How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

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Dominique
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Re: How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

Post by Dominique »

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
[Verne]: Verne put down one of the last boxes and smiled. The pair had managed to get through a lot in the short few hours that Dominique had been awake for the night. The tall Paladin looked at his wrist watch and read the time the small hands told; it had just gone nine and though they were still faced with the huge task of unpacking the boxes they had shifted into the top floor of their new dwelling, Verne was satisfied with what they had accomplished.

A large bed lay stuffed up against the top left side of the room with the sheets, pillows and covers piled up in the centre while a maze of boxes weaved a path back and forth through the room. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect for the two of them to invest in a place they could live in together, with Dominique joining The Order again and Verne’s little brother all but taking over his one bedroom trailer; this would give them a lot more room.

Verne stood up right and hiked up his Adidas track pants a bit before burying his hands in the pocket of his plain grey hoody. The hood was down, his wayward blonde hair touching the raise collar; pressed down by the black beanie he wore. His blue gaze went to Dominique before he crossed the room to put his hands on her hips from where he stood behind her, slowly snaking them across the woman’s stomach to stitch his digits together and pull her in to his embrace. “I think that was the last box from the car.”

[Dominique]: There was something about standing there and feeling him move closer to her. A grin spread across her face and she couldn't stop it if she tried. The warmth of his body forming behind hers inspired HOPE to reach back and thread to lock at the back of his neck. "Good. It is a lot of work." She turned and faced him and grinned a little more, her features likely glowing if they could. "But can I tell you again it’s good to be home with you?"

The place was huge and what they managed to move from her cramped apartment seemed all but swallowed up by the massive multi-level space. It was a world all its own and exactly what they looked for. The investment they both made secured it and gave an earthly promise no matter what the world threw their way they had a place that was a refuge from it all. With the acceptance back into The Order she was feeling far better than she ever had. Her mind was focused, her routine settling and that is more than she could have ever hoped for. She felt the stretch of her zip up long sleeved shirt and the weight of his fingers finding her denim clad hips. Her bare feet brought her in a little closer to him and now she couldn't see it being a more perfect evening.

[Verne]: His arms tighten around the woman’s figure gently until he could feel the cold of her body through their clothes; it didn’t bother him now like it had in the beginning. Home, the word didn’t seem strange coming from her lips but whenever he thought about it, it took him a little while to process what was now truth; they had a home together and though it felt cereal right now, Verne knew it would be the most wonderful feeling once it all sunk in.

The pad of his left forefinger found the hard path drawn up the front of the woman’s shirt by the zip and he followed it playfully with his finger; a fly nearing the spider’s web. Finger and thumb closed over the small metal tongue and slowly edged it down only to then pull it back up again. “I think this place is perfect,” he told her, but then, he had said that they first time they’d laid eyes on it.

[Dominique]: She watched the slow pull of his finger then the slide of the zipper that was pinched between them back up. "Make up your mind." Playfully she winked as it seemed that he in fact did. "You hungry?" Her fingers caressed the length of his jaw slowly then moved so she had the space to lean and kiss his lips. She could bathe in the warmth of his flesh pressed to her own and never miss the winter that surrounded them. For now he was likely hungry and she was going to go through the motions of what would be an otherwise familiar routine. "Shall I see what they delivered for the kitchen? I had it stocked with what a hungry man would want. Hope they succeeded. If not I will run to the store later if needed."

[Verne]: “Mm,” he hummed against the lips pressed to his own, “I could do with something,” he spoke as he pulled back from the quick kiss. “Don’t worry about making it though, I have two hands.”

Verne released the woman and went to the kitchen. He stood in the middle of the floor and let his gaze go over all of the cupboards. Indecision gripped him; which to open first. The fridge was always a good start and Verne was one of those guys who opened the fridge door whenever he was in the kitchen, even if he wasn’t hungry it was done out of habit. The fridge droned as he pulled the door open and looked down at its contents. Fruit, drinks, yogurt, vegetables, everything you expected to find in a normal fridge and nothing you did in that belonging to a Vampire. “Maybe I’ll just make

[Dominique]: Walking through the space to the kitchen and reaching down randomly she picked up the empty cardboard box. A hiss of packing tape said it was being folding down and was like a Frisbee with the toss she gave it to pile it with the growing pile several feet away. A few steps more and she gathered up a sheet of bubble wrap and couldn't resist the urge to press her fingers together to make the small plastic bubbles pop. "Sounds good enough to eat." She agreed without giving it much thought.

She tossed the sheet of bubble wrap in the wastebasket and leaned back against the kitchen island and watched him begin the simple prep of the sandwich. That was when she decided to give it the attempt. If it came back to haunt her as painfully as the Monster drink did then she didn't have a huge audience to witness it. It was Verne. He had pretty much seen all her victories and losses in the last year so she could survive the humiliation if it came back and bit her in the ***. "Mind making me one?" She was glad his back was turned because she was sure his expression was enough to make her laugh even if it was her that would potentially suffer from the result of her suggestion.

[Verne]: Verne hadn’t given the whole food thing much thought, especially when it came to Dominique, but her asking now made him think back for only a week or so ago when he had been standing in her apartment and all she had to offer him was and old untouched salad she had been feeding to Rufus, her pet turtle.

He got the bread out from where it was kept and then collect some margarine and cheese from the fridge. The sandwich, once made, seemed a little empty, so instead of leaving it as it was Verne went back to the fridge and got a leaf of lettuce to add to his own; on top of this went a couple of chicken flavoured potato chips and he was happy.

After a spot of cleaning up he walked the plate over to where Dominique sat and took a seat beside her, offering up the plate with her rather plain, cheese sandwich on it. He tucked into his own quickly, the crispy ships and fresh lettuce making a satisfying crunch sound when he sunk his teeth into the odd creation for a bite.

[Dominique]: She perched herself up on one of the high stools and waited for him to make his way there. The creation he seemed rather fond of had her eyes surveying it as if it was going to be something she could handle or not. She opted for the plain that he seemed to be kind enough to spare the extras. It was no secret between them. This may or may not end badly so she was glad he was there for the support. The man liked to eat. Was it wrong that she couldn't help but want to share in such a common and practiced pleasure as consuming a meal together? It was only a grilled cheese. Her fingers settled down around the toasted bread and the heat shot up her fingers like it was riding through her veins. She never appreciated the luxury of warmth until she was left to savour the limited amounts of it she came across. She released her shoulders back slightly like she was getting set for an all you can eat competition.

It shouldn't be such a big deal. She ate sandwiches all the time. Slowly her fingers brought the bread and cheese to her parting lips. A slow shift of her dark eyes towards Verne found him already inhaling what he held. Open mouth. Check. Insert. Check. Bite down. Check. Chew! She went through the motions and allowed the warm soft cheese spiral slowly through her mouth. After a few tumbles of the bite in her closed mouth she finally swallowed it down. She licked her lips thinking perhaps she was missing something. "How does yours taste?" She opened the two slices of bread and looked between and the cheese. Subtly she leaned in to see if she could notice a reason for the lack

[Verne]: Words that sounded like ‘it’s good,’ came out of his mouth but one could never be sure if they were right to hear them. Of course he was watching Dominique from the corner of his eye; he wanted to know if what she had just eaten was going to stay down or not. He didn’t make this obvious, however, dinner and a show in this form wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that would make him want to eat the second half of his sandwich, one that had gone untoasted unlike Dominique’s.

Nothing. He noticed her stop to peek inside the sandwich like she had just realised she had bitten off the leg of a bug. “Is it okay?” He asked, concerned.

No one had ever complained about food he had prepared before, but then again, he rarely prepared anything, so maybe this one was ‘one in five’ factor swinging into action. Verne had managed to demolish his late dinner, which had actually been a combination of a few skipped meals, and got up to take his plate back to the kitchen.

[Dominique]: She was in the process of finishing up the sandwich she had obviously investigated a little too closely when he noticed. "It's great." A big grin came to her lips as the last bites went rolling down her throat. Now that she seemed safe from the unimaginable pain of food rejection coming over her she hopped up from the stool in a victorious bounce to her bare feet. "Can't wait to see what else will stay down. Cheese sandwiches are a win." She stepped around the kitchen island and placed her plate on top of the one he released. "It was a little bland but could be just one of those things. It is not like I have eaten a lot recently." That was an understatement but honest enough to say.

[Verne]: He smiled, that hadn’t gone too badly. “Why don’t we find out what else will stay down?” Verne ask, scooping up an apple from the fruit bowl on the island; he bounced it off his forearm before catching it in the opposite hand and brought it to his mouth to take a bite before offering it up to Dominique.

The apple was crisp and delicious; there was no way she could call that bland, even a homeless guy with no teeth could enjoy an apple that tasted that good. Once the apple was in Dom’s hand Verne went to the fridge and found a bottle of chocolate sauce. He took out a beer while he was at it and set them both down on the island.

[Dominique]: She felt the weight of the apple in the palm of her hand as she brought it to her lips. A slow crunch of her teeth going into it and breaking off a juicy portion into her mouth was complete. She chewed slowly again waiting for the explosion of tart and sweet to hit her but it was a rather bland experience yet again. This was not exactly her expectation but the fact it all stayed down was a highlight. "It's yours." She finished chewing while handing him the apple. Her reached out for and grabbed the beer. Something had to wash it down. Opening it stood there and watched him. Her lips took to the bottle and took a swallow. There was something to be said for the tingle of the cool liquid dancing over the surface of her tongue. There seemed to be hope after all.

[Verne]: He took back the apple and started tucking into it while he watched; there was no point in wasting good food after all. The beer seemed to go down better than the rest of the food had but the look on Dominique’s face told Verne something wasn’t quite right; still, there was no reason to push these things, it was a blessing she could eat at all. The tall male took a final big bite of the apple before throwing the core in the bin. He picked up the bottle of chocolate sauce and shot some into his mouth. “I guess we’ll call that pudding,” Verne smile, the dark evidence smudged across his lower lip without his notice.

[Dominique]: She set the beer down allowing her finger to slide down the glass base and finally pull away. He was a tease. It was apparent before but even more so now. She smirked at the proof that clung to his bottom lip as she stepped in closer. Her body met the front of his and her eyes all but pinned his own with the amused sparkle that surfaced. Her finger delicately pulled its tip across the warm flesh and then retreated between her own lips. Once again they parted and the tip of her tongue curled to erase any traces she perhaps left behind in her own sampling. "Pudding is thicker. I would imagine that is sauce of a far sweeter kind."

[Verne]: She had that look in her eye, one that almost made him step back when she neared him; a look that said ‘I’m hungry and you look delicious’. As the woman’s finger went over the man’s lower lip he realised all too quickly that he had mistaken that sparkle in Dom’s eyes, her actions far more innocent than her gaze suggested. A goofy smile found Verne’s lips as Dominique spoke; his hands went around her middle. “Made all the more sweet by your lips,” he teased her before pressing his lips to her own, a lot more gently than the first time he had made the action.

[Dominique]: Her hands found his face and cradled his jaw with the hold of a woman who was captured by the man in her hands. Her lips parted gently at the meeting of his and the swell of his bottom lip was trapped by the tender pin of her own. She sucked gently then released it carefully. "There is more where that came from." She slid her hand down the back of his arm and curled the length of her fingers to weave between his. Stepping backwards she smiled. "Care to finish unpacking or sample what likely isn't found in the fridge?" She wasn't terribly concerned what he chose first. The latter would certainly come as well.
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Verne
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Re: How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

Post by Verne »

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

[Verne] Verne had been on the second floor all day sorting out his tattooing studio, folding down empty boxes and setting his equipment up; so consumed by his work that he had forgotten to stop for lunch or dinner. For the last hour and a half, however, his focus had shifted to the sketch lightly tooled across his left forearm depicting a Saint James cross and rosary with a smaller cross hanging from the beads that entwined the first. He had never tattooed himself before, but seen as he was right handed and had found the perfect spot on his left arm for a tattoo he had been working on the design of for the last six months, it seemed like the best opportunity to try it.

The gun hummed as the needle danced across his skin with incredible accuracy. He wasn’t working with gloves which left his hands a lot drier, free of the sweat that tended to build up after time when his hands were confined and covered. The sun has dipped low enough for him to have to get up and turn the light on, which he knew meant Dominique would be waking up soon and probably seek him out. He had left a little surprise in the form of a folded t-shirt at the end of the bed for her. The tall male smiled as he thought about her finding it, not knowing what she would make of it, if she would find it endearing or insensitive; and really it could have been taken either way.

Verne turned his black cap backwards to keep the hair from his eyes and as he exchanged the needle for a smaller one to work on the finer detail of the proposed picture, he brushed his arm against the side of his black singlet, sweeping the blood away. He wore a pair of basketball shorts that stopped just below the knee when he was standing and above when he sat, the sides buttoned up, colours representing his favourite team the L.A. Lakers; purple and yellow, perhaps not the most flattering of shades on him.

[Dominique] Dominique felt the pull of the night at her feet. Each muscle beneath the inked surface of her skin woke on its own accord. One nudged the other next to it and soon the woman was rising to sit up in the sinfully comfortable oversized bed. There was no other like it and she was insanely possessive of it. Her full but sleepy lips smiles as she turned over and rolled lazily out of it to land on her bare feet. HOPE curled up into a petite but strong fist and went towards the ceiling for a stretch. LESS followed in similar fashion until she purred at the delicious tickle up her spine.

Quickly she bent down and wrapped the curled fingertips around the back of each ankle and allowed the rest of her body to stretch as well. That accomplished she decided that there no time like the present to see what she had missed while she slept the day away. A slide of her fingers brought the dark strands of her hair behind her ear as she moved to the dresser. Just as she was about to make a choice of which drawer to pull open the colour pink caught her eye on the corner of the bed. She cocked her head and reached for it finding a sleeveless pink t-shirt unfold. One brow arched and she took in the sight of none other than Verne looking rather sexy as always for his fine self a pair of handcuffs and Laters Baby beneath.

Half a smile formed at her lips and she pulled it over her otherwise bare skin. A drawer opened and she slid into some shorts and made her way to the one place she figured the man would be creating more art than the masterpiece on her pink covered chest. Finding his purple and yellow clad body at work she slipped up quietly behind and leaned in and kissed the back of his neck. "Hard at work?" She asked as she came around to face him and straddle to sit on a stool opposite where he was. Her dark eyes watched him and the current work coming to colour beneath the tool in his hand.

[Verne] He was wearing socks and when he heard Dominique take the elevator to the floor he stood on he wasted no time in whipping the off, knowing how much she hated them. Thought a wooden floor wasn’t the best on cold feet, the heater had been burning away most of the afternoon, leaving the room a more than liveable temperature; in fact it was starting to feel a little sub-tropical. Verne kicked his socks under the ink stand before sitting back down on the stall he had been working from, his left arm propped against the table top so that he wouldn’t move it too much while he worked. A small part of him had wanted to finish the tattoo before Dominique had the chance to wake up, but like most things, his poor time management meant things often didn’t go to plan.

Stardeath and White Dwarfs played on the stereo quietly in the background; their song Smokin' Pot Makes Me Not Want To Kill Myself droning away as he got back to work. It wasn’t long before he was disturbed, however, and by the one and only person he cared to be interrupted by. Her lips on the back of his neck made the tops of his arms goose-bump, muscles tightening for those short few seconds that they were paralysed by the bliss that was her caress.

“Always,” was his response to the woman’s words as she moved to sit across from him, this partnered with a smile. He tore his gaze from the near completed work of art on his left arm and looked across the small work-bench to where Dominique resided. She was wearing the top he had snuck out during the early hours of the morning to pick up from the post-office, something he had gone to the trouble of ordering online from one of those sites where you uploaded a picture they could print onto almost anything and then post it to you within five working days.

Verne set down the gun and turned his arm back and forth so that Dom could see the work he had accomplished. “Would you like to finish it for me?” he teased, not considering that the woman’s answer might be yes. There wasn’t much left to do, the smaller of the two crosses with Jesus strapped to it sat penned upon his skin, awaiting the more permanent tracing of the faint blue lines already marked there.

[Dominique] She was still taking in the sight of his bare feet and grinning slowly as it registered. Something so simple said so much more than the casual removal of the socks that she quickly located under the ink stand. She leaned back so that the t-shirt was in full view. "I slipped it on. Do you think it fits well?" Her eyes were already back trying to pin on his as her legs stretched and her feet walked the rolling stool closer towards where he was seated. Her hands were already pulling on a set of purple latex free gloves as he asked her likely in a playful manner to finish his tattoo. The man would learn quickly not to ask if he didn't really want it to happen. A quick lift of her backside up off the seat to take possession of the ink gun from his hand. "I would be honoured." She used her free to reach for the arm that needed a finish of the tracing on the impressive design that was already showing his talent.

[Verne] As the woman leaned back and asked how she looked into the top Verne couldn’t help the smile that spread his lips, every tooth on display for her to see; the smile saying enough, his words only assuring that the quick reaction wasn’t false, “Stunning.”

There was as strange niggle in his loins that told him to sweep everything in his way to one side and attacked the woman feverishly with an assault of kisses and gropes she would fine hard to fight off, but the sensation and wayward thinking was subsided slowly as he caught site of those warm brown eyes pinning his arm. Dominique had snapped on a pair of highlighter, purple gloves. He knew they were the most common of colours worn by men in tattoo parlours, but Verne liked to break the ice with new customers by giving them something to laugh at.

