M A N E A T E R ;

“Cute, you got anything else I’ve heard a thousand times already, or are we sticking with digging up the Bitch’s corpse every time someone wants to argue with me?” Jack questioned, a wry smirk spreading across handsome features as he finished off the last of someone else’s whiskey on the table. “Because I’ve already done that a couple times myself, to take a piss on her all over again. I’m the reason she’s dead too, mm? Or have we forgotten that little tidbit?” His questions were pointed, bitter, but his physical attention remained on the poor slave now trapped between them, one hand petting her hair in mock gentleness before he scoffed. “The hunt was a job, do you like working in your down time too?” He mused. “Next time you want to pretend you’re not fraught with a crippling loneliness, do me a favor, and leave my toys in the cavae where they belong, yeah? Maybe go out and make a friend. If that’s something you are… yanno. Capable of?” The poor slave certainly didn’t seem to know what she was supposed to do, not with Jack on one side and Gianna on the other. “Now now, there you go frightening the puppies again, look, she can hardly hold her drink.”

Gianna knew pushing his buttons would be easy, it always was. Jack’s past had been an easy target, and even Gianna knew she needed to find a new way to pick at him, otherwise this little game they were starting would get old real fast. Her nail kept moving on its slow and gentle decent and rise along the slaves leg, finger tip gently caressing bare skin when it was below her. “How could we forget, Jackie Boy, you never stop reminding us about your greatest conquest.” Gianna said as she glanced at the slave, noticing how tense she had gotten between them. Gianna brought the hand that had been propping her head up against the back of the booth down, fingers toying with the loose ends of blonde hair on the slave’s head, her other hand leaving the knee below it and snatching the champaign that had yet to be drank from the slave. “Problem solved.” Gianna said as she took a sip. “And for your information, nothing in the Cavae belongs to you. Claim them, and maybe I’ll leave them be. Until then, I’ll rent whomever I want, whenever I want.” Her voice rang out as she tapped a finger on the glass she held. Gianna let her hand graze Jack’s for just a split second as they both toyed with the hair of the slave between them, her lips curved into a smirk at the game they were playing. 

“This whole joint smells like a kennel.” Came a voice in response, Jack’s rough-hewn digits wrapped around a glass of whiskey, brow arching as she glanced over at him- or rather, the frightened slave he’d been cooing at for the last few minutes at the hems of her ‘celebration’. “Like scared, frightened animals. And you, dear girl, are the one holding onto a cattle prod and stalking the cages. Impressive work, I’d say. If it hadn’t been something I’d seen a thousand times before.” He stood, laughing under his breath as he knocked the base of his glass against the table, Shifting in place and placing a cigarette between too-perfect white teeth. “Now, had you managed this with masters, that would be a sight to see. But this? Like this? It’s easy, low effort. And I was only here because someone picked my plaything out of the Cavae before I could go fetch it, so I had to actually hunt for her… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mildly disappointed I found her having a party.”

Gianna sat back in her place, her eyes immedately drifting from the slave next to her, to the master on the other side of them. Eyes narrowing, Gianna looked at him before letting a soft sigh escape her red lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the smell of being locked up and frightened. If I recall, it used to be your general state of being- no?” She shot back, her eyes looking back at the frightened girl between them. “Here pet, you look like you need this.” She handed the girl her champaign as she turned, her body facing the both of them now with one leg crossed over the other, her arm being used as leverage against the back of the booth. “And I’m sorry you had to go hunting, Jack- I thought you would like the chase.” Gianna said as her now free hand came down to rest on the knee of the slave between them, long painted finger nail trailing up gently as she looked at him, the slave now caught between the two. 

