -5
She was right. He did indeed have her attention. However, Bob--feeling much like the awkward, nerdy freshman who brought him Gatorade during football games--had no idea what to do. In those few seconds, Bob lost his years of female-charming skills. In his moment of blank, all he could think to do was slide his pressed lips into his signature, charming smile.
As she stood closer to him, he couldn't find what was so intriguing about her. She was beautiful, true, but surely Bob had seen better in the super models he'd hooked-up with at parties. But, when he let his eyes trail up and down her form, his normally-judging mind couldn't find one flaw.
"Beautiful," he said finally. "I'm going to buy you a drink."
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