A coy smile and a drumming of fingers against the table top signalled the slight belt of distress not otherwise visible on of the man’s features at Dominique’s taking up of the gun. He couldn’t back out now; whatever the woman managed to achieve would remain on his flesh for life. Something about that excited him in a way he couldn’t quite fathom. The male set his arm down against the surface of his work-bench and relaxed as much as he could while holding the foam filled stress-ball. “No hurry, go slow, just try and feel your way… relax your hand against my arm and don’t worry about hurting me,” he tried to encourage her but was probably coming across as some kind of domineering dickhead.

[Dominique] Her eyes blinked slowly as if the way his words rolled from his lips could be savoured for something far beyond simple instructions. Relax. Was he wishing her to or was he trying to talk himself into the possibility he perhaps may? Her face tilted down and her eyes remained upward to his. She offered a reassuring smile as the purple gloved hand slid upward to curl her fingers around his elbow, cupping it and bringing a little closer to her pausing when the surface of his fingers came into contact with the front of her new shirt.

She glanced down at the ball he squeezed then brought her hand back down to frame the outside of the design she was about to finish. The crucifix blazed through her focus and soon she let the gun move with her mind. She was more familiar than with the progression of the blue lines she precisely made than the back of her own hand. She lived all of her years with a rosary in hand of pocket. A few pauses with tissues in hand to blot the bright red drops that surfaced and she was once again back to making her eternal mark upon his warm beautiful skin.

[Verne] The reassuring smile said it all, that he was in good hands. Verne had quite a high pain tolerance, especially when he was inflicting pain upon himself in the form of tattooing, but whenever someone else was in control that suddenly changed things and one never knew what to expect. Every now and then he flinched slightly at the depth of the needle’s course and would smile at how flat he imagined the stress-ball crushed in his closed fist would be by the time they were finished.

The cool of her flesh could be felt through the thin divide of the sleeveless shirt against the tops of his fingers, and after a time, Verne found himself turning his burly digits against the vivid pink of the woman’s shirt slowly, savouring the feeling of being this close to her, close enough that he could fell the ice of her breath stirring the air between them. He watched from the corner of his eye, the gun at first, the precise control of her hand, slowly up her arm and to the woman’s face, her full attention paid to the task in front of her.

It seemed unfair that he should watch her like this, especially when she couldn’t look up and catch him in the act, but the chance to study her so slowly outweighed the risk of getting caught.

[Dominique] There was something so intimate about the willingness and trust of one to allow another to guide anything beneath their skin, to penetrate and delve deeper, to move under that fragile layer at the surface and to explore. Even more intense was to be granted the permission to leave a permanent mark that you were there first. Long after your presence was gone the proof you had been there at all would remain. A curious bond was formed and would link one to the other for as long as the skin remained. The tip moved in repetition and the tracing of the finely detailed piece continued to come to view as she gave the gun a break while the tissue in the other hand swept the fresh inked flesh free from the blood that rose to the air in sacrifice. She wondered where the design would go and the body that was attached. Would it always be flawless or would a scar compromise its perfection at some point.

The warmth of his flesh beneath her steady and relaxed hold reminded her anything was possible. Her cool fingers beneath the purple glove weren't supposed to be there but against all odds they were. Another brush of the tissue happened then froze as her eyes finally looked up to his face. How could she have every line and detail of it already memorized? A partial smile surfaced to her lips as she went on to the last line that would end her presence beneath his skin. She got why people did this now. It was her first time doing it and now she wondered how long before she could do it again. "How does it look so far?" She looked back up and leaned back. It would be disappointing if he didn’t like it because the gun in her hand still vibrating said he was stuck with it.

[Verne] How was it? It took a while for the question to register, his eyes and every sense still dedicated to watching her. Verne blinked out of his daze and stared down at the completed crucifix, perfected by Dominique’s unique style. He let go of the mashed up stress-ball and stretched his fingers out, weaving them up and down in a slow rolling wave before closing them again. “Brilliant,” the blue-eyed Paladin smiled. He would add a bit of shading later to satisfy his need to perfect the design he has mulled over for months.

Verne went to the wall and flicked the switch that fed power to the gun, the quick moving instrument groaning in the woman’s hand as it was suddenly starved of life and became motionless. “You’re pretty good at that, I might have to convince you to fix the one on my back.”

The man wasn’t sure if Dominique had ever laid eyes on the scar Ezequiel Valentin had left him with marring the reaper that had once claimed pride of place there. Through the tops of his sleeveless shirt she would probably see the cross burned there into the flesh, representing the sword of Saint James. Even now when he thought out it the memory of the intense pain he had experienced made him shiver; it was something he had pushed to the back of his mind, something he was reminded of every time he caught a glimpse of his back in the bathroom mirror. “Thank you,” Verne smiled at the girl he loved, “You did good.”

[Dominique] The mention of his back was like a lure to her hand. Her fingers tightened around the grip of the ink gun and of course she felt a flutter until she realized the one on his back was none other than the one no hand and ink should alter. Could it even be possible? The vibration in her palm ceased and its source of warmth already began cooling with the flick of Verne's finger at the wall switch. She set it down and pushed her body and the rolling stool beneath back. Her right hand slid to the wrist of her left and soon the middle finger hooked beneath the cuff of the glove and stretched while her wrist turned to afford the hand the freedom of the vibrant purple that had covered it.

Once the matching glove was removed from the other hand she stretched them together over her middle finger and shot them into the nearby wastebasket. "If that was a test I pass." She stood up referring to the work on his back. "Something’s are not meant to be altered. The marks of a paladin are one of them." She felt a sigh move through her chest and she moved closer to where he was. "Anything else I would be happy to work on." She winked at him as she went to the small fridge she had put in that held bottles of water.

[Venre] Verne smiled softly in response to the wink and watched as Dom went to the fridge, not sure of what she was looking for. He folded his arms upwards, lacing his fingers together at the nape and stretched as he stood up. His forearm burned where the woman had just finished tattooing and would probably bleed for a while if he didn’t go about prepping it properly. He was always fussing and telling people they should look after their tattoos better, so when it came to his own the man was rather meticulous.

The tall Paladin applied some anti-bacterial ointment and went about wrapping the arm carefully until newly inked image was covered, something he would have to leave on for a few hours, maybe even the night before it would be safest to remove it. “You’re probably right,” he said after giving the woman’s words some thought; even if he didn’t like the scar that had ruined his back as well as the tattoo that once resided there, he shouldn’t try to disguise the mark that made him what he was. “Ezequiel scarred me for a reason more important than what I look like because of it.”

[Dominique] She walked over to him and suddenly felt the disappointment that while she retrieved the water for him he took the liberty to do the one last step she looked forward to. Her nose scrunched at the bridge a brief moment then she shook her head slowly in dismissal of whatever she momentarily felt. The fact she was allowed to set ink into him at all was a win. "Yes." She brought the cold plastic bottle of water to his hand and held it there until he accepted it. He was chosen. Verne was in all appearances worth more than a second glance. Hell even he knew it. She grinned at that. The man wasn't short on awareness at his strengths. But he was more than that and to her it went far deeper than his marks, his being chosen or the way booze clung to him hours longer than it would the average person when he finally got around to indulging.

She didn't think any ink or station could really do him justice. He was perfect in all his imperfection. Maybe it was that she loved him or that she was moved by his trust of her. Either way she had to feel pretty damn lucky because she just got to colour on him and if she pressed further she may get to do it again while he shared what he knew about the man behind the name that heard often but sadly never met.

"Perhaps when you feel like sharing it will be with me. I would really like to know about him beyond what we generally have been told."

[Verne] He took the offered bottle of water, oblivious to the swift scrunching of Dominique’s nose, much like he had been oblivious to her affections for the longest time. Verne unscrewed the cap from the bottle, bypassing the pop up nozzle and tore the seal from the top of the lidless bottle. As soon as the liquid hit his stomach he remembered that he hadn’t eaten since a very early breakfast at six that morning. His stomach growled its protest to his now obvious abandonment and Verne couldn’t help but laugh.

When he heard Dom refer to the man that had left his mark in the flesh, Verne nodded. “I have all the time in the world for you.”

The bottle of water went to his lips again before being set down and Verne stepped over to the couch he had shifted in for people who might need to wait to be served once his business was set up. He clapped his right hand against his thigh and summoned the woman with a wave. “I can tell you what I remember, Marisa probably knows more.”

"It is probably a crime but I will take every last second that is offered." She spoke her thought aloud before realizing it actually could be heard. Quickly she compensated with the distraction of her slower than usual progression towards that hand that beckoned her to his side. She arrived and with the gentle slide of her hip she was close enough to feel the warmth of him as she settled in. "I will see if I can catch her upstairs later then. Care to share?" Now that she was slightly shifted to face him with her full attention she wondered what he would have to say.

[Verne] Verne leaned back and looked thoughtful; it had been a year since he had had anything to do with Ezequiel, the man the bones in the cathedral belonged to. “I remember him telling me that he had lived for more than five hundred years… He seemed tired, their fight with Vampires had lasted a long time and Harper Rock seemed to be his undoing. I don’t think the Vampire’s that killed him would have been able to do so if he hadn’t let them…”

[Dominique] Her eyes had drifted briefly downward to the wrapping on his arm then popped back up to look at the face that said Ezequiel the fallen leader of the paladins had allowed his death to happen. She swallowed slow and hard like it was a bitter truth to digest. It was certainly a powerful statement. "Five hundred years." She repeated the length of time it was said he was to have existed. It seemed like a cruel sentence to only serve the purpose to fight. "I would like to think he fought and didn't allow anything to 'happen'."

[Verne] “Perhaps this is why I have never spoken about him to anyone before now… I need every one of those members to think and feel the same thing, after all, who wants to fight a losing battle?” There was method to his madness, or direction in his silence. He hadn’t been as truthful about their old leader as the other members might like to think. Ezequiel was a hard man, but a man all the same; one who had lost everything he cared about. “I don’t know… If I were to live that long I think a part of me would give up the good fight too.”

[Dominique] "Not if you have something worth fighting for." One of Dominique’s strengths was also her weakness. She didn't believe in giving up and she had lost more than she counted on because of it. Now she was in a position to make sure she didn't make the same mistake again. "I think you have a chance to make things happen. Whether you do that or not is entirely up to you." Her hand found his and gave a gentle squeeze. "Someone has to continue leading those who are joining with sense of hope and actions are everything."

[Verne] He closed his fingers over her smaller hand and smiled. “I plan to,” was all he said in response.

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Re: How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

Post by Dominique »

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Verne: The tall blonde put his passport down on the kitchen counter. It would expire in two weeks’ time and need renewing, something the man was glad for as it would become his excuse to stay home a lot more often than he did; as long as he could put it off. His legs felt stiff from the flight and all he wanted to do was crash for the next twelve hours but his energy and form was reanimated by the promise of holding her. It had been a month at least since he’d been home, since he has seen her; Dominique, the love of his life, the only person he couldn’t live without.

He was never alone inside for long, usually picked by the security cameras the second he walked in only to be met at the doors at the top of the elevator; but not tonight. “Dom?” his voice filled the bedroom as he peeked through the opened door and found the place empty. The tour of the house began, each floor inspect briefly until he arrived at ground level and noticed the stairs leading down to the garage; the door was open, a perfect invitation to sneak up on one unsuspecting busy-bee.

His keys went into the back pocket of his jeans, his leather jacket came off and was placed over the stair-handrail and his beanie was left at the door as his tangled mess of golden hair quickly combed by with his fingers. Verne crept into the garage and looked around. The place was tired in its own way, as well ordered as any busy garage could be. He spotted her almost instantly, as if there was some powerful magnetism guiding his glance. Her feet were hanging out from underneath his car as she lay back on the trolley and tinkered with a new part; a ‘new’ part she had probably ‘borrowed’ some something nice she had spotted on the side of the road.

Verne smiled to himself and crossed the room quietly, his footsteps disguised by the music that played over the speakers while Dominique was working. A set of burly fingers closed around the woman’s ankle as he pulled her out from underneath the car, a hot and greasy sight for sore eyes. The man didn’t even give her a chance to react before his lips were pressed firmly against hers, the tips of his fingers drawing a feathered trail across the back of her neck.

Dominique: Dominique was cranking away at the last part that should have come off far easier than it was currently progressing. the tool in her hand dropped and she set her hands on each side and pulled again while setting her heels into the grated garage floor beneath her. It wouldn't move and before she could remember whose car she was actually under she took the tool back in hand and gave the bottom of the jacked up car hell. "You piece of ****!" the words barely were a whisper when she dropped the tool finally remembering she had done enough to the car from day one of seeing it. If she had any hope of getting the restoration done on the classic Firebird she would be wise to not make things worse.

Verne. The man was always on her mind but suddenly he was weighing heavily. Her eyes darted from side to side. It wasn't that she was under his car. It had been so long so why now? She felt the curl of her lips lift just before the unexpected tug of her ankle pulling her out from hiding. Her grease covered hands shot up and took hold of the one worth dying all over again for. the taste of him filled her and it mattered little that the sound of the muffler and exhaust she was abusing before finally said it was giving up the battle of hanging on. Fingertips pressed to the blonde head above her and a brave right hand gripped his back and pulled him down tight over the top over. "Welcome back, baby." She growled sliding that appreciative hand further down and squeezing to make sure his body was all it was before he left. She let go satisfied it indeed was.


Verne: He wasn’t home until his lips met hers and in that moment he was where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. As Dominique pulled him close and let her hands explore once conquered land Verne was suddenly envious that he couldn’t do the same and smothered her welcome as she spoke it with another kiss. His body against hers was like sinking into a comfortable bed after a long day’s hard work. He let the woman’s body bear the brunt of his for a short moment of forgetfulness while he disappeared into his own thoughts for a moment before stepping back to reality. “I missed you,” were her first words, even if that wasn’t what had brought him home but now made him happy that he had returned. A pang of guilt slapped him low across the belly and he sat up back on his knees. " “I’m sorry I’m always gone for so long.”

Dominique: She corrected herself to sit up on the rolling board beneath her jean covered backside. Her dark eyes looked to his face then traveled downward with the expected lovers quick assesment of the body she knows more so than any other upon its long awaited return. His words in the air and his presence combined and inspired the woman to hop to her feet and wipe the back of her inked hand at the brief itch to her forehead. "I missed you too." Her lips spread into a grin as she nodded to what now was still on a lift behind her. "I missed you so much I started taking things apart." She stepped forward and took the material on his chest in her colorful but gentle grip. "Never apologize for leaving or being gone. Just promise to apologize for never coming back at all. I am a big girl. I do alright and keep busy while you are off doing whatever it is that Russian guys do while they are hopping the globe."

Verne: A fair assessment, Verne had an uncanny ability of taking things apart and never quite managing to put them back together. There was something instilled in every man from a young age that urged them to do such, he just never quite mastered the ‘fix’ it part of fixing things. As Dom moved to clutch at the white fabric of his t-shirt and instruct him as to one of the only things he should be sorry for, Verne smiled a small smile, something the bordered on a smirk but didn’t quite make it there. “One gets up to many things while abroad,” he teased, though most of his travel entailed setting up new branches of The Order, visiting and caring for family and friends, or just being a right pain in the ***.

Verne: “Things are running smoothly here and overseas now. I think I have one more trip to make this year before I can put my feet up and retire,” he laughed, would there ever be such for him? He often thought of passing the reins on to someone who had more time, but it was hard to hand over something he had fostered for so long.

Verne got to his feet and pulled Dominique into a hug, lifting her so that her feet escaped the ground before, some moments later, they were reunited. His hands closed over her cheeks and he looked into those dark, chocolate coloured eyes. “It’s good to be home.”

Dominique: "Now it is home." Her ink adorned fingers casually weaved through his hair and she leaned in drawing in the air between them she no longer needed. The scent of his travel weary skin filled her. Yes, she was glad he was back. Perhaps now she would be relieved of picking up the dog droppings that had increased significantly in size since he had been gone so long. The dog had yet to be named and a little discipline training was in order. all of that could wait though. She wanted to hear the details of his trip and just what or who he had managed to find his way into. "You know I won't let it go unless you tell me about the interesting stuff you blanketed with the general business is good summary." Her hands glided over his and the energy that was between them reminded her why she had no issue waiting or wondering if or when Verne would walk through their door again. That energy was always with them together or apart.

Verne: He shook his head slowly and smiled that cheeky little smile that make his eyes wrinkle at their eyes. “Okay, it wasn’t all business,” he admitted, “There were a few interesting nights out with old friends from high school. It’s funny… no matter how old we get, we still laugh at the same things.” He took them woman’s hand, knowing the animals were upstairs and would probably be excited to see him. “The rest, you may need to sit down for.” He said without looking at the woman, instead focused on his path from here to the elevator.

Dominique: She slid her petite palm into his much larger own and curled her fearless fingers to cradle the weight of his hand in hers. Dominique was wise despite the young years she had under her belt. She knew Verne as well as she knew herself. Free spirits had no reason to apologize for their solo flights of fancy or where the rested when the wind pulled them off course to rest. "I will sit because my *** has been under your car most of the night but I hardly think anything you will reveal will be the motivation for my taking a seat." Her legs took the double steps to equal the length of a single step of his own. Her oil tipped finger tapped the button and she stepped inside behind him.

Verne: When they got upstairs Verne released the woman’s hand and got himself a beer from the fridge before finding his way to his favourite seat. It would need a few sitting, or gaming hours before it felt the way it did when he left. The man popped the cap off his beer bottle and watched the cat like creature he had purchased for Dom sprint across the room and pounce the noisy little piece of metal which it would paw at for the next few minutes. Verne put his feet up and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Where to start?” He looked at Dom and pat his jean wrapped thigh, encouraging her to come sit.

Dominique: A part of her was in competition with the exotic large feline he adopted for her and gave her. Her eyes moved to that lap she had set a silent claim to and moved in a series of slow but relaxed steps. Arriving she slid her body into rest upon the very thigh he had patted and slipped her bare inked arm to curl loosely around the back of his neck. as if she had been doing it all the time he had truly been gone, she twirled strands of that mane of blonde around her index finger. "Just start?" She suggested with a leisurely shrug and sank deeper against his body.

Verne: He set his open hand against the woman’s back and it wasn’t long until the wayward limb started drawing slow lines up and down Dom’s spine. He realised then just how much he had missed her, the sight of her, the sweet smell of her hair, those eyes. He was surprised then by his own strength and restraint, while every part of him was begging to unwrap the present that was Dominique, he still managed to remain focused enough to recall his adventures and adequately explain them. “The Order is all set up now; I have a man and a woman team running a group of twenty individuals with another three prospects. Of course there haven’t been very many cases of Vampires outside of Harper Rock, but they tend to be cropping up more and more as the months pass.”

Verne: He looked thoughtful, though Dom usually seemed interested in most tings he had to say, he didn’t want to bore her with business. Guilt settled in his gut once more and he knew he should tell her he had experienced a few personal and moral slip ups during his time away. “My family is doing well, things have settled down there… My sister finally started her studies and there isn’t as much stress at home as there has been in the past. They all seem happier.” Avoidance, it was his specialty, but he had become so good at avoiding what others wanted to hear, that he even fooled himself sometimes.

Dominique:The tone in his voice danced and for the most part it was even but like a fire walker growing closer to the intense coals in the middle of his path Verne was stepping to the side and avoiding the heat of what he had left out. Her body wiggled slightly and shifted. He wanted to keep what she was by now rather aware of to himself and think she was oblivious then so be it. She would not be the one to ever deny him his pleasure or his own self induced misery. Her face leaned in to reach his ear and whispered. "Good." She withdrew slightly, her eyes upon his as her expression remained soft and accepting.


Verne: He caught that look, one that said ‘don’t fight it, I can read you like an open book and baby, you’re open twenty-four-seven in my eyes’. Verne leaned back in the chair with a relaxed look on his face. “You know me,” he said softly, his path directing him straight through the fire now. “I don’t know why I do half the things I do,” he admitted. “But you know how important you are to me… There will never be anyone else,” he promised and anyone who had heard him say those words would know he meant it too. Why could he hear the wall clock ticking? The sudden realisation annoyed him, it was that ‘let me distract you’ part of his brain trying to override common sense again. “I went out clubbing with a few friends a month or so back and got absolutely smashed,” he explained, knowing that would never be good enough reasoning, but one all the same. “I thought my friends had pushed me into a taxi at the end of the night but I woke up something completely foreign to me… next to someone else…” The last few words were slow; the hot coals were burning the flesh now.

“I made a quick escape… I didn’t know if anything had happened until…” Verne leaned forward to wiggle his phone out from his back pocket. He thumbed the screen until he had found his text message box and above a few flirty messages from the dark haired stranger he had woken up next to was a very angry text that ready –Thanks a lot **** face, I’m pregnant!!!- partnered with a very angry smiley. The phone was presented to Dom and dare she ready on would include “How stupid are you? Don’t you know what protection is? WHY WON’T YOU REPLY!!!??? Hello? And his personal favourite –Asshole!-

Dominique: Dominique stayed all comfy in her spot where she seemed to always fit as Verne went dancing through the fire as if this was a first time he had done such a thing. He had a history, he was Verne. the man returned to greet her drunk as all **** comatose in her bed as she was bartering with Luffy on just who was going to take the lead in a dance of their own. She extended her hand enough to accept the communication device offered to her. The average woman would be seething and clamping down her rear to an astounding display of disproving muscles attempting to cut off the circulation to his thigh beneath her. Or there was always that instant wading up of fingers linked to a recoiling hand that would shift gears and directions and plow through his teeth before he finished his next sentence. Dominique, though, really was in keeping with her word from day one when it came to Verne. She accepted him for all that he was and all that he was not. Hell, he rode a lame post or two when trying to make sense of what was a head or a tail. She shrugged as her thumb pulled down the last visible messages he seemed to want her to find worth her attention. She nodded slowly as she should and which of course should make him a little less comfortable handing such a thing to the woman sitting on his lap that could with the right set of teeth be capable of sucking the sin right out of him. BUt he had no real reason to worry because again back to the whole accepting him as is terms. Her brow popped up as the messages were scanned by her dark eyes. She held the cell phone when finished the looked slowly at him as her finger tapped at the side of the device rather firm and sharp. Her hips rolled slightly so that a more direct pressure was now applied with her weight to the center of his apparently astounding manhood and sank while her fingers went like wildfire sending a one word text to the sender. -Congrats- She handed it back to him. "She appears to be rather excited....Daddy." Her eyes were steeled to his and there was no blink as she looked at him.

Verne: Verne felt like a puppy that didn’t want to go out in the rain and had instead left his mark on the floor, under the woman’s gaze. She was a titan of a girl and knew exactly how powerful she was, but he had never been given reason to fear her and to this day still did not. That didn’t mean he didn’t respect her, because in his mind telling the truth was a sign of respect. You don’t hide your dirty misdeeds, you front up to them like a blood man or else.

As the phone was passed back to Verne he saw the recently sent message and his eyes went wide, not at her reply… that made him was to spit his beer and laugh his head off, but at the cost of that reply. “You know it’s like three dollars per message to text Russia?” It sounded a lot like he was saying ‘that ***** isn’t worth three dollars’, and partly he was, in a roundabout way. It wasn’t long however before he received a very nasty reply. -**** you! Congrats, what the **** does that mean?!?!!!- Verne was standing in a hole and Dominique had just handed him her favourite shovel. He was speechless, the temptation to laugh still fighting for the forefront. He looked at Dom a little bewildered and then smiled. “Don’t worry; I’ll sort it out…”

Dominique: "Mind if I watch while you do? I missed the best part, I know." She sighed and realized the man was going to be a father. There were things you usually said to learning such news...things when the the one delivering the news was not the man you had kept your sheets smelling like for the better part of a year. "Do I need to set up a nursery or perhaps contact someone who knows someone who is friends with someone else?" She looked his face up and down then leaned in and kissed his lips. "I am not going to give you hell, baby. You just did that in an epic way all on your own. I am here to support you."


Verne: They didn’t make people like Dominique anymore. Who was to thank, God, fate, it didn’t matter, the point was she was one of a kind and he was incredibly lucky to have her within his inner circle. Surely this girl didn’t want to keep this baby? The girls Verne usually tripped over in the nightclubs were the type of girls that never had children, or ended up settling for much older, much richer men. He wasn’t a smooth talker, he didn’t dress for success, and he didn’t really come across as suitable daddy material.

“She won’t keep it,” he said, determined that his words were factual and though everything about it went against his religion, surely one stupid mistake would sentence him to what he saw as a lifetime punishment. There were worse people to make the title of father obviously, but this girl, whoever she was, could still do miles better than she had. “Looks like I have a phone call to me.” Verne excused himself and slipped out from under Dom to pace the floor and stand in the kitchen.


Dominique: She sank deeper into the void of where Verne had been. Her legs were about to kick up when she finally realized she could take the time to clean up and leave him with privacy. He had enough to deal with without her hovering over him like an insecure and raving *****. Her steps were light as she slipped away from the room and headed for the shower. Turning the water on hot and ignoring the option at hand for cool she peeled off the material over her body and stepped in. While the soap did its work and the hot water did its own task she reflected back on the time that seemed to fly far too fast when it came to knowing Verne. She swallowed hard as her hands scraped the custom tile and finally latched on to and twisted the faucet off. She would watch things change and learn to keep rolling with it all as it did.
N I G H T L O R D S
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Dominique
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Re: How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

Post by Dominique »

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Dominique: Dominique had figured enough time had passed. Verne had been doing the long distance dance with his cell to Russia from what she could gather without being a nosy witch and asking who, what, where, when or why. Most would be flipping their **** and fitting him for a body bag or crying to momma on the phone about how he wronged her. Fact is he didn't. It was their understanding no doors, no walls, no needing to knock or apologize and absolutely no need to give an explanation. they were able to do anything they did before settling down under the same roof. Did it bother her that he was going to be having a kid with someone he stumbled into bed with? No.

It reminded her she was changed. She couldnt see bringing a child into the world they lived in and if she had not done such a great job of shoving her own experience deep to the back of her mind she would probably feel worse. Still she figured despite the awkward situation currently going on it was something they needed to talk about just like they did with anything. Honestly and freely. She stepped into the room and watched him. A smile was instant on her lips. "You busy? If not, care to talk?"

Verne: It felt like this situation should feel more stressful, that was the man’s first thought as he hung up the phone for the third time that day. He was always so relaxed about everything, which annoyed a lot of people. Trying to convince a woman to get rid of a child without using those exact words was proving difficult, but Verne wouldn’t settle for no; not concerning something this important. Whether the woman was happy about it or no Verne was in no position to play daddy, especially from another country. He had no financial support, no real property to his name other than a run-down old trailer, and his line of work put his life at risk every day; there wasn’t a second that went by that he wasn’t thankful for his ability to keep breathing. Still, this was a stress he didn’t need on this plate right now.

Verne was on his back, arms held out like a sun-bathing star-fish across the unraveled cloud-like covers. He was clutching his cell-phone on one and a piece of burnt toast in the other, it was missing a piece in the form of a Verne-sized-bite and had gone cold while he had been on the phone and had now lost its appeal. Was it possibly he had been in bed all day? It didn’t feel like it but the wall-clocked assured him that it was so.
Dressed only in a pair of grey sweat-pants the man was somewhat startled when he heard Dom’s voice at the door and sat up and turned his head to smile at her. “Never too busy for you,” he assured the woman, putting the toast and cell-phone down on the bedside table. He dusted the crumbs from his fingers onto the floor with a brush of his hands and sat back on the bed with his legs crossed, lost in those baggy, unflattering pants.

Dominique: "How are you doing with..." She stepped forward and found the bed too inviting not to crawl across and settle into sitting to mirror him. " Russia. Love or no love?" She smiled gently with the receptive warmth flowing through her as she looked at the one she would accept now matter what came out of his mouth. He was real, working through what came his way and she respected him for it. This was his deal, his choices to make. He needed the support not the lecture that she herself could have been given had he known as well. She reached out and brushed her fingers over the top of his cotton covered leg and gave it a light squeeze. "No matter what I am here for you. Need anything let me know and its done."

Verne: Verne tried hard to wipe the thing off his face. When she asked him about Russia, he assumed that was her nickname for his latest mistake and whether or not there was any love lost, well the answer was no. “I’m sorting it, baby,” He said as he closed his hand over that which gave the reassuring squeeze and gave a light tug, encouraging the woman closer so that he could hold her. “Russia is a stubborn birth, but she breeds just as stubborn men,” he teased, promising Dom he wasn’t going to give up without a fight on this one.

Dominique: She chuckled at his reference to himself and went with the pull to be in closer to his body. "Stubborn is good." Her fingers stroked his hair back and gripped lightly for a moment holding it behind his ear. A brief lean in and her lips found his cheek then his lips. She pulled back. "You aren't alone and if it should be then neither is she." She settled back next to him looking out over the end of their massive bed. She meant what she said. She learned a hell of a lot about appreciating how much one was capable of handling and accepting. If he could accept her as she was she was sure as hell going to be accepting of anything that came his way.

Verne: His eyes fell closed as Dom’s lips met his own, and in the moment he was trouble-free. Verne leaned back against the pile of pillows and followed the woman’s gaze to the end of the bed before looking at her and counting his lucky stars once more. He could count more reasons for loving her than there were strands of dark hair on that pretty head. If he could help it, by the end of the week there would be nothing for either of them to worry about; hell if it came to it he would even go as low as to bride mother Russia with a fat cheque, be it the last fifty-thou he had in his bank account. Where words no longer held their value, money spoke volumes. “We should do something together, just me and you.”

He was tempted to start firing off a list of activities to tempt Dom with, hiking, running, they all came across as great ideas when it came to Dominique, but for a man who struggled to run a half mile without coughing his lungs up, they suddenly lost of a bit of their allure. “You could show me what work you’ve down on the cars?” A great idea and it kept feet in slippers rather than running shoes for at least another few hours.

Dominique: She nodded as he finally spoke and was already sliding off the bed and standing up. Her fingers curled under the ribbing of her tank and pulled it off. It flew off to the floor and she backed up slowly with a playful grin as she wiggled her hips pushing down the yoga shorts that clung to them. Now she was in her lacy underthings and she bounced backward pedaling her feet in a jog. Why don't I show you the dock first. Last one there dries the other off. She was in a spiral and in the doors of the elevator before they shut. Hopefully she got to the dock first and in the water before he could make it down. She didn't mind in the least drying the man off. She did however hate losing. He knew that far better than anyone else.

Verne: Gobsmacked was one way of putting it, watching the girl undress was all his Christmas’ come at once. Of course she was out of the room before he could blink, she was a Vampire after all and had just shocked him into the ‘sit there with your eyes wide while you process that one’ look on his face. However, as Verne heard the elevator doors beep and close he was on his feet and racing to the power-box in the kitchen. He opened up the wall hatch and switched off the power to the elevator, then set the timer for it to come back on in three minutes. That was three minutes he had to race down the stairs and try to get to the dock before Dominique could figure out what to do.

Dominique: She was about to unfasten the clasp at her chest when the elevator stopped suddenly and left her kissing the the wall closest to her as she braced her hands against the surface. Her jaw dropped when she clicked the button to move the steel cage down. Her eyes narrowed and she could see him with that smart *** grin of satisfaction as he bolted down and out for the win jumping into the water. No surprise and fair enough. She left it wide open and now the ball was in his court. She looked at the doors that would not open while the elevator was still finishing its trip down. She tapped the buttons out of frustration then suddenly the elevator moved downward and finally the doors opened. She slid around the corner on the tiles on her bare feet bolting out the front doors and across the short amount of grass to the dock and jumped in. She would find him. So would the snap of her towel to dry him off.

Verne: Her left his pants in a messy little pile on the dock before plummeting into the water. It wasn’t as cold as the last time he had done so, but was still somewhat of a shock to the system. Verne didn’t mind the cold but much preferred the heat, both forgotten as Dominique crossed the garden in record time to join him. He was still wearing that smug little smile he was sure she would get revenge for. “Is that elevator playing up again?” Were his only words as his eyes met Dom’s.

Dominique: She was already rising up out of the water as she used her strength to grab for him and get a tight hold on the man that was a master at creative escapes. "It appears to need some work. I got it. No worries. Will have that fixed and worth buying a ticket for admission to arrive." And she would. Verne would find, when he least expected it, that he would wish he wore a velcro suit when the ride to the bottom ended. She splashed him then tried to sink him by pushing down on the tops of his shoulders.

Verne: The playful splash didn’t bother him and was almost returned before he found himself, head under water and out of breath. Verne’s arms went around the woman’s middle and he held on tight, expelling what little air he had managed to gasp before going under; allowing him to sink further down into the murky depths. It was till something slimy brushed his leg that he let go of Dom and pushed away from her. The man was afraid of two things in this world, rabbits, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, and anything that moved under water, especially in the sea. “****, nope, nope, nope,” he protested as he swam back to the edge of the dock and crossed his arms across a plank of wood on the edge to pull himself up and half way out of the water.

Dominique: Just as he was under and taking her with him. He was holding tight one minute and the next instead of Verne sliding against her she felt something long, large and slick graze her ankle then come up circling around her thigh. She kicked at it and surfaced gasping. "What the **** is in here!" Her arms were working like paddles and she was cutting through the water like Jaws was on her and the end was near. Her inked arm grabbed on to the dock and flipped her body with a splat of relief on the wood above the water. She shivered from head to toe still feeling that slick glide of scaly mass going across her bare skin. "We are setting traps in there..." She swallowed hard and brushed the wet hair from where it stuck on her face. "and getting fishing poles."

Verne: As Dominique surfaced and complained about whatever lived in these waters, Verne was already climbing out. If a kick-*** Vampire was scared of the slimy thing that touched him, there was no way in hell he was sticking around to find out exactly what it was. “Nope, nope,” he continued and made sure nothing was clinging to his legs before he stuffed them back into his pants; bugs, fish, snakes, or otherwise.
He laughed at how quickly Dom had managed to get out of the water and then looked back and the rippled surface as if he expected his worst nightmare to emerge. “Next time to ask for the race to the dock, I’m letting you win,” the man puffed. Thought it had been the most pleasant of experiences, the distracted had worked and he was no longer thinking about the problems he had left back in Russia.

Dominique: She twisted her long dark hair in her hands as she stood up and moved a few steps in favor of land and leaving the edge of the water. "You are a guy. How big do Canadian fish get?" She released the twisted up hair and then took another handful and twisted tighter not realizing it was due to the way not knowing what rubbed up against her. "You guys live for that whole hunting and fishing and chasing what doesn't want to be caught thing." She paused her words there then took in review what she said last. Her lips formed into an amused smile. "Well that last part women have down pretty good too." Dominique didn't chase. She waited for what she wanted because she knew it would come to her. When it did she had no issue setting claim to it when it did. In the case of open water on their property...not so much. Zombies were less disturbing at this point than what slid across her thighs without notice.

Verne: Hunting and fishing, that was his brother’s department, but in all truth he had given it a go once or twice and was somewhat surprised they had both come on alive half the time. “Well, if the local fish market is anything to go by,” Verne started, “I don’t want to know how big they can get.”
He shivered at the thought of whatever had touched his foot and got to his feet. Inside seemed a lot safer all of the sudden and he would much prefer to be under a car than whatever lived in the water bordering their property. The tall male made his way over to the hot mess that was Dominique and lent forward slightly as he closed his arms around the top of her legs and threw her up over his leg shoulder before giving her backside a whack with his free-hand. “Bad Dom, terrible suggestions, time out for you,” he scolded playfully, all the while making his way back to the house.

Dominique: She was up and over his shoulder with a swat. She giggled and nipped his back and gave his back end a return swat. "Just try and ground me, baby." She watched the surface of the water as he hauled her back to the indoors. Whatever it was in the water it was big. Another shiver raced up her spine again. It was gone as her cool wet fingers slid around the mans waist and her fingertips dragged across the muscles in motion as he walked. "I guess you win. I will put in JAWS and you can enjoy it while I dry you off." She giggled and started making the sounds that played when the massive shark was about to kill something.

Verne: Verne laughed, that sound was famous enough to strike fear into any man’s heart and the situation back there in the water partnered it well. “Only Jaws you have to be afraid of around here are mine,” he teased and snapped playfully as Dom was set down just inside the house.

He turned on the outdoor shower at the edge of the court yard and rinsed his hair and face before twisting the tap off again. With a play flick of his soggy locks he sent his golden hair back to sit slick against his skull and turned to see Dominique with a towel ready and rolled to perfection, only it wasn’t the kind of perfection one looked forward to in a neatly rolled towel. “Now just wait a minute,” he said, reaching blindly for a towel of his own, only to find that the one he had left done stairs from the night before had already been moved. He was in for a whipping, but he wasn’t about to take it lying down.

Dominique: She was already set with the damp towel rolled up tight between each of her hands. "Oh?" She chirped all innocent-like. Her wrists were a blur winding the towel up tight then sent it like a viper striking between then cracking the air in a loud snap.
She knew two things about Verne. He was fast and he was not one to take that and wait for another. She had two options. Roll like hell was on fire and snap again or run like her skin depended on it. She hurried and snapped at him again and ditched the towel and took for the four flights of stairs upward.

Verne: Her first mistake, whipping him with the towel, her second, was leaving the scene of the crime without it. She was about to get it tenfold. He started making his way up the stairs and shut each door behind him on every new floor with a bang so that she knew he was coming; forget the freaky shark music, Verne knew how to make his presence known and his feelings felt. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, ready or not, I’m gonna slap that bum.”
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Verne
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Re: How Long Will I Love You. [Dom]

Post by Verne »

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay—

Verne: He hadn’t been home more than a week and already Verne was beginning to slip back into his old routine nicely. The phone-calls to Russia had stopped as of this-morning, with his one night wham-bam deciding it was better off if she got rid of their little ‘mistake’ in favour of a nice fat cheque, one that all but emptied Verne’s bank account; too bad he couldn’t win the lotto again. The five-hundred-thousand dollars he had picked up the year before had lasted him quite some time, but not nearly as long as it should have in this day and age. Still, he had his health, or rather a strange sort of wonderful curse that seemed to almost completely stop him from aging, and heal any ailment before it became too much of a problem.

Though tonight seemed a quiet celebration for one big crisis averted, the situation had reminded the man that any chance of a normal life and fled long ago and that should be not be content with the way things were, he had on two choices, carry on, or let go. The man had been given a pair of shoes that had more miles on them than ten men should walk in one life-time and to this day, and for the rest of his life, however long that may be, he would continue to fight in order to fill them.

The training room was empty, and other than a very sleepy cat and one occupied dog, Verne had the place to himself. Dom would often go out of a night time, Verne never asked why, only accepted that there were parts of her life that he need not concern himself with, just as he was afford his secrets without question on her part. The Beauty and the Beast living in perfect harmony, neither deterred by what the other was, or might one day have to be; how could anyone know that such titles fit one and the same, even if Verne was a little rough around the edges, such was his charm.

The tall blonde crossed the room and rolled out mat that left the floor feeling slightly padded beneath his feet, though it did little to protect one from injury were they to trip and fall. Verne withdrew his sword, a long katana with the words ‘S o m e t i m e s • o u r • S a i n t s • a r e • S i n n e r s’ engraved along each side britannic bold style of font. Verne knew what it took to be a good swordsman, most battles being decided within the first thirty seconds of a fight. It was about balance, assessing your surroundings, remaining calm and keeping your elbows close to your body.

He liked to work out the flow of the battle and quickly attempt to take control. Measure and be sure of that measurement, then cut, for if your first blow missed, your opponent was likely to take advantage, both of your mistake and the position it left you in.

He would come down to the training room every now and then when things were quiet and scratch up on his swordplay. There wasn’t much to his training routine, a few small sandbags that dropped at random from the ceiling. A whack to the head from one of those things wasn’t exactly comfortable so it served its purpose in keeping the man alert and on his toes. When he wasn’t doped up, half hung-over or injured the man was a sword wielding, quick moving force to be reckoned with. The ring and middle finger on his left hand were taped up; he hadn’t realised till last night after the two of them had run home from swimming that he must have broken them in a recent bar fight he had witnessed but not participated in… much.

His hair was tied back out of his face, his black t-shirt gripping his upper body almost as tightly as he held the hilt of the katana. He wore the kind of pants one expected to see a tae kwon do class to adopt and his feet were bare for better grip. Sometimes he could cut and slash for hours without realising how much time has passed and it seemed tonight would be one of those nights. His mind was clear, the present was trouble free and his future seemed sure. ‘Remember The Name’ by Fort Minor played over the speakers with the touch of a button and the man disappeared into ‘the zone.

Dominique: Dominique learned something new every night before her eyes closed when the fresh morning rays finally arrived. A few nights ago it was not to take the elevator while racing Verne to the dock. She also learned the override switch she installed after that event was worth every penny as would be the look on his face when he finally caught she could no longer be locked up between floors. This was enough reason to smile but there was much more.

For the moment things were calm. It was rare but when it happened she savoured it for all it was worth. Nothing was missed. Moments. Each one had a million options to stop and absorb all that was around you. As she stood there with her mellow dark orbs floating to scan the space ahead of her as she moved through the levels of Vita Bella sensing him. Each step closer without sight of him physically she had already found him. His heat, the scent of his skin. He was close and he was working out. She leaned and peaked around the corner staying out of his view.

First she watched him, appreciating the way he nearly glowed beneath the lights. His restrained golden mane was like a lions. Strong, proud and fierce if needed. She felt the luxury of it so many times across her face, across her shoulders and in her parted lips when her mouth called out his name.

Just as Dominique was about to step in and join his space and simply watch her mind went into that mode she was known for. She stepped away and found what would make her joining him anything but what he would expect. She slid on the mask then took the tubular object into her hand. The batteries had just been changed so there would be no disappointment when the moment was right.

Without any sound she moved back towards him. He would know she was there. How could a human paladin not know a vampire was standing right behind them. She grinned and made that dark sound only one was known for.

Verne: His swipes were sure and his feet were ready to move him wherever his thoughts deemed but all the while a bigger power within the man was at work, that which granted him the power to know his surroundings without seeing them, to feel the presence of another without hearing them and smell when there was any hint of danger in the air. A Paladin’s ability to sense Vampires in their presence was uncanny, almost alien.

The smell of a Vampire could pull a man from deep sleep and have him on his toes before he knew he was awake. It was a profane smell the made one feel almost uncomfortable in his own skin; but it was also something Verne had learned to block out, especially while he was at home. At home he would be very venerable to any real threat, but here in these four walls he felt safe, safer than he ever should allow himself to feel.

Dominique’s attendance went unnoticed right up until the point that Verne felt as if someone was standing behind him, it could only be one of very few people. Just a handful had access to the building and even fewer to this room. He spun quickly and brought his blade down with a force that seemed unstoppable; but controlled enough to brace with only a half inch to spear before it would have been driven through the dark plastic mask that he was faced with. “I am your father,” he finished the sentence for the very familiar and world-famous voice. The katana was sheathed and Verne took a step back to admire the figure attached to the mask. “You can call me Daddy,” he teased with a wink, the light-saber going unnoticed.

Dominique: Dominique was in the role. Her dark side was coming forth but the innuendo of his statement not lost in the least. Her left hand, the dominant one twirled once and the low hiss then hum of the light saber coming to life and illuminating in-between them announced she was going for it. She spun quickly lowering on her heels then sweeping out her bare inked leg and went at his feet while the light saber spiralled up with her body to take a swipe at his side. Of course the collector toy would do nothing but hand to hand she would go if he wished. "Make me." She did a back flip and was on both feet like a ninja ready and waiting. Her right hand flattened to reveal the palm to the ceiling while her fingers wiggled for him to come hither.

Verne: She was quick-moving and as graceful as a Sawn on water. The light-saber made contact with the man’s side and any could see in that moment he had not been expecting the assault. As Dominique back-flipped out of the man’s reach he smiled, that slow, cunning smile that said ‘you know how this game ends’.

Verne undid the belt that held his katana in place and pulled it taut so that the leather collided against itself with a loud ‘snap!’ and the put it down on the ground greatly to free up his movement. He eyed Dominique and took two slow steps towards her like a lion sizing up the competition before making his move. His feet were quick against the padding of the mat and his hand swift as it came down to smack at the Woman’s backside, ever ready for the incoming blow from the light-weight toy that he expected this time and would be ready for.

Dominique: She felt the heat of his intent and assessment all at once. The man was hard to sway when his mind was set...and it was. The challenge was set and now she was feeling the swat landing to her unsuspecting backend. That gave rise to her own determination to meet him and raise the ante. Her left hand cut the air with the light-saber leaving a red streak across the space between them. Just as she cleared the move she sent it back to paddle him in return on the ***. She rolled and jumped up back to her feet. "Who is your Daddy now?" She giggled beneath the heavy black mask.

Verne: That giggle was distorted by the mask’s inbuilt voice-changing-device which made Verne laugh, his strong stance faulting for just a second as his body hunched forward with the amused sound. He wasn’t about to give in though, no, that wasn’t in Verne’s style and he lunged at Dominique again, this time swatting her weapon out of his path before crouching slightly to pick her up. “Use the force,” his voice thundered as he closed his arms around the woman’s thighs, her body hung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Dominique: It was the kind of hit taking her off balance like she was on the 10 yard line hoping to keep those rushing her punter before they could kick. "Oooph!" Went from her lips quick and she now had two free hands as she was over his shoulder. "I will show you force!" Of course she would. She leaned over and grabbed the waistband of his pants and gave it a tug the she felt it give as her hands came towards her chest and the middle of his back.

Verne: That did it. Verne was on his knees, his grip around Dominque wavering as he made a sound he couldn’t even associate with his own voice, something rather high-pitched and obviously pain-associated. “Quiet in the cheap seats,” he squealed and bowed down so that his forehead met the floor gentle and his left hand lay flat against the mat, the right between his legs as if that might help the pain.

Dominique: "Yes...." She released a low heavy sound. "Feel the force." She was really pushing it. He sounded in pain. Maybe she really did hurt him. This brought her to lean in and reach a hand to his shoulder. "You okay?"

Verne: Verne’s body went flat against the ground, one hand trap under him the other still hard against the mat. “Yes,” came another squeak, even though he felt far from it. “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Verne quoted and was surprised in that moment that the works of Yoda had sprung to mind, even in his state.

Dominique: She was demoted. Hard and quick and reminded of her costly and failed lesson at his expense. She was going to be lucky if she ever got to wear her mask or use her light-saber ever again. Back to Palawan status. She pulled the mask off and shook her face free of the dark strands that stuck to her face. "It has been noted for future reference." She bowed at the hips, one fully inked and the other rather healthy in its sun kissed colour...or so it would seem. Her hands came together as if she was showing respect in a dojo then she lifted back up. "Live long and prosper." She gave the Vulcan hand salute. Her dark eyes followed his movements hoping he would be alright.

Verne: Verne managed a laugh and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling for a moment to compose him-self before he found his feet. The tall male adjusted his pants and picked up his sword before leaving the room without another word, though he did look back to smile at Dom and offer a wink.

Dominique: That was that. Her hand scooped up the dark mask and the red glowing light saber and shut it off with the slide of her thumb. Happy to see him move off with no injury she sighed and figured that went not so well and would remember not to that again. Grateful for the large space over their heads she moved off to find something to do. She wasn't sure the smile she was left with was a good thing or not.

Verne: Verne had gone straight upstairs to the bedroom; the idea in mind had been given some thought and finally come to fruition; he was taking her with him this time, but not for business, the pair needed some time away from Harper Rock together, especially Dom. She had been through a hell of a lot in the last year and getting out of the city, hell, the country, would do wonders.

He went to the bed and pulled the woman’s suitcase out from under it. Verne’s suitcase was still sitting at the end of the bed on the floor, unpacked, and untouched since he had returned home. Going through the woman’s things was against his nature, but he figured this little surprise would excuse him this once. A man packing a woman’s suitcase, however, took some experience, none of which Verne had. Where did he start? Surely if he just followed his own checklist; underwear, cigarettes and an outfit or two things would be grand.

Dominique: Dominique was tempted to go upstairs to check the fridge for a beer and offer it to make amends. Was she going to do it? No. She just lifted the man’s bits a bit too high and he made a sound that didn’t sound healthy. She winced the more she thought about it. Make up sex was always an option if he was angry too long. She could find a teenage mutant ninja turtle chick outfit. Surely that would smooth things over. Her fingers drummed the surface of the Darth Vadar helmet. Why the hell was she standing there? Verne was Verne. She was Dom. They didn't get mad over petty **** and pinched balls. He wants to get even she has barbells. She was open to a free twist if that made things all even. Her feet made their way up to where they slept. Surely that was a reasonable offer. "Alright baby. I am ready to make nice." She paused to pat Rufus who managed to clear five feet over the last three days. "Signing Rufus up for the next great race. I see his training is paying off. He may be in the kitchen by Christmas."

Verne: Verne looked up from what he was doing and suddenly felt guilty to going through her things. He had a bright pair of lacy pink underwear in one hand and the t-shirt he had designed for he a while back in the other. On the bed was a bit wrapped fur he had picked up in Russia for Dom and forgotten to give to her the moment he’d returned home. “Poor little guy,” Verne smiled and quickly hid Dom’s wears behind his back. He looked at the open suitcase and the paper wrapped fur and tossed the t-shirt concealing the woman’s panties into the case. Now was his chance to make her sweat. “You’re out of her missy and you can take that crawling germ box with you,” he scolded, referring to Rufus.

Dominique: Inked hands picked the turtle up and watched Verne's hand disappear behind his back. She was out of here and ...Rufus?! What the **** did Rufus do to deserve being kicked out. Verne had a lot of nerve calling Rufus names. She wasn't sure he had seen Dog's warm presents yet. Surely there was a lot of fermenting germs in those miniature rolls. However, given she had made the wrong move earlier she was going to bite tongue and lip and turned back on her heels and took Rufus to safe ground. "Sorry little man, Seems Daddy is all in a mood. Forgive him for he knows not what he does." She released the small turtle to return to his sprint for his leaf bowl. Grumbling she plopped down on his chair and picked up magazine.

Verne: Verne shook his head as the two left and couldn’t believe Dominique would take him for his word when it was so harsh. He finished packing her suitcase and took it out to the lounge where he put it down before grabbing the keys to his car and heading down stairs. When he got there the car still had a couple of pieces on the floor that needed putting back in their rightful places, perhaps it would be better if they took something else, but he needed a car strong enough to tow the trailer and one of their bikes. Before long the man was upstairs again and back in the room to fetch his own suitcase, which he had forgotten in the rush. “Where is your toothbrush?” Verne stopped and asked the woman.

Dominique: She raised a brow standing there. Was that a hint? Wasn't he milking that whole error in Jedi moves a bit far? "I will get it." She disappeared and returned with it in hand. "I never asked before where you go but you just got back so since I am already batting a thousand tonight why don't you give me a hint." She fixed her fingers on her hips. "If you are intending on taking my toothbrush I think I have a right to know." She nodded once matter of fact.

Verne: Verne laughed; he wasn’t very good at being serious when the situation didn’t call for such. “We are going… anywhere you like, but I was thinking Vegas Baby, lights, music, gambling, eating, drinking, dancing, whatever my girl wants she gets and the pets are coming too! We can’t exactly leave them here and I’m sure we can put them in an ani-motel somewhere… While we party hard and live it up! Come on,” he encourage, “You deserve a break.”

Dominique: She was stepping forward and grabbing that face and kissing it and grinning. "Hell yes!" Rufus was scooped back up and she whistled which has a knee high spotted exotic cat and bull terrier skidding on their paws clearing a corner towards them. "Vegas!" She had never been there but it was hopping 24/7. It was perfect. She didn't wait. Her feet were in motion racing down the stairs.

Verne: “I’ll get the bags then,” Verne shrugged to himself and followed after her.

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for her and her alone
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