Post by Demios on Mar 19, 2010 10:59:38 GMT -5
Ilani
THREE DAYS LATER
"And then, the guy ACTUALLY came up and pinned her against the wall, asking what it would take to get her naked! And what does our Moonie say? 'Take a step back, or I'll rip your nuts off!" A cacophany of laughter filled the empty room that housed the main stage and coveted bar of The Pit. Floating around the array of booths at the far end, Cash and an assorted array of his fellow ghosts broke out into hysterical laughter, ectoplasm flying in all directions as they smacked each other on the shoulder.
Man, this is what happens when she decides to take a night out on the town: see her friend disappear into thin air, almost let herself get molested by a hot creepola, and get made fun of by the dearly depated. There was a reason why she liked to stay in her 'comfort bubble.'
"Oh, hardy, har har," Half propped up on a barstool, Ilani grunted as she put a bit of muscle into scrubbing oddly colored stains from the bar counter. Glaring over her shoulder at the ghosts, still guffawing and snickering as they looked over at her, she resisted the urge to toss her towel at their collective heads. Straightening, she raised a brow and looked directly at Cash, who seemed to wilt a bit under her stare. "Did Mr. Pee My Pants tell you that he was practically screaming like a girl, when he found out that my Would-Be Molester wasn't normal?" Cash made a strangled noise while the other ghosts broke out into laughter once more. Ha, score one for the snarly Moonie.
Tossing her towel into the sink behind the bar, she hopped off of her stool and took a look around the room. One black cowboy boot tapped idly on the scarred wood beneath her as she surveyed the various cracks, stains and dents that had to be fixed before the Fire Marshall came over and condemned the place. But damn, if she wasn't tired as all hell! She needed a man...in more ways than one, and those hot and sweaty dreams she'd been having every damn night since Singe My Panties Off pinned her against the wall. What was it with her and the bad boys? They were good for nothing but being some eye candy on a Friday night; the love 'em and leave 'em type that she was always getting into trouble with. Take her ex, for example: Mr. Big, Bad Biker Man, with muscles and tats enough to make her black little heart skip a beat. They'd been together for six months- a freaking ETERNITY for a girl like her- and she'd slowly felt herself letting down various defenses, letting him get under her skin. And what does he do? Two time her with some blond slut she'd hired to take the weight off of her bartenders. Shaking her head, she rounded the bar with a sigh.
"What's done is done," She muttered to herself, kneeling to fiddle with the stereo. "Last frikken time I fall in love with a biker. THIS is why God created the hook up. Jesus, gimme some music before I...MWAHA!" With a crash of acoustic guitars, Theory of a Deadman's "Bad Girlfriend" came screaming through the speakers, filling the room with the obnoxious sound of rock. Dancing back out into the room, she rocked out to the music, sighing in relief as the melody seemed to clear her mind. She hated to dwell on the past, and now that Benji was out of her life- and sporting ten stitches, an indentation of a stapler in his head and a broken nose- she was free to move on.
As Tyler Connelly howled about his girlfriend's grinding ass, Ilani hopped into the center of the room with a broom in her hand, dancing around the rotting wood with a whoop. She'd replaced skull hair pieces with bloody vampire fangs, and her now neon green streaked hair bobbed in time with her movements. A pair of Daisy Duke shorts hugged her thighs, and a cut off 'Wanna Touch My Wiener' tshirt showed off her favorite diamond belly button ring. When the guitar solo came up, she rested the broom on her hip, rocking out in time with the music.
It was time to move on, get her mind on the future and stop thinking about men. It would be hard, it would be painful, but she will survive!
Demios
Damn, it really was amazing what a guy could over hear when he dropped into places unexpectedly. Concealing his presence for the moment, Demios leaned on the wall and watched a bunch of spirits torment the brunette about none other than himself. He didn't know whether to be amused or disgruntled at their banter but her come back line had a smirk curving over his lips. Allowing himself the opportunity to just observe the woman at her normal activities, the god was amused to see her dancing with a broom and do things with that body that would drive any sane man crazy. Ok, well, ANY MAN in general. He hadn't ever claimed to be completely sane so...
