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So, she wanted poker. That was good. Call her cliché, but it was better than playing a game that was borderline completely random, such as Blackjack. Even though she enjoyed Blackjack when she had no stakes to play with. But that made it boring, too. She’d rather just get high and look at abstract art on the wall, maybe see how many shapes it takes and if it turns into a giant tentacle monster or not. Sometimes it did, sometimes it didn’t. It depended how much she ate during the day.
Watching her shuffle the cards, she leaned back in her sweat and drank more wine. Maybe she was putting herself at odds through continuously drinking when the stakes were taking shots of hard liquor upon losing a hand. Oh well. The faster she got drunk, the faster she could get to the fun part.
”So, just to get this out of the way—if anything happens after this all, do I have your consent while you’re still sober? I don’t want to wake up in the morning and deal with who knows what, after all. That would suck.”
Audrey Iron | Post 4 |
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”Aww,” she said in response, a tiny bit of disappointment showing on her routinely indifferent face when denied whatever it was the woman intended to do before reconsidering. She saw where she came from, but the substance on her hand was only what her sweat turned into when she channelled her Magic through it to that effect. Then again, that would require profound knowledge about her and the physiology she boasted beyond the glistening assets covered by her shirt—and that required hard investigation.
”Eh. They got what was coming to them, and I saved the village the burden of finding a place to toss them afterward,” she said, blowing a stream of warm air in the form of a small sigh. ”And maybe. I’m Jerusalem Godfrey. My parents have a large network of eyes and ears, it’s hard to get them to stop telling me useful shit even when I just want to just laze around, have sex, drink and do drugs. But uh—“ she paused for a moment.
”Aren’t you supposed to be a man? Even though you’re scoring with me way better this way.”
Morgan Laroux | Post 5 |
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”You love my sweaty tits,” Jerusalem stated in response. Was she wrong? She loved Morgan’s sweaty tits, too. That was about how far she could go into that series of thoughts before it coursed off into the unmentionable. She fixed her attention on the woman after digesting Audrey’s inclination towards raiding the redhead’s body before nightfall. It sounded like a plan. She had plenty of booze, drugs, and other things that could be used to amplify the experience. Better than standing out there in the heat. Might as well get warm through other means.
”Her name’s Audrey. I hope you heard all of what she just said. I’m too lazy to repeat it. My paraphrasing probably paints a bad picture,” she said, emoting with her second Kanye West shrug of the day. The first came in response to Audrey telling her she should have led with the most important detail. It wasn’t the most important detail to her.
”She’s the guild master of Southern Wolves, based in this village. I’m a member of the guild. We’re thinking about asking you to join. And we’re also thinking about a threesome. Thoughts?”
Morgan Laroux Audrey Iron | Post 2 |
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Jerusalem clicked her tongue twice in response to her positive reception of her wit, and gave a thumbs up with her freehand. A nod of approval followed when she talked about how steamy it was going to get. Then she walked off in a way the woman never thought possible. Another nod of acceptance followed before she moved to follow behind her, placing both hands on the military-grade equipment nobody knew how she got her hands on.
Firing some flames into the air, she proceeded towards the mass of angry vegetation they were destined to purge with flame. It was a good day today.
Ivory Volkov | Post 3 |
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It was unclear whether she played it up when she took off the suit. When she was done, she even whipped her hair back and forth and let beads of sweat fly off her curvaceous body. A spotlight might as well have appeared around Jerusalem at this point, pink, blue and wispy white lights and sparkles would have been a very appropriate addition while she stood in front of two piles of ash that remained of the two criminal scum who dared jeopardize the lives of those within Dacite Village.
Yeah, she was still a Godfrey alright. Just crazy, maybe. Well, not that she cared to the extent of her family; it was almost like some sort of random itch, or trigger, or tic, Hell if she knew. She forgot she even had the thought, as though she had become a goldfish.
Watching her comrade who transcended the territory of just hot subject the man to an armbar without the need to let go after the tap-out, she made her way over to the unfortunate man. Seeing as he was in a bit of a pickle, she decided to place her sweaty hand on his face. Secreting a certain chemical from her palm, he may come to the quick realization that this differed from the sweat they saw on her body before—
This viscous, yellow goop was not her sweat. It was napalm.
And then she set his head on fire.
”I lent a hand.”
Morgan Laroux | Post 4 |
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Unfortunately, the children refrained from running away at the sight of her. She wondered if someone would be so kind as to shoo them away—for their safety and her own sanity. Or what’s left of it. The mayor was stoked about her showing up in the most obvious apparel for the job possible, even though she did not require such protective layers when it came to her own Magic or fire in general. She just found humour in it, and maybe the possibility of not burning her clothes off.
