September 1st, 2006
|moosetoss||10:54 pm - Two Bestposes|
I'm posting a couple actually.
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. As such, Julia is still in a three year relationship with Vicious. All three are in the mafia, Jules has only known Spike for five months.
Spike takes Julia on a planeride.
Characters: Spike & Julia
Number Of Poses: Seven
Series: Cowboy Bebop
"Roger that," Spike says, and the plane begins to climb again, steeply this time. The engine gives a whine of protest, making noises that sound somewhat threatening as they head towards the clouds. He doesn't miss the slight change in her tone, observant little rat that he is.
"I don't see much of the guy these days. I figured you for keeping him busy."
Julia smiles, closed lip. It is an expression she reserves only for sincerity or stress. "No. He's just good at disappearing from the scene. I suppose he doesn't like to be seen too often. To be honest, I don't know what he's been up to. Vicious doesn't talk to me." Just one big silent agreement. Vicious never speaks to her and Julia's already aware he probably doesn't listen when she does talk.
Might be one explanation to Julia's sudden appreciation of Spike's company. Neglected and lonely for several years, it was a nice change. "You know, I haven't seen you since your birthday. Hope you haven't done anything reckless since then."
"Reckless comes with the territory," Spike says, the smile evident in his voice. He's troubled by what she says about Vicious though. Julia's persistence is slowly moving her from 'friend's girlfriend' to an actual friend. The sky is getting dark around them, a storm that is beginning to fall on Midgard. The ride is getting increasingly more bumpy.
"Just rescued a few maidens, fought a few dragons. That sort of thing. You okay back there?"
"Rescued a few maidens from the same dragons you fought, I take it? Lucky girls," Julia laughs. "Maybe the Maidens were trying to rescue those dragons. But maybe they didn't know what they got into, devoting themselves to their own deaths. Foolish girls. Good thing you saved them from their own silliness."
It's a secret message scrawled inbetween the lines of humor. Julia only loses that closed mouth smile when teeth bite into her lower lip. Stress and fear overwhelm her, intensified only by the outside elements. "Am I okay? I'd lie if I said I was, but I'm not going to let my fears stop you. Keep going."
"How do you save someone who's embracing death?" Spike wonders aloud, and wonders inside at what other meanings might be behind the words. "I don't believe anyone can be forced to do anything they don't already want to. And it wasn't really a dragon, just a big dog," Spike adds.
"I'm not going to stop," Spike promises, as they climb higher and higher. The engine shudders, threatening to stall, and the air pressure steadily changes causing ears to pop. "If your eyes are closed, keep them open, because here it comes..." Spike says. Moments later they are in the clouds, the world grey and dark around them. Only briefly though, before they burst through, sudden sunlight dazzling on the eyes.
"You can't," Julia answers his question. "At first, you might think you can. And you might try... but once you realize you can't, it's too late. That someone whose embracing death has you tied to a leash, and you can only ponder the tragedy of your mistake." The woman laughs, "Reminding me. That game we played, the drinking one? I lied on one of the questions. I'm actually very scared of dying. I'm sorry."
Dizzy by the pressure, the woman swallows as ears pop and mind swims. The clouds part and darkness evaporates into light. Spike should hear Julia gasping over the com.
"People are as free as they want to be," Spike says tightly, feeling a spot of anger welling in his stomach. "Some people think being free means being irresponsible. But it doesn't. It means taknig responsibility for everything in your life. Everything you do."
The engine sputters at the steep climb and the decreasing air pressure. "Yeah?" Spike says, surprised by her admission. "Don't be," he tells her, and there is sudden silence as the engine finally stalls. Motion slows and stops, and for a split second they are suspended in mid-air, sky above and clouds below, entirely free. "I'm not," Spike whispers as the plane drops with a sudden lurch, falling through the clouds.
Scene: Julia was in a bit of a scuffle with the Yakuza. She returns home slightly wounded, only to find Vicious. There is a brief discussion on the unique likenesses between both Vicious and Spike, as well as their lack of fear towards death - something that frustrates Julia to no end.
Characters: Vicious & Julia
Number Of Poses: 10
Series: Cowboy Bebop
The rattle of keys as the door opens, a heavy sigh and mind the motions as she walks in with heavy feet. The keys are tossed into the fruitbowl, one hand sweeping the table and collecting the remote to the stereo. A few clicks later and BB King is playing the blues on surround sound, down goes the control back to the table and Julia steps towards the fridge.
Lately, she's been missing from home.
Lately being the last two days.
Though the woman wasn't beyond leaving a note for Vicious. 'Out to buy groceries' was recent, but instead of groceries she comes in empty handed. There were other times where she'd write - 'Spike's birthday. Come join!' or 'Going to the bar' or 'Does Spike eat? Bringing him leftovers. Call'. Just the idle trappings of a woman bored by material excess.
She returns to the table and begins to chew on a make-do salad, touching the tear on the side of her catsuit, stained bandages visibly peaking from a recent bulletwound. Spike wasn't thrilled to save her, and Julia's still not sure how to approach Vicious.
"Authorities are still speculating as to the recent rise of violence in Litt-"
The electric hiss of a TV cutting off can be heard.
He sets the remote control on the stand, rising from the bed and shutting the wall panel. Across in the nearby closet, his coat and jacket, neatly pressed and hung. Perhaps a little uncharacteristically, he's dressed casually. Just the dress shirt and slacks. It's to be expected--this is their house. After all.
"A little later than I expected.." Vicious begins, making his way out of the bedroom. The notes left to him have been neatly arranged in a drawer, the product of a taste for fastidious cleanliness, but nothing so personalized so as to leave one of his own. Some would disappear immediately, others abandoned for the night, but now all have been collected.
His look is like a knife turned to its side. Gentle, for now. Examining Julia closely.
The bird sitting on its perch in the corner stretches its wings in some gesture of predatory irritation at the thin air.
[OOC] Julia says, "I hate that damn bird e_e"
[OOC] Julia says, "I hope you are planning on saving that thing for Thanksgiving dinner"
[OOC] Vicious says, "no! not fluffbutt"
[OOC] Julia says, "... Spike named it when he was drunk, didn't he?"
[OOC] Vicious ._. guilty.
"I had to get the car back," Julia sighs into her salad, pitching a fork in green leaves. Metal prongs fixed and twirled through, spooning it into her mouth with a grunt. No sense hiding anything from Vicious, she already had time to think on what to say, and right now is a better time than never to be perfectly honest about the situation.
"I went to the asian market. They recognized me. Luckily, at the time, I was talking to Spike so he was able to point out my location before the first wave."
Julia pitches her fork back into lettuce, folding and swallowing. Drinking a mouthful of wine before she continues, "Three killed, I was wounded. Spike grabbed me and we went to the closest safehouse - his place. His doctor repaired the wound, and I left just earlier to get my car."
The woman grunts, "There would've been more trouble if I didn't retrieve the cadillac. There was a brief chase, but I'm out. Spike was also following me."
Rubbing at her temples, Julia finishes by saying, "I had no idea they were monitering their territory, or that they consider all of Little Japan as theirs. Doesn't seem to matter much now that Wes is planning an all out war."
A glass slides across the counter. The staccato 'wet xylophone' sound of ice dropping into the glass, then a bottle of that same wine fills it--only enough to float the ice, and to leave it at that. Vicious had peculiar tastes, when he decided to indulge in them. Symmetry, in his own fashion, was a fleeting but noticeable trait. A coincidence of great calculation and planning, if you will.
"Hmph," Vicious grouses. It's not clear whether he knew about the event beforehand or not, but he takes position leaning on the counter, glass in one hand, folded across his opposite hand. As the bird clucks grumpily in the background, Vicious pauses a moment. "...Then," he resolves, "this 'war' will be advantageous for us." He taps the glass against an elbow before taking a drink.
His eye lingers, just a moment, over the holes in Julia's suit, and the bandages peeking through. His jaw sets.
"I've been in Little Japan," he explains. "Watching."
His expression darkens, considerably. Another glance to her injuries.
"I'm getting a little tired of the common rats thinking they can get away with anything."
[OOC] Vicious just gets progressively more and more pissed off :|
[OOC] Julia says, "Oh god Vicious scares me sometimes D:"
[OOC] Julia says, "so creepy"
[OOC] Julia wonders how she got into this relationship omg
[OOC] Vicious killed your last boyfriend then applied for the job, suh
[OOC] Vicious has been particularly forgiving of these guys since they got in the middle of our trade
[OOC] Vicious says, "but naw-- now I've had it C_C"
[OOC] Vicious says, "I have had it with these motherfucking yakuza hurting my motherfucking woman!"