As he watched her, Demios wondered at the best way of approaching her. After watching her high tail it out of the club the other night, he decided that the direct approach evidently hadn't been the way to go as it had earned him the first setdown of his lifetime. Most women took on look at him and immediately fell straight into his lap. It was just a part of his whole "god" vibe and women where nothing if not crazy about a little power. Unfortunately, however, all that easy acquiance had gotten dull and he found himself turning more than one beautiful bimbo down in favor of spending the night alone in his ebony headboarded bed of sin. Really, it was almost enough to make him worry.
Or, at least had been until his eyes had landed on this woman and every part of him had sat up and taken notice. Quite literally in fact. The fact that she'd had the wits to leave him standing like a gauky young fool only made the desire to have her even more papable. It was only by the patience earned over several long centuries that he had kept himself from popping right into her apartment and seducing the no right off her lips. SOmething told him she would NOT have appreciated that and he was strangely hesitant to anger her anymore than he already had. Yeah, he was really screwed up if he was actually taking time to consider a WOMAN's feelings and not his own pounding lust.
No doubt Phobos would laugh himself silly if he could see his twin now.. All wrapped up over a female and unable to find any release. Just that thought had him shuddering and pushing away from the wall to manifest his presence in the bar. He knew the moment the ghosts spotted him but he hushed them with a wave of his hand and moved to stand with his arms crossed by the counter. "Business must be really hard up if your forced to dance with a wooden stick... and a grimmy one at that." he drawled out, careful to keep far enough away that she couldn't stab him with said object.
Ilani:
So, there she was, dancing her little heart out in an attempt to pretend that life was great. She was feeling all sexy, thanks to Theory of a Deadman, and loving the little hoots and whistles she was getting from the gathered ghosts. Some were even joining her on the dance floor; various couples and soldiers boogying to the beat as best as their musical training would allow. Some poor Victorian broads were doing some kind of weird penguin dance, a few cowboys were shaking their butts like there was no tomorrow, Cash was trying to hump a recently deceased fashion designer...
All in all, things weren't too bad. THIS was why she loved her music and turned to it every chance she got. With the melody, the sometimes hilarious lyrics and the pounding beat? There just wasn't any room for life's little miseries.
So, call her really freaking sad when the song finally ended, giving rise to the sound of a shiver-inspiring familiar voice. With a yelp, Ilani spun around so fast that the broom went flying, crashing into a table with a loud smack. Years spent living on the streets had her instinctively striking a defensive pose, cowboy boots clicking as she spread her legs, and the soft 'clink' of a switchblade as she snapped it open in one hand. There were reasons why it was a well known fact among those who know her, that sneaking up on Mad Moonie was a death threat.
It took her a minute to recognize that familiar face- and cue some insta-drooling here- and with a disgruntled sound, she slowly eased out of the posture, snapping her blade closed. "Business is just fine, thank you." She said with a frown, rolling her shoulders to force stiff muscles to relax. "And that broom is not grimy. It's just seen one too many doggy jaws in the past, that's all. But buddy, don't you EVER sneak up on me like that again, or I'll de-nut you so fast, your pocket full of fawning women will wonder how they slept with someone's who's neutered!" Now, if only her voice didn't sound so darn breathless, and the threat would have come off as mean as she'd meant it. Hell, she really did hate her libido sometimes. Dammit, stop imagining him tied naked to your bed, she howled at the overworked part of her brain. We're into good guys now! Not rugged, sexy, probably growly Mmmrowrs on Sticks! ...Aw, who was she kidding? She was ready to jump him right then and there, his McSnarly friend or no.
And speaking of McSnarly...her brows drew down in a show of confusion as she looked at him, then at the locked front door. How in all that was holy did he get inside? She liked to keep the front door locked- and, in some cases, barred depending on the day- to keep the regulars out until opening, and as far as she remembered, the door that led up to her place had never opened. So, the question of the day: how the heck did he get there?
Oh no, she didn't want to answer that. But, of course, she did. "Um...okay, so either I'm ready for the Funny Farm, or you just poofed in here. Like that scary guy poofed outta the club with my friend the other night." Closing her eyes, rubbed at her now aching temples. "Great. First werewolves exist, then a vampire tries to eat my ass, and now hot guys can pop in and out of various rooms. Wonderful. Awesome. Gah, I need a drink."
Ignoring him, she trotted around the bar, doing her damndest to ignore the tingly feeling she was getting at those eyes on her. Man, the guy was a walking Sex on a Stick. Snagging a bottle of her favorite whiskey, she took out two shot glasses and poured a liberal amount. "I hate to drink alone, so inhale this for me, please. Now...please explain to me what the heck you are and what the heck you want with me? And I swear, don't say 'because you intrigue me.' The last guy who used that line tried to suck all my blood out my arm."
Demios:
Demios simply couldn't help it. He laughed. The woman was all fire and brimstone but she had NO idea what she was dealing with in him. He wasn't on of her pussy footed mortal males she could order around and not expect to pay the consequence. On second thought, maybe she could because those said consequences could be VERY enjoyable to them both. He liked a bit of attitude and sassy to his women... It made things oh so much more enjoyable when he had them under him finally and making them scream his name in pleasure.
One dark, brooding look at the spirits and they poofed like yesterdays news leaving he and Ilani alone. Oh yeah.. there were definitely times it was good to have that mean son of a bitch reputation in the land of the dead and ..well, the living too. Letting his eyes trail over her form as she stalked towards the bar and poured two shots of liquor, he couldn't help but admire the snazzy way she carried of blood covered fangs and leather. There weren't many women who enjoyed a bit of suggested blood and gore and he wondered how she felt about causing a bit of mayhem.
Strolling with the ease of a born predator, he reached the bar and then leaned a hip on the counter. His eyes danced with mirth as he saluted her with the shot glass and then tossed it back. It was obvious that he made her uneasy but then.. Hell.. who DIDN'T he make uneasy? It was the story of his life. And his mother wondered why he didn't have many friends, he thought with an inward snort. Aphrodite had much lamented the fact that all her sons had taken more after their father than herself but what the bloody hell had she expected? She'd left them to be raised in the middle of battle and still expected them to maintain a soft edge? NOT BLOODY LIKELY.
The image was so laughable that he and Phobos had amused themselves more than once over such foolishness. If she wanted love children, she should have had them with Cupid instead of crawling in bed with Ares. Although Auntie Psyche would probably have killed her for even looking at the love god with a twinkle in her eye. Mother was just damned lucky that Heph had be to intent on his forges to notice she was shacking up with the wicked Ares.
Turning his attention away from old family squabbles, Demios considered her question and wondered just how much to tell her. The truth might send her screaming away in terror... pun or no pun intended. Unfortunately, he wasn't one to hide what he was and for some reason he had the pesky little problem with always telling the truth. He never lied outright to his victims or associates even though he might not always disclose everything. After all, it wasn't good business to show all your cards at once right?
Settling on an arched brow, he decided to answer her questions with one of his own. "What is it that you think I am? And.. If I have to tell you what I want with you, you would greatly disappoint my expectations of your intelligences." That said, he allowed his eyes to drift over her form with molten heat and then return to her eyes with a wicked glimmer. Picking up the liquor bottle again, he poured them both another shot and then eyed her over the top of one. "I've already told you WHO i am.... I'm Demios... I dropped into town on a ... business trip... and my business has yet to be concluded. Someone said this was a hopping place that might tbe to my tastes so... Here I am..."
Ilani:
With a blink, Ilani stared at the now empty room around them. Holy crap, had he just made her ghosts poof? Or had they poofed because they were afraid of him? Cowards! She was gonna go find some ass-kicking-spell to make those damn invisible monkeys cry like babies. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned her attention back to Yummy Pants...and proceeded to swipe a hand at her chin. The man was walking sex on a stick, with that almost feral look to his face, and the confident way he held himself. She would have been put off by his sardonic tone, but man if the guy didn't pull off the 'Asshole, But In A Good Way' like no other. While he reached for the bottle, intent on pouring them another shot, she took the short time to give him a once over. He was definitely as big as she remembered; tall, muscled and solid in a way that practically screamed a profficiancy in combat.
Was he some kind of soldier? Maybe...a magical soldier? The 'M' word practically made her twitch, her mind switching back to the poofing, the reality-shimmering...the way he pinned her to the wall of the VIP room, as if his mere presence was enough to make her knees part. Well, not that it didn't...but the way he moved, the way his eyes never left anything out...it was a bit disconcerting. On one level, the bad girl in her recognized a similarly- if not more- bad boy, but she wasn't stupid enough to ignore the danger lurking under the surface.