Something as simple as laying at to tan had always been something that improved Anthony’s moods; being in the sunshine was as good as it was going to get for now, so he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Hell, even in Afghanistan he’d been freer than he was now - he could lay out at the end of the day, soak in the sun and enjoy the hot summer weather, have a drink in hand and not be restricted to an hour out of the barracks. Being trapped had him going stir crazy, he felt like a caged animal. “My favorite fuckin’ meal ever is a philly cheese steak sandwich with peppers and onions, a little mayo on the bread, and french fries.” He’d never cooked it for himself, but when he had the time to hit up little diners that was always his first choice if it was on the menu. He stayed still for a moment, hesitant to get into the car, but after a few seconds he shook that off and climbed in, making sure to buckle his seat belt. “Okay - that sounds good.”

Gianna felt herself getting impatient as the slave stared at the open door. But she knew this one would take a certain amount of...care. He really was like a caged animal, and something told her that if she made a wrong move he would go crazy on her- and being a council member and Mistress, it was something the slave should refrain from doing. While it wouldn’t be entirely her fault should he attack, Gianna didn’t exactly want to be pushing those buttons to begin with. Gianna nodded in response to his words, closing the door for him before walking around to the drivers side of the car and slipping in next to him. “I’m sure I have something at the house we could make that with.” she stated as she started the car, quickly shifting it into gear and pulling out. Glancing over at him, Gianna sighed. “Now, can you tell me your name or do I have to create my own for you?” 

permission  granted  from  ayda  to  occasionally  head  to  the  bar,  not  that  he  couldn’t  handle  himself  if  something  happened—  if  he  ended  up  with  marks  on  him  ;  wouldn’t  be  his  hide  in  trouble. another,  her  voice  draws  his  attention  moves  to  her  away  from  his  beer.  an  acquired  taste,  they  had  said,  luckily  his  tolerance  was  higher  without  the  rune,  but  it  still  tasted  like  trash  no  matter  how  many  sips  he  took.  how  many  he  wondered  until  it  started  tasted  like  an  actual  thing  that  he  could  put  into  his  body.  she  was  new  in  town,  or  at  least  he  hadn’t  seen  her  around.  “I  suppose  if  alcohol  didn’t  taste  like  shit.”  a  sip  is  taken  from  his  beer  and  he  has  to  restrain  himself  from  making  a  sour  expression.

Gianna had been part of the council for years now, but her work took her in and out of the Parrish. With her main office located in Seattle, Gianna found the Parrish something more like a vacation spot. She was there at least every weekend, unless work made that impossible. The Mistress had her usual rentals, though one of them had just bought their residency so she was branching out, looking for newer playthings. Gianna’s head cocked to the side, her red lips puckered just slightly as she sighed. “It’s because you’re drinking the actual shit.” She stated. Leaning forward, Gianna swooped up the bottle in the middle of the table- it had been sitting in the ice mostly for looks but that didn’t stop her from popping it open. Her eyes glanced over as she poured him a glass. “Here, try this.” She handed him the glass. 

if she thought threats were of any use here, against him, then she was setting herself up for disappointment. he was a guard. but more than that, he was a scout, the sole reason for some of these slaves being in their cells. threats were a common thing in his world. he leaned in a bit, closing the distance between them so his voice could drop and she could still hear him. “then hurry. the fuck. up.” and he leaned back, the space placed between them again. “and quit wasting my time.”

Gianna faced forward, her eyes scanning the room. Her interest in any of the slaves was seemingly absent, and she was about to give him just what he wanted and walk away- but at the feeling of his breath at her ear, and the lowered tone of his voice, Gianna found her interest in someone else entirely being piqued. With a devilish curl to her red lips, Gianna turned on her designer heels, body facing him in a swift motion. “And if I don’t?” she asked, her brow raising. “Please, do tell, what will you do to me should I fail to follow your wishes?” She asked as she stepped forward just the smallest bit. 

Once he had stretched and felt a bit more comfortable, Anthony walked along easily. His legs cramped as he walked, but he figured that this would help; the evening hour outside had been nothing more than a sick joke of getting a taste of the summer breeze and sunshine, and he absolutely hated it. Truthfully, he wanted either Ileana or Roman to get him out for a while because he knew he’d have a bit more freedom with them and could probably coerce them into letting him be outside, but this was better than nothing at all, better than staying in the cavae. “I can cook in a microwave,” Anthony had never had a reason to cook; his meals were supplied to him while he was in the marines, and when he was home on leave he usually ordered take out. “I mean, I’m not particularly good at cooking anything - didn’t ever learn how to, really.”