The albino was acting odd, but who was she to talk? Unless she started dropkicking her out of nowhere, she could not find the energy to care about whatever demeanour she happened to have. All she wanted was lighting things on fire and her money at the end of it all.
”It’s going to be lit.”
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Honestly, her apathy was strong enough to not care if nobody laughed. Care would not rise even if they cried from how bad that play of words was. It almost sounded like she was dead serious with that delivery, anyway. Maybe it wasn’t a joke at all.
Ivory Volkov | Post 2 |
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The conversation started to affect her in different unmentionable ways. Instead of caring about the mission at hand, the only things she cared about were getting her hands on the drugs and then getting her hands on the beautiful albino driving the truck. Though she wanted drugs, she decided to settle for a weaker, gateway one. Producing a waning carton of cigarettes from her pocket, she wedged one between her lips. Using her thumb, she created a flame at the end of it and lit the tobacco stick with precision. Back when she was younger, she might have caught the entire vehicle on fire with this skill.
”Will do, Audrey.”
Whatever Audrey’s preference was, she went with that. It was likely that she went to metal first, and that earned a nod of approval from her. When it came to musical preferences, like most things, she did not care. It might have been that she enjoyed a little bit of everything, anyway.
Jerusalem paid a little attention to the warehouse ahead. She supposed that was where the bloodbath would be happening. The location did not matter; point her at things, and she lights them on fire. Fin.
Audrey Iron | Post 3 |
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The moment the redhead looked in her direction, she may have discovered another unorthodox scene. Jerusalem had to make sure the two raiders were dead, and she did that through the power of overkill. Holding the trigger down until her knuckle turned white behind the thick material she donned, she unloaded a continuous wave of adhesive flame onto the unfortunate raider members harassing the townsfolk. Thick, black plumes of clouds rose above the bonfire she turned their bodies into. At first, they might have been larger, brawny men—now they were naught but charred bones.
And even that was starting to give away to soot.
She shuddered and clutched the weapon hard enough to bend it under the pressure. Clenching her teeth, a layer of perspiration clung to her forehead as she released rapid, laboured breaths.
”I’m getting way too hot,” she said, and duly dropped the instrument of destruction. Following that, she started to disrobe from the thick, unified garment until she was in nothing but sweaty casual wear. It felt a lot better, otherwise she felt she might burn up from factors other than the fire itself underneath the suit.
Morgan Laroux | Post 3 |
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Database claims
Sept 27, 2019 11:48:19 GMT
<tr>
<td><a href='http://fairytaildream.boards.net/thread/470/'>Jerusalem Godfrey</a></td>
<td>Napalm</td>
<td>Southern Wolves</td>
<td>Solace</td>
<td>Senjougahara Hitagi</td>
<td>Monogatari</td>
</tr>
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”Okay. I’m going to tell you something really important, so I need you to listen, and listen well…”
Donning a normal attire this time, her amethyst-threaded mane and vivid blue eyes were on full display. A casual attire comprised her outfit; a garb suited to the summer or warmer days in autumn. Blouse, jean shorts, sandals—nothing too mind-blowing in that regard. About ten metres away, probably within hearing distance of the redhead who attempted to get over the malady imposed on her by who knows what, she spoke and pointed in her direction.
”So, that person over there probably fits right in here. I don’t know what she calls herself, some king or scarlet something, I was too high to remember—and am still high now—but she shoots fire like me and she’s really hot. Her tits and ass value are off the charts. I think it would be a great person to try and haul into Southern Wolves. I mean frankly I don’t give a shit, but I’m just saying.”
And then she shrugged. Oh, wait, she supposed there was another detail to tell Audrey. ”Oh and she helped me kill raiders attacking the village.”
Morgan Laroux Audrey Iron |
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”Have to be honest with you here. I was talking about a drinking game, but we can merge them together. Maybe we can stake taking shots if we get some harder shit to drink?”
The woman’s eyes turned towards the cards and the coin placed on the table, and then she took another swig of wine. After drinking spiked tequila, it seemed she had an inherent, strong tolerance to alcohol and drugs. She thought this was annoying, because it made getting intoxicated more expensive than it needed to be. Then again, she was used to almost everything turning out poorly.
After she spoke, she continued. ”Could be poker. Every time you lose a hand, you must take a drink. Sounds kind of interesting, hm? Otherwise, as much as I like strip poker, I have this sneaking suspicion this club is somehow PG-5 in rating. Not that I care, but for some reason I just feel so barred off.”
Well, whatever. Maybe that could be done some other time behind closed doors. She was certain she would be getting through them sometime this evening; that is, if she played these cards right.
Or maybe by just asking at this point.
Audrey Iron |
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Well, the obvious was not a thing she liked to point out often. However, she did ascertain that Nickey and Mikey were fucked. It did not take long for them to become a charred mass of smouldering flesh still wreathed with flames. It was so hypnotizing to watch, too. How the flames swayed back and forth, how the clothing burned away and the flesh reminded her of the far-end of a cigarette burning up. Absolutely exhilarating. A sigh left her as she admired her work, and then she remembered the attractive redhead she saved from the unmentionable.
”Because it’s funny?”
Yeah. That was the only reason she could think of. Indeed, her inherent resistance to flame never failed her when it came to her own Magic. Jerusalem felt as though she would be doing the world a disservice if she failed to show up high and wearing something ridiculous, though. More like herself, because she found it hilarious. For about five seconds.
”Okey. Got it sexy,” she said in response, an ocean of apathy washing over the entire continent. There were two more people she needed to take care of with what appeared to be another fire user, which excited her. A lot. There was going to be a lot of fire everywhere burning things, and she got to watch it all. Why were good things happening to her now? It kind of boded terribly for the future.
Producing flame under her feet, she avoided two hulking men trying to flank her from both sides by using fire as though it were a propellant. Turning to face them, she squeezed the trigger and unleashed another torrent of adhesive, fiery death at the people not wearing clothes at-all suited for contact with it.
Morgan Laroux | Post 2 |
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Vroom, vroom. The truck sped off. Jerusalem leaned against the window and turned her attention towards the scenery. Trucks were a lot cooler than cars because not only did they provide a higher view, but they just seemed more badass in general to her. Additionally, you could pack more drugs in the back or hit someone with it with fatal repercussions should they be an enemy. What wasn’t there to love?
Then he listened to her speak. Listened to her talk about the car rising in temperature because of how hot she was, figuratively and literally, and then she revealed a dark secret. It was interesting in a way, enough to cause a little bit of surprise to surface in those cerulean pools of hers. Looking at her, a small smirk of her own ghosted her lips.
”Two peas in a pod. I love watching things burn. Anything. That includes shit like what we’re about to go against. It turns me on,” she started in response. ”So no, I don’t care. Even if I lacked pyromania, I would have taken it as a boon. I can take care of that personally for you afterward, if you’d like.”
Audrey Iron | Post 2 |
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It was almost comedic in a way. If you had a dark sense of humour. At least Jerusalem appreciated the sequence of events that followed the ill-fated intrusion.
The redhead would notice a woman behind the two raiders whom harboured bad intentions. She hoped she refrained from ruining the surprise, because it made it a lot more entertaining if she stayed quiet, maybe kept them distracted a little bit longer for the individual approaching them from behind.
And such a person seemed to be donning an actual fire proximity suit, a mask, and a military-grade flamethrower.
If one were to scrutinized her head, they might be able to make out a feminine face with purple locks and bright blue eyes. Should their attention be drawn to her curves and her own balloons, she was easily identifiable as a woman. With a flamethrower.
Filling the tank up with her Magic, synthesizing napalm within, she pointed the nozzle and squeezed a veritable river of flaming, smoking, three thousand degrees Celsius sticky death towards the backs of the two men. They would find out just how brutal a weapon napalm was in the form of being turned into crispy chicken while she watched with an elated expression.
Pupils big as saucers, too.
"I love the smell of napalm in the morning..."
Alright, just needed to say it at least once.
Morgan Laroux | Post 1 |
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”Jerusalem,” she replied, raising her glass to her lips and taking another swig of hard, spiked liquor. It tasted like complete garbage to her, but she did not mind because of how jaded she was to the taste of alcohol, drugs, and other. It burned, but she enjoyed that sensation, and already she felt what little inhibitions she had dissolving like the pill she dropped into her own drink in the first place.
The other woman offered a handshake—to which she accepted. Feeling soft hands, the irony was lost on her for the time being. Until she turned her fingers into iron, then the irony hit her like a bat. Not that it was funny enough to make a joke about. Well, it seemed that she was a mage; not that Jerusalem cared about that detail. Now the fancy mage was fixing wine for them—she could dig that.
When it came to her present thoughts, she wondered what she should say that would get her in the albino named Audrey’s pants the quickest. However, it seemed like the iron user was doing that for her. She didn’t even have to effort.
”Probably not, who knows? Good thing you’re hot and we want the same thing,” she started in response. After emptying the contents of her own glass down her gullet, if permitted she took the wine and refilled. ”So, you and I both are one step ahead in the game. Maybe we should play one. Those are always neat.”
Audrey Iron | Post 2 |
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