Excuse her, but grow up with thugs and murderers, and a girl tended to favor keeping her face intact. She'd gone out with her fair share of psychos, and hell if she was eager to repeat the experience.
Jerking her head back, she downed her refilled shot as he spoke, grateful for the warm numbness that followed the potent liquor through her system. "Buddy, you sure do know how to sweet a girl off her feet," She said dryly, raising a brow at him. "Go ahead and insult my intelligence some more. THAT'LL make me give into my whipped cream fantasies."
Heaving herself up, she hopped up onto the bar so that she was sitting cross-legged on the scarred surface, facing him. The guy made her feel dwarfed when on equal ground, she realized with a disgruntled look. But, now that she was perched above him, she had a perfect view of that pretty backside. Ooh, mama, if only she weren't so paranoid. She REALLY wanted to tap that.
Resting her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her knuckles. "That's right, you were the guy with the cool name. I'm so tempted to call you Demi, but you're definitely not a 40 year old woman. So...you're on a business trip; that's pretty cool. And...let's go back to what brought on the insulting thing: you're here 'cause...you're interested? In me? Normally, I'd be flattered and attack you right now, but unfortunately, I've taken a vow to give up bad boys. So sorry."
Demios:
Shaking his head, Demios grinned at her chatter and then arched a brow at her last words. His brows furrowed and then he laughed. "Bad boys? Baby, now don't go lumping me in the same category as those fools. They aren't even on my rictor scale. I could show you things... Do things to you that would leave you shuddering for the next decade. "he said with a long, wicked look. "And sweeping off your feet might be something a gentleman would say but I'd rather have you laid out on this bar like a sinful banquet. I don't believe in mincing words when I want something and you... you I definitely want."
Tossing back another shot, he pushed away from the counter and moved in closer. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he continued. "And I think you already have figured out that I'm anything but ordinary. Most people call me the god of terror and my twin the god of Fear.... Its a name we earned from our enemies." Letting that bit of information sink in, he waited for her reaction as he took in her cute little nose and very kissable lips. He wondered how she would look all warm and satisfied in his bed.
THREE DAYS LATER
"And then, the guy ACTUALLY came up and pinned her against the wall, asking what it would take to get her naked! And what does our Moonie say? 'Take a step back, or I'll rip your nuts off!" A cacophany of laughter filled the empty room that housed the main stage and coveted bar of The Pit. Floating around the array of booths at the far end, Cash and an assorted array of his fellow ghosts broke out into hysterical laughter, ectoplasm flying in all directions as they smacked each other on the shoulder.
Man, this is what happens when she decides to take a night out on the town: see her friend disappear into thin air, almost let herself get molested by a hot creepola, and get made fun of by the dearly depated. There was a reason why she liked to stay in her 'comfort bubble.'
"Oh, hardy, har har," Half propped up on a barstool, Ilani grunted as she put a bit of muscle into scrubbing oddly colored stains from the bar counter. Glaring over her shoulder at the ghosts, still guffawing and snickering as they looked over at her, she resisted the urge to toss her towel at their collective heads. Straightening, she raised a brow and looked directly at Cash, who seemed to wilt a bit under her stare. "Did Mr. Pee My Pants tell you that he was practically screaming like a girl, when he found out that my Would-Be Molester wasn't normal?" Cash made a strangled noise while the other ghosts broke out into laughter once more. Ha, score one for the snarly Moonie.
Tossing her towel into the sink behind the bar, she hopped off of her stool and took a look around the room. One black cowboy boot tapped idly on the scarred wood beneath her as she surveyed the various cracks, stains and dents that had to be fixed before the Fire Marshall came over and condemned the place. But damn, if she wasn't tired as all hell! She needed a man...in more ways than one, and those hot and sweaty dreams she'd been having every damn night since Singe My Panties Off pinned her against the wall. What was it with her and the bad boys? They were good for nothing but being some eye candy on a Friday night; the love 'em and leave 'em type that she was always getting into trouble with. Take her ex, for example: Mr. Big, Bad Biker Man, with muscles and tats enough to make her black little heart skip a beat. They'd been together for six months- a freaking ETERNITY for a girl like her- and she'd slowly felt herself letting down various defenses, letting him get under her skin. And what does he do? Two time her with some blond slut she'd hired to take the weight off of her bartenders. Shaking her head, she rounded the bar with a sigh.
"What's done is done," She muttered to herself, kneeling to fiddle with the stereo. "Last frikken time I fall in love with a biker. THIS is why God created the hook up. Jesus, gimme some music before I...MWAHA!" With a crash of acoustic guitars, Theory of a Deadman's "Bad Girlfriend" came screaming through the speakers, filling the room with the obnoxious sound of rock. Dancing back out into the room, she rocked out to the music, sighing in relief as the melody seemed to clear her mind. She hated to dwell on the past, and now that Benji was out of her life- and sporting ten stitches, an indentation of a stapler in his head and a broken nose- she was free to move on.
As Tyler Connelly howled about his girlfriend's grinding ass, Ilani hopped into the center of the room with a broom in her hand, dancing around the rotting wood with a whoop. She'd replaced skull hair pieces with bloody vampire fangs, and her now neon green streaked hair bobbed in time with her movements. A pair of Daisy Duke shorts hugged her thighs, and a cut off 'Wanna Touch My Wiener' tshirt showed off her favorite diamond belly button ring. When the guitar solo came up, she rested the broom on her hip, rocking out in time with the music.
It was time to move on, get her mind on the future and stop thinking about men. It would be hard, it would be painful, but she will survive!
Demios
Damn, it really was amazing what a guy could over hear when he dropped into places unexpectedly. Concealing his presence for the moment, Demios leaned on the wall and watched a bunch of spirits torment the brunette about none other than himself. He didn't know whether to be amused or disgruntled at their banter but her come back line had a smirk curving over his lips. Allowing himself the opportunity to just observe the woman at her normal activities, the god was amused to see her dancing with a broom and do things with that body that would drive any sane man crazy. Ok, well, ANY MAN in general. He hadn't ever claimed to be completely sane so...
As he watched her, Demios wondered at the best way of approaching her. After watching her high tail it out of the club the other night, he decided that the direct approach evidently hadn't been the way to go as it had earned him the first setdown of his lifetime. Most women took on look at him and immediately fell straight into his lap. It was just a part of his whole "god" vibe and women where nothing if not crazy about a little power. Unfortunately, however, all that easy acquiance had gotten dull and he found himself turning more than one beautiful bimbo down in favor of spending the night alone in his ebony headboarded bed of sin. Really, it was almost enough to make him worry.
Or, at least had been until his eyes had landed on this woman and every part of him had sat up and taken notice. Quite literally in fact. The fact that she'd had the wits to leave him standing like a gauky young fool only made the desire to have her even more papable. It was only by the patience earned over several long centuries that he had kept himself from popping right into her apartment and seducing the no right off her lips. SOmething told him she would NOT have appreciated that and he was strangely hesitant to anger her anymore than he already had. Yeah, he was really screwed up if he was actually taking time to consider a WOMAN's feelings and not his own pounding lust.
No doubt Phobos would laugh himself silly if he could see his twin now.. All wrapped up over a female and unable to find any release. Just that thought had him shuddering and pushing away from the wall to manifest his presence in the bar. He knew the moment the ghosts spotted him but he hushed them with a wave of his hand and moved to stand with his arms crossed by the counter. "Business must be really hard up if your forced to dance with a wooden stick... and a grimmy one at that." he drawled out, careful to keep far enough away that she couldn't stab him with said object.
Ilani:
So, there she was, dancing her little heart out in an attempt to pretend that life was great. She was feeling all sexy, thanks to Theory of a Deadman, and loving the little hoots and whistles she was getting from the gathered ghosts. Some were even joining her on the dance floor; various couples and soldiers boogying to the beat as best as their musical training would allow. Some poor Victorian broads were doing some kind of weird penguin dance, a few cowboys were shaking their butts like there was no tomorrow, Cash was trying to hump a recently deceased fashion designer...
All in all, things weren't too bad. THIS was why she loved her music and turned to it every chance she got. With the melody, the sometimes hilarious lyrics and the pounding beat? There just wasn't any room for life's little miseries.
So, call her really freaking sad when the song finally ended, giving rise to the sound of a shiver-inspiring familiar voice. With a yelp, Ilani spun around so fast that the broom went flying, crashing into a table with a loud smack. Years spent living on the streets had her instinctively striking a defensive pose, cowboy boots clicking as she spread her legs, and the soft 'clink' of a switchblade as she snapped it open in one hand. There were reasons why it was a well known fact among those who know her, that sneaking up on Mad Moonie was a death threat.
It took her a minute to recognize that familiar face- and cue some insta-drooling here- and with a disgruntled sound, she slowly eased out of the posture, snapping her blade closed. "Business is just fine, thank you." She said with a frown, rolling her shoulders to force stiff muscles to relax. "And that broom is not grimy. It's just seen one too many doggy jaws in the past, that's all. But buddy, don't you EVER sneak up on me like that again, or I'll de-nut you so fast, your pocket full of fawning women will wonder how they slept with someone's who's neutered!" Now, if only her voice didn't sound so darn breathless, and the threat would have come off as mean as she'd meant it. Hell, she really did hate her libido sometimes. Dammit, stop imagining him tied naked to your bed, she howled at the overworked part of her brain. We're into good guys now! Not rugged, sexy, probably growly Mmmrowrs on Sticks! ...Aw, who was she kidding? She was ready to jump him right then and there, his McSnarly friend or no.
And speaking of McSnarly...her brows drew down in a show of confusion as she looked at him, then at the locked front door. How in all that was holy did he get inside? She liked to keep the front door locked- and, in some cases, barred depending on the day- to keep the regulars out until opening, and as far as she remembered, the door that led up to her place had never opened. So, the question of the day: how the heck did he get there?
Oh no, she didn't want to answer that. But, of course, she did. "Um...okay, so either I'm ready for the Funny Farm, or you just poofed in here. Like that scary guy poofed outta the club with my friend the other night." Closing her eyes, rubbed at her now aching temples. "Great. First werewolves exist, then a vampire tries to eat my ass, and now hot guys can pop in and out of various rooms. Wonderful. Awesome. Gah, I need a drink."
Ignoring him, she trotted around the bar, doing her damndest to ignore the tingly feeling she was getting at those eyes on her. Man, the guy was a walking Sex on a Stick. Snagging a bottle of her favorite whiskey, she took out two shot glasses and poured a liberal amount. "I hate to drink alone, so inhale this for me, please. Now...please explain to me what the heck you are and what the heck you want with me? And I swear, don't say 'because you intrigue me.' The last guy who used that line tried to suck all my blood out my arm."
Demios:
Demios simply couldn't help it. He laughed. The woman was all fire and brimstone but she had NO idea what she was dealing with in him. He wasn't on of her pussy footed mortal males she could order around and not expect to pay the consequence. On second thought, maybe she could because those said consequences could be VERY enjoyable to them both. He liked a bit of attitude and sassy to his women... It made things oh so much more enjoyable when he had them under him finally and making them scream his name in pleasure.
One dark, brooding look at the spirits and they poofed like yesterdays news leaving he and Ilani alone. Oh yeah.. there were definitely times it was good to have that mean son of a bitch reputation in the land of the dead and ..well, the living too. Letting his eyes trail over her form as she stalked towards the bar and poured two shots of liquor, he couldn't help but admire the snazzy way she carried of blood covered fangs and leather. There weren't many women who enjoyed a bit of suggested blood and gore and he wondered how she felt about causing a bit of mayhem.
Strolling with the ease of a born predator, he reached the bar and then leaned a hip on the counter. His eyes danced with mirth as he saluted her with the shot glass and then tossed it back. It was obvious that he made her uneasy but then.. Hell.. who DIDN'T he make uneasy? It was the story of his life. And his mother wondered why he didn't have many friends, he thought with an inward snort. Aphrodite had much lamented the fact that all her sons had taken more after their father than herself but what the bloody hell had she expected? She'd left them to be raised in the middle of battle and still expected them to maintain a soft edge? NOT BLOODY LIKELY.
The image was so laughable that he and Phobos had amused themselves more than once over such foolishness. If she wanted love children, she should have had them with Cupid instead of crawling in bed with Ares. Although Auntie Psyche would probably have killed her for even looking at the love god with a twinkle in her eye. Mother was just damned lucky that Heph had be to intent on his forges to notice she was shacking up with the wicked Ares.
