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It was glorious.
Everything good happened when she witnessed fire burn away everything. Ripples of pleasure permeated through her body, forcing her to stand on rubber legs as she watched the flames erase all that was. This was one of the—if not the largest—inferno she ever witnessed. And that was coming from a user of a Magic aptly named ‘Napalm.’
She felt at ease. A serenity washed over her, and her troubles burned away with the rest of the dense vegetation surrounding them. Unfortunately, reality decided to bare its wicked fangs once more as she witnessed in the corner of her eye the ground underneath her partner rising.
”Under you! I’m Jerusalem Godfrey, by the way! AJ’s cousin!”
It was the most she could do. The last thing she needed to do was try to solve the problem by shooting fire in her partner’s direction. Hopefully she would avoid, because it wasn’t patient in revealing itself. A large Venus flytrap abomination, eager to catch the fire mage in its jaws.
Ivory Volkov | Post 6 |
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Jerusalem had a good poker face. It was her normal face. She often looked deadpan and disinterested as though the world singlehandedly killed all expectations, hopes, dreams, and even trampled on her pet dog Fido. Often, she looked as though when she took Fido to the vet, they told her they didn’t treat the pets of people with purple hair. That was how dead her expression was—it made it easy for her to maintain a poker face.
So, when she saw the temporary elation in Audrey’s face, she had a good idea that she might have a good hand. Maybe the happiness was a bluff itself, but she doubted it. In fact, she didn’t care if that was the case. This seemed like the best course of action in her head, and she was going to do it because she had a spine in her back.
”I fold,” she said, placing the cards down. Well, that was something at least. Maybe if she started getting better hands than greater abilities to see through bluffs, she may be able to turn the tide of the game. Though they were bound for the same outcome anyway. ”Soz about that.”
Jerusalem Godfrey | Post 7 |
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While she made her way closer to the warehouse alongside Audrey, she made sure to stay behind her. She stayed behind the albino because she could guard her in a pinch that way. Additionally, she stayed behind her to keep her eyes glued to her shapely ass while she proceeded onwards. That held more priority over the objective, the taunts thrown in the direction of the goons, the drugs and anything else. Maintaining a vigil over that—it brought her great joy as she continued to walk inattentively.
Oh, and staying out of side and all.
In fact, she was paying more attention to her rear than she did the bullets ricocheting off her and the various snipers having their heads blown off their shoulders. Still, she did her duty. Once given permission to start burning things, the woman secreted napalm from her palms. Pointing her hands forward, she began to eject a veritable sea of the viscous solution. While it jettisoned from her hands, she ignited it at the same time.
And it burst into flames. Heavy clouds of smoke and molten flame stuck to unfortunate thugs and burned them alive. Unlike fire, burning napalm was incapable of being taken off since the gel served as an adhesive. The inferno that ensued burned at four times the heat of fire, and about double the temperature of molten rock. In short, anything that came in the path of her colossal flames would be burned alive in the most horrible manner possible.
As expected, her expression reflected pure elation.
Audrey Iron | Post 6 |
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The lone thought coursing through her mind when the redhead asked about her true feelings revolved around disbelief. It was hard to believe she saw herself as unattractive—because she was such a far concept from the prospect that the ocean itself did not possess enough miles to convey the distance. A small, dry laugh escaped from her when posed with the question, and she shook her head.
”No, you’re hot. You have a pair of mesmerizing, red eyes and very long, beautiful red hair. Flawless fair skin, and a face with a nice shape to it. You have a bit of a peek-a-boo bang going on, with long sidelocks. As for your body itself, it should be a crime to say anything bad about it. You’re not a sow; you have curves for days. You look like the kind of woman people would die for a chance to spend the night with,” she began, her lips curling into a small smirk once more.
”Flexible is one way too describe it. I hope you always wear that, or nothing at all, when you’re around me. Believe me, I’d never get tired of looking.”
Maybe it wasn’t a lot off the redhead’s chest, but it was a weight off hers. Couldn’t have the woman believing she was ugly when she was the exact opposite.
Morgan Laroux | Post 9 |
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Well, it looked like she was screwed. Though Audrey lacked a great hand of her own, she failed to muster up a hand that amounted to anything of equivalent value. Though she didn’t care, she felt that her inadequacy was chalked up to the implement she put in her drink earlier. After all, she played her fair share of poker. Took her awhile to learn the different hands and get used to the rulesets, what with there being six-trillion different ones, but she liked to believe she knew when to bluff and when to fold. Tonight, she didn’t.
Anyway…
Bringing the glass to her lips after the woman poured her another, she drank it down until not a drop remained of it. Running her tongue over her lips to collect the residual wine, she noted that it tasted a lot better than the cheap tequila she consumed earlier. Jerusalem started to feel a bit on the loopy side though; probably something about ingesting weird pills with hard liquor over the span of the night.
”Congrats on that hand.”
Jerusalem Godfrey | Post 6 |
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Audrey ended up agreeing with the proposal. Provocative words followed, from both parties. The albino’s words carried interesting implications, and Morgan’s words weren’t far off. Before initiating combat, the redhead spoke about not having smashed a Godfrey before. Within her eyes was the faintest glimmer of reaction, a sliver of hostility formed in a countenance that generally seemed apathetic to everything. Running her tongue over her teeth, she looked up at the sky hanging countless miles above. She snorted in response, looking back down as she glanced at the ensuing action from her peripheral.
”Don’t get it twisted, honey. It’s going to be you and you alone getting smashed at the end of the day.”
Whether she listened or not, she did not care. Jerusalem rolled her shoulders in a shrug, apathetic to whether she enjoyed the prospect of being smashed. Instead, she decided to indulge spectating the gladiatorial bout unraveling before her eyes. Haymakers wreathed in flame, overhands and other power shots. Either she had a lot of endurance, or she was used to a more experienced body that would not punch itself out at the rate she went at.
Jerusalem’s lips curled into an amused smile.
Morgan Laroux Audrey Iron | Post 4 |
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Morgan wasn’t wrong. Life had value, and despite her thoughts about people in general, she wasn’t an idiot. There were people out there who weren’t bad, even if she couldn’t see that sometimes. A lot of good happened in their dreary world, and denying that would make anyone question her intelligence and wisdom. It was easier to see the bad when horrible things happened, but it was hard for her to muster her distaste for people when they were cradling her and stroking her hair. Had Morgan a better angle, the surprise on her features would have been evident.
Jerusalem always swung back and forth like a pendulum when it came to her disposition and outlook. Sometimes it seemed as though she was bitter and was nothing more than an addict who was done with caring about anything other than pleasure. There were also times when people convinced her that maybe doing some good here and there wasn’t bad—she didn’t know.
”…Okay, but if you blue ball me again, I’m going to start saying no. And I understand what you mean, sometimes it's hard to think like that, though,” she said in response, draping her arms back around her as though attempting to deny her even the chance at creating space between them once more.
”I like the idea of getting you used to it, honestly, that sounds fun~,” she cooed in response, craning her head to rest it on her shoulder. ”Really, who wouldn’t still want you?”
Morgan Laroux | Post 8 |
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Fire.
There was so much fire.
An eruption of flame leading to a pair of infernal wings, the perfect cherry on the top for the display earlier with the half-dome. While she incinerated the vines into nothingness through her own fire arts, it had been a long time since she witnessed an amount of sunset death in this volume.
Arousal struck her like a bolt of lightning while she watched the vegetation burn. It seemed to regenerate despite the intensity. Hypnotized as she watched the inferno weave and flicker, the clouds of smoke billowing, a wayward vine snapped her back to clarity as she ducked and blasted it away.
Then she allowed an eruption of fire to dominate her own form. Her own burst almost seemed molten as the fire proximity suit was reduced to a metallic, blackened goop on the ground from the sheer ferocity of her fire. Clothes underneath, though. Laboured breaths—not from exertion—left her as she made her way to the front of the dome, where the stream emerged. From her hand, she expelled a torrent of napalm into Ivory’s flames, causing it to double, or perhaps triple, in size.
The ensuing destruction was beautiful…
Ivory Volkov | Post 5 |
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Listening to the woman’s words, she tilted her head to the side. Using her reach, she extended her hand over the table and placed her palm against the albino’s cheek. Lithe fingers combed through her sidelocks while she stroked the side of her face with her thumb. First, she gave her permission through her nod. And without looking at the cards in the process of being dealt facedown, she leaned closer and whispered provocative, telling words into her ear. Indeed, the answer to her question was affirmative.
Pulling back, she leaned into her seat again. She made sure to show with her body language she had not looked at any of the cards, deliberately keeping it so her body was in the way when she leaned over the cards. Unless she had eyes in unseen places, it would be impossible for her to have gained an edge through the whispering.
”It’d be boring to cheat, so rest assured, I saw nothing. I think I made my plans clear, and I won’t hold you at fault—actually, I’m counting on it, Audrey. Let’s have some fun, hm?”
Audrey Iron | Post 5 |
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Upon getting out of the vehicle, she witnessed a spell oriented in iron Magic. All the iron particles in the vicinity pooled and congealed into one amorphous mass of metal. The construct stayed adjacent to her, serving as a protector should she come under fire. She liked the idea of that. A person to keep her from harm while she enjoyed the feeling of elation that ensued from setting things ablaze. Her lips curled into a small smile, bordering on the thin precipice of a smirk while she crossed her arms and forwarded her attention towards the warehouse.
”We should get on with this, then. The faster we can kill them all, the faster we can get to the aftermath, and the biscuits. Personally, I don’t see why we don’t just take it all for ourselves, but I can’t be bothered to think too much into the repercussions. I guess they’re dire,” she said with a small shrug, which was evidently her favoured gesture.
Maybe the soyboy had an army of goons they would send after them and ransack Southern Wolves’ headquarters, who knows. They would all die if they did that, though. Still sucked.
Audrey Iron | Post 5 |
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As the woman spoke to her, Jerusalem’s expression could be likened to a kaleidoscope with how difficult it was to read. It seemed transfixed into a permanent, expectant gaze with a subtle smirk ghosting her lips. She listened to how she spoke the right words, even leaned into it when she felt a hand on her cheek.
The inquiries about whether she wanted to indulge the female vessel, and the arousing danger her flammable secretions exuded. And the abrupt parting that occurred when she broke away and requested more information on her allegiance and the guild residing within the village.
A dry chuckle left her, as though she expected as much. Raising her hand, she started to nonchalantly snap her fingers as though there was an unseen beat in the background to listen to.
”That topic is a lot less interesting. I joined because I like the simplicity of the goals. No stuck-up people, just a group of people who want to get rid of scum and make money from it. I don’t know the history of it enough to gauge if they’ve done things like your philanthropy and charity with the spoils, but the targets of our wrath seem like yours. Lots of parties, drugs, and sex to go around, too, for those interested,” she exhaled. ”Besides, if I don’t work, I’ll probably go crazy from the lack of those three things. And or die. That too. Doesn't sound fun.”
Morgan Laroux | Post 7 |
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”Hold up. I never said anything about me being part of this. She’s the guild master, if she fails to defeat you, that doesn’t have anything to do with me. Bringing you into the guild is a boon for her, because she leads it. If I want your ass, I’ll do that regardless of allegiance. If you want me to stake anything on this, then I want incentive.”
A smaller shrug this time—it wasn’t on the level of Mr. West anymore. Of course, the lavender-haired woman had an idea in mind, if she wanted to really bring her into this, then she needed to give her what she desired. And what she desired was superficial, shallow, and sinful as the rest of her hobbies.
”If you want that stipulation, then stake yourself. If you lose, then you must take us up on that threesome—in the current state you’re in. Not gong to budge on that, it’s either that or you only get one helper if you win,” Jerusalem said in response. ”That's the fee for my participation, sexy. You want this, you have to work for it.”
Morgan Laroux Audrey Iron | Post 3 |
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Jerusalem had to be honest here. Trees, or whatever mass of embodied veganism stood before them, not reacting to external stimuli was not outside of her expectations. Simultaneously, it would have been within her realm of expectation if it turned into a vine monster and attempted to wrap them up. Since trees were not known for any of this, she sported no surprise when she looked at it deadpan and watched smoke slowly rise. She approached with her flamethrower in hand, and stared to aim the nozzle at the pile.
And then it happened. Vines started darting through the air in an attempt to lash out at the two of them—fuck, she thought too soon.
Rolling out of the way, she landed on her back and started spraying a torrential column of adhesive, horrifically hot chemicals wreathed in flames and smoke towards the tendrils attempting to snare her ankles.
”Not today, Satan!”
Ivory Volkov | Post 4 |
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At first, she blinked. She did not know the reason for her utterance ending until she heard out her subsequent explanation. Before her was a person who knew the Godfrey line, and it made Jerusalem remember she was even part of it. The famed family that went back centuries, known for their duty protecting the world in times of need. Even after the Calamity, they aspired to figure out the cause and help rebuild. Not concerned with affairs of war or picking sides in internal conflicts, their only interests were the world at large.
The redhead became formal after that, apologetic for her proclaimed insolence. She was in the process of shaking her head to diminish such thoughts, as she had not offended her, but before that her hand was seized. Jerusalem made sure to rid it of any residual concoctions before she did, making it a lot more pleasant.
An impish glint surfaced in her blue eyes, bypassing the mask of apathy.
Looping her arms around her, she pulled herself close to her face. Enough that, should they have leaned even an inch closer, it would have brought their lips into a head on collision.
”They tell tales about your ironic good deeds, and your legendary power. But they also included some stuff at the end about a fighting a mage capable of potent curses—and I guess that’s what I’m witnessing right now,” she started with a purr. ”Doesn’t look like a curse at all to me. And burning him eternally? Mmm, you know all of the right words. And I didn't see any insolence, anyone would be in a bad mood after what they tried to pull.”
Morgan Laroux | Post 6 |
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When she watched the woman pull out a literal candy bar-styled block of iron and begin chomping down on it, she had a lukewarm reaction. Maybe there would have been some inkling of surprise had her parents not been slayers themselves. One ate poison, the other drank blood for sustenance without having status as a vampire. Therefore, when she saw her eat metal as though it were a blend of milk, sugar and cocoa, she just nodded and thought to herself, ‘ah, iron.’
There were a lot of people guarding the place, and more inside. Well, she hoped it wasn’t too many, she disliked the thought of dying when sex hung at the end of her trials. All she needed to do was pray and spray, but she supposed the woman needed to know a little about her fighting style before they pranced in and killed everyone before stealing their supply of illicit substances. Fuck it.
”Sure. Just don’t let me get hit. I’m not an iron dragon, god, or devil slayer. That means I’m not really the block stuff with my face type. I just spray and pray and hope for the best, so cover me if you can.”
Audrey Iron | Post 4 |
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