May 27th, 2006
|moosetoss||06:08 pm - All Women are Liars|
Scene: In YAH, both Spike and Julia are altered. They are sort of like reincarnations of their previous selves, so there is a familiarity there akin to deja vu. Anyways, these poses are from a log when they first meet in a smoky poolhall. Julia has been in a three year relationship with Vicious who is out of town. Both are in the Mafia.
Characters: Spike & Julia
Number Of Poses: Six
Series: Cowboy Bebop
I've bolded my favorite parts.
This is an AWESOME community. I'm surprised that it's been so neglected.
Oh well. Time to share :)
One long enhale, replaced by a smooth exhale. They say cigarettes help focus the mind, in Julia's case it had little to do with focus and everything to do with suicide - just inching her down into the grave. She winces visibly at the off shot, and smiles mentally to herself. Well, that had to be intentional. Seems the two were playing a game beyond billiards, some great live performance. Who was the better actor? Who was the better liar?
In this case, all women were liars. Perhaps Julia's honesty would startle the player in this game.
Dusting the chalk over her hands, she aims at a peculiar angle and eyes the second ball curiously. There is a sharp brush as it jumps over the obstacle and kisses the second number in line, sinking it into the side pocket.
"I guess we'll have to leave that to fate, won't we?"
Scratching the tip with the cube, she leans over and has the grave misfortune of 'accidentally' sending that pearl ball into the far right pocket. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" Yes, she's noticed the wincing. The pauses. The discomfort. He's evidently healing from something, as to what is anyone's guess.
"I already did. That's why I'm here," Spike says with a small, personal smile. He sees what she's doing, and he's starting to suspect that she's on to him. He plucks the cue ball from the pocket, and rolls it smoothly from his palm to the back of his hand, back and forth. He isn't at all shy about smiling and looking to see if she's impressed, playing it up.
"What would your boyfriend say if he heard you trying to get me into bed?" Spike asks, placing the ball down. He lines up his shot, bent over. Once he has his aim, he looks towards where the bodyguard vanished to pick up some cigarettes. Still looking away from the table, he sinks his next ball.
His cigarette has nearly dwindled to just ash in his mouth, and he drops it into an ashtray before lining up another shot. Another ball goes down, but on its heels the cue ball follows, and the game within a game continues.
Julia watches him briefly and can't help but smile as Spike shows off, the a flash of white flipping back and forth in its whimsical, unpredictable trail. She laughs and finally slows it to a closed mouth grin, touching the corner of her lips while shaking her head. "I want to say that I have never met anyone like you before, Spike. But something tells me... I have."
Slender fingertips collect the cueball from its pocket and she very simply aligns it with the fifth ball. With a crack, she sinks it as well as ball number six. The pleasure of 9-ball was that the game was always short lived, however with it the Cueball finds its resting place inside the corner pocket, leaving it to Spike's turn once more.
And what would her boyfriend say...? Eyes follow the stairs, searching as Charles waits in the darkness. "... I'll tell you in another life when we are both cats." Julia smiles.
"I think I know the feeling." Spike's next shot is unecessarily complicated, bouncing it more times than is called for and dropping number 7 into a side pocket. He still hasn't decided if he wants to win. He doesn't know if she'll leave him any other option. But maybe he could bring her flowers some day.
"I have to tell you something," Spike says. Balls crack against each other, and the 8-ball is left only inches from the hole, the cue ball right behind it. "I hate cats."
"Maybe you were a dog in a past life." Julia gently replies, tapping the 8-ball into its pocket. It's funny. For such a woman of deception, the lies are melting away. Maybe she's already come to the conclusion she'll never meet this lost soul again, so what's the point of lying to a man fated to follow the trail away from yours?
She sighs, watching the nine ball. Maybe she could learn to like roses. Chances were Julia would never get to see them except in her imagination. Red and warm. "Or... Maybe you were a bird." Little effort is spared as she accepts her win, the pocket swallowing the nine ball and leaving that pearly white one to bounce playfully off a wall. "It would explain why you hate cats. I know I was once a bird, maybe that's why you seem so familiar... you were someone from my flock."
Julia smiles, leaning back into the table and crushing the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. Eyes twitch back and forth as she regards Spike. "Your eyes are two different colors."
"Maybe I was just a guy who didn't like cats in a past life," Spike says seriously, but it doesn't last long, a smile breaking out. His eyes narrow in sudden suspicion. "Hold still," Spike warns her, reaching out slowly with his hand. "Trust me." Very carefully he brushes back a long lock of golden hair, pushing it behind her ear. His hand lingers for a moment, then withdraws, holding a cigarette in it.
"Now how'd that get there?" Spike wonders aloud, and shrugs before lighting it up. He smiles at her observation. It isn't something most people notice. "I know."
The rest of the scene can be found Here
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Rez by Underworld