Turning his attention away from old family squabbles, Demios considered her question and wondered just how much to tell her. The truth might send her screaming away in terror... pun or no pun intended. Unfortunately, he wasn't one to hide what he was and for some reason he had the pesky little problem with always telling the truth. He never lied outright to his victims or associates even though he might not always disclose everything. After all, it wasn't good business to show all your cards at once right?
Settling on an arched brow, he decided to answer her questions with one of his own. "What is it that you think I am? And.. If I have to tell you what I want with you, you would greatly disappoint my expectations of your intelligences." That said, he allowed his eyes to drift over her form with molten heat and then return to her eyes with a wicked glimmer. Picking up the liquor bottle again, he poured them both another shot and then eyed her over the top of one. "I've already told you WHO i am.... I'm Demios... I dropped into town on a ... business trip... and my business has yet to be concluded. Someone said this was a hopping place that might tbe to my tastes so... Here I am..."
Ilani:
With a blink, Ilani stared at the now empty room around them. Holy crap, had he just made her ghosts poof? Or had they poofed because they were afraid of him? Cowards! She was gonna go find some ass-kicking-spell to make those damn invisible monkeys cry like babies. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned her attention back to Yummy Pants...and proceeded to swipe a hand at her chin. The man was walking sex on a stick, with that almost feral look to his face, and the confident way he held himself. She would have been put off by his sardonic tone, but man if the guy didn't pull off the 'Asshole, But In A Good Way' like no other. While he reached for the bottle, intent on pouring them another shot, she took the short time to give him a once over. He was definitely as big as she remembered; tall, muscled and solid in a way that practically screamed a profficiancy in combat.
Was he some kind of soldier? Maybe...a magical soldier? The 'M' word practically made her twitch, her mind switching back to the poofing, the reality-shimmering...the way he pinned her to the wall of the VIP room, as if his mere presence was enough to make her knees part. Well, not that it didn't...but the way he moved, the way his eyes never left anything out...it was a bit disconcerting. On one level, the bad girl in her recognized a similarly- if not more- bad boy, but she wasn't stupid enough to ignore the danger lurking under the surface.
Excuse her, but grow up with thugs and murderers, and a girl tended to favor keeping her face intact. She'd gone out with her fair share of psychos, and hell if she was eager to repeat the experience.
Jerking her head back, she downed her refilled shot as he spoke, grateful for the warm numbness that followed the potent liquor through her system. "Buddy, you sure do know how to sweet a girl off her feet," She said dryly, raising a brow at him. "Go ahead and insult my intelligence some more. THAT'LL make me give into my whipped cream fantasies."
Heaving herself up, she hopped up onto the bar so that she was sitting cross-legged on the scarred surface, facing him. The guy made her feel dwarfed when on equal ground, she realized with a disgruntled look. But, now that she was perched above him, she had a perfect view of that pretty backside. Ooh, mama, if only she weren't so paranoid. She REALLY wanted to tap that.
Resting her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her knuckles. "That's right, you were the guy with the cool name. I'm so tempted to call you Demi, but you're definitely not a 40 year old woman. So...you're on a business trip; that's pretty cool. And...let's go back to what brought on the insulting thing: you're here 'cause...you're interested? In me? Normally, I'd be flattered and attack you right now, but unfortunately, I've taken a vow to give up bad boys. So sorry."
Demios:
Shaking his head, Demios grinned at her chatter and then arched a brow at her last words. His brows furrowed and then he laughed. "Bad boys? Baby, now don't go lumping me in the same category as those fools. They aren't even on my rictor scale. I could show you things... Do things to you that would leave you shuddering for the next decade. "he said with a long, wicked look. "And sweeping off your feet might be something a gentleman would say but I'd rather have you laid out on this bar like a sinful banquet. I don't believe in mincing words when I want something and you... you I definitely want."
Tossing back another shot, he pushed away from the counter and moved in closer. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he continued. "And I think you already have figured out that I'm anything but ordinary. Most people call me the god of terror and my twin the god of Fear.... Its a name we earned from our enemies." Letting that bit of information sink in, he waited for her reaction as he took in her cute little nose and very kissable lips. He wondered how she would look all warm and satisfied in his bed.