[OOC] Vicious just starts rocking the plane!
The woman only shakes her head once, sending threads of blonde curls in various directions. Grey eyes catch Vicious, watching him regard headling wounds and broken latex. Ever the man of detail, can't get anything past the predator. Leaving a half finished salad, Julia joins the man at the counter. Hip tilted in his direction, one hand raising to touch his shoulder while the other mildly rotates her wine. "You'd've been proud of me," She mentions with a bit of melody to her voice, brows raised as she smiles around her glass.
"Killed two of those three men. One at the neck, best to my recollection. I also made a new friend, a woman. I think she's a criminal. Reminds me of what Spike would be like if he were a woman."
Julia laughs, "A whole lotta trouble. And a bit of an exhibitionist too."
She turns, and leans back into the counter, side facing Vicious as her amused nature dies down, "Is that why you've been distant? Staked in Little Japan? Doesn't matter much, gave me an excuse to get to know Spike a little more as a friend. I'm still surprised you two work so well together. I've never seen such opposites in my life. But at least you two have something in common."
Julia frowns, eyes looking ahead, "The both of you aren't afraid of death."
"Did you, now?" Vicious' voice is a cold murmur originating somewhere deep in his throat. Successfully distracted, if only for a moment, the man allows the faintest of grins at Julia's admission. It would be overly crass--and just a little trite--for Vicious to indulge in any of his deeper preoccupations, the menagerie of which one could spend an entire night divining.
Farbeit for Vicious to be crass.
At least, not around the lady.
So he occupies his thoughts with something less overt, "... really," he remarks, just close enough to remind that his breath is still hot and not ice cold, a hand brushing a hip just so. "I suppose it'd be too much to ask the name of someone who's caught your eye," the man wonders flatly.
The topic of his work distracts Vicious from the familiarity they'd shared--and only they. As if timed just so, his hand absently brushes the bandage. A distraction doubled so. His frown is something well set into his face. Something just as familiar. A quiet enough assent. Enough to make his answer clear.
"Death is just a release. Here... we'll build everything it is we desire here. Enough so that the afterlife will seem a disappointment." Even if the castle they build is founded on the skulls of their enemies.
The woman smiles thoughtfully as hand brushes hip, the sound of latex suit stretching as weight is shifted to the right leg. Ocean grey pools regard bits of silver, gaze twitching back and forth. Red lips grin, "She's my friend and mine alone, but her name reminds me of fairies if you want to play riddles." Ms. Faye, funny lady luck Faye. A little too much like Spike and a little too much the kinda woman Julia always wanted to be.
Her hazy grey gaze regard Vicious, watching as his frown sets across pale features. Her heart sinks. Happiness is fleeting, and Julia is again reminded of what's wrong in this relationship. Surrounded by material objects, material subjects, materials upon materials. Gold, diamonds, and silver - easily spent and destroyed.
Funny how love can blind you until its too late.
"There are things much richer in life than what you can see with your eyes," Julia adds gently, finishing her wine in one drink. She laughs for no reason, something typical in her character. Amused, "We could just keep on living until we forget we were meant to die."
One hand collects the bottle, glass refills to the top - stained with wine and redlipstick. "Spike really respects and trusts you."
He was a tangible person. He viewed here as here and the afterlife as afterlife. He never took much serious thought to seizing the ephemeral and things that he couldn't directly lay hands on. His preoccupation and subconscious direction was the closest he'd ever come to that.
He wasn't even quite sure how to describe it, but just--touching--something like that for a moment. It was a heady sensation. And not something he delved into lightly. So he prefers to look at things the simple way.
There's what you have. What you don't have. And what you can take.
That's the only difference he's ever found it useful to bother with.
He'll let her have her fun. If only for now. Vicious moves forward, closer to Julia. Only for a moment, brushing a strand of pure gold from her eyes. He sets his own glass to the counter beside her.
"Spike is cut from the same cloth. He understands one of the few truths in this world worth believing in," he explains. Vicious wasn't about to admit it directly, but in a lot of ways, he relied on Spike. The same as he did Julia. "That's an understanding we share. And respect one another for it. You see.."
If Julia offers no complaint, he will take her by the back of the neck and--gently--plant a wanting kiss on her forehead. It's the one meaningful indulgence he'll allow. For the moment. It's something needed, to distract himself from the business of the day. What he needs to do. What is inevitable that he would do. Against her hair, he whispers.
"Forgetting that we should be dead.. we'd just forget what living means."
His touch, his contact, would break slowly, but inexorably.
Vicious will leave the glass, mostly empty, on the counter.
[OOC] Julia says, "julia is so sleeping with him tonight"
[OOC] Vicious says, "vicious wins the yahmush."
She draws back slowly, back pressed into counter until the flats of her palms press into the polished surface. As Vicious draws closer and presses cool lips across her forhead, the woman is reminded of all the reasons she loves him - doubts expressed in her own mind and also to Spike swept aside. One fluid motion and she pushes her weight up and onto the narrow bar, arms drawing around the man's shoulders, hands at his neck and one leg curling just at his waist. Red lips split into a mischievious smile, Julia playing the role of a devilish angel Ocean grey eyes drink his image, and her split self emerges. The girl in aprons better known to Spike is replaced by the girl in a catsuit who only appreciates Vicious.
Though between both worlds Julia exists, concerned and lost.
"There's something Spike said that worried me. That he plays with death in order to feel alive. He's not afraid of it, sometimes I think that he goes looking for it. And sometimes I think that when I look at you, you treat death as if its your friend and your comfort."
Threads of golden hair fall over Vicious, a curtain of warmth and security. Her forehead moves to press into his, staring cross-eyed with a smile, "To truly feel alive is to be afraid of death. If you aren't afraid of dying, than you don't really care about living, do you?" And leading that question, Julia tilts her head to warm her lips against his.
Julia hops off the counter with a sway of hip, one hand raised as she looks over her shoulder. "There are things life can give you death simply can't. You can crush as many skulls as you like, but I doubt the pleasure will be equal to love's expression only life can grant. I will worry when the day comes that you prefer killing to a kiss," The woman is already heading into the bedroom, moving like the devil and smiling like an angel.
It doesn't take a lot of creativity to imagine just exactly what Julia is suggesting right now.
[OOC] Julia says, "Vicious is totally getting nookie tonight. z_z"
[OOC] Julia says, "you should be there tomorrow"
[OOC] Julia says, "So you can experience sexy spike and what have you"
[OOC] Vicious --- okay spike is not mentioned on the way or in the bedroom ever, especially not sexy spike!
[OOC] Vicious just-- ruined now :(
[OOC] Julia says, "... DId I say sexy spike? I meant to say Sexy Hike!"
[OOC] Julia says, "You need to experience a sexy hike."
[OOC] Vicious feel better
For a moment.. Vicious' expression softens, brow knitting in thought. It's something confusing to him, the ideas, the feelings presented to him. Maybe that's why his company--his love--is something offered exclusively to her. Pressed against her so, he breathes her sweet scent, something as intoxicating to him as that which he cannot have. First, his quicksilver gaze is directed downwards, but he comes to meet her eyes in due time. Teasing his senses, an act deliberate, something he recognized and knew, instinctively. It was something that drove him in a very base way.
His faint, short laugh is hardly sterile.
"I wouldn't know about that," he admits, in the warmth between them. "But we're all alive... So I'll worry about what I have here, for now." he suggests, an odd acquiescence touching the edges of his normally deathly chill voice. Maybe he'll allow himself to think she's right. Maybe he can believe it long enough for it not to matter. He'll allow himself to need, even as his hands stay perched on that glass, never having had the chance to release it. But nothing more. Even as her lips meet his, that hand burns on the ice cold glass. He would deny himself the pleasure of touch. Purposefully.
Just another way..
But as she leaves, he remains silent. His attention is drawn to her passing, that scent and the silver strands in front of his gaze linger, a stray blonde hair mingled with his. His eyes, narrow and keen, follow her. The ice sounds in his glass as he shakes it absently. He downs the rest of it in one draught, setting it carefully into the sink. His mouth takes to a humble smirk. He'd deny himself that. But for how long? There's only one option here, as far as he's concerned. One hand in pocket, Vicious will, only a few moments shy, begin to quietly follow Julia to the back.
God, Vicious & Spike are such good rpers.
Current Mood: devious
Current Music: How Blue Can You Get - BB King