Gianna glanced over as they walked, her mind seemingly bouncing from one thing to another. She couldn’t quite forget the way the man looked at her while still behind his bars, and how much his demeanor had changed just from being let out. She almost wondered how a little more freedom, food, and even new clothing might get him acting. This thought brought Gianna to a stop as they reached her car, hand resting on the passenger door handle as she turned to face him. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that.” She stated. “Pick something, anything you want to eat-” She said as she pulled on the handle, opening the door as she stepped to the side. “And I’ll teach you how to cook it without a microwave.” She finished. Her eyes scanned him once more, “..And we’ll get you out of those clothes, maybe a shower as well.” It was a rare moment of kindness from her, but lord only knew how long it would take for the rich bitch to come back out. Nodding towards the empty seat, she urged him. “C’mon, get in.” 

In any other situation - if he was on the other side - he wouldn’t feel bad. Anthony had been trained for too many years to get rid of his sympathy, to stop feeling bad for anyone, to stop feeling any kind of guilt whatsoever. That was just a part of the job, and it was something he had to deal with; hell, he didn’t even feel bad for himself when he got hit with the overwhelming anxiety that came with noises that were too loud, nor did he feel sorry for himself for being stuck in his current situation. It just wasn’t in his blood. “Pissing off people is my forte, it’s what I’m good at.” Plain and simple, Anth was a brat - there had never been any question about it, he always had been. There had just been times when he’d had to be more subtle about it. “Maybe so, but there’s no guarantee,” It would, he knew that, but he didn’t want to admit that she was right. “Well, it’s appreciated.” As the door opened, Anthony stood up slowly and stepped out, taking a moment to stretch his limbs out before looking at the woman. “Let’s get going, then, I guess.”

Gianna had been home for a hot minute before venturing to the cells. She literally dropped her bags, had a glass of wine, and then left. She was a mover, constantly on the go, so the idea of sitting home and relaxing alone was a foreign concept to her and frankly unacceptable. When the cage opened and he stepped out, Gianna let her eyes rake over his body in lighting better than in the cell- not bad, she thought to herself. His suggestion to get going made her chuckle, but she simply nodded, letting him make the moves for now. Animals were testy beasts after being locked up, Gianna knew better than to make the wrong move while he was still fresh out of confinement. Turning on her stiletto heels, she led the way, but was sure to stay at his side to keep things level between the two, if only for the time being. “Can you cook?” She asked, curiously as she walked with him out of the cavae, leading him towards her Lexus that was parked outside. She would be willing to feed him, but if she could get him to actually cook the meal to avoid ordering out, Gianna wouldn’t mind it. 

Being cooped up was enough to drive him up the wall. Anthony was used to roaming free, doing as he pleased for the most part; his time in Afghanistan had been long, and when he wasn’t out working he did what he wanted. This was just too much, being kept inside, and he hated it.Looking up at the woman, the marine narrowed his eyes a bit. “People like biting, but not the kind I’d be doing,” He countered, teeth bared as he leaned forward, inching closer to the bars again slowly. “This hell hole is full of sick fuckers, that much is painfully obvious. I would dare to place you in the same category for being here.” He was being rude, more so than usual, but he couldn’t help it. The two hours outside each day just wasn’t enough, it was making his mood shift to one he hadn’t had in a while.

Gianna could see it plain as day in his actions and words- the poor thing was going stir crazy. Though, she would be too if she was locked in a cage 23 hours out of the day. But she wasn’t, so her sympathy was hardly there. Gianna was a selfish woman, always had been. Apart from a few people- people who were no longer alive, Gianna didn’t have attachments. She learned her lesson on that one. His counter brought a sinister smirk to Gianna’s red lips, her eyes watching him almost hungrily as he inched closer. “I’d be careful who you go calling names. Might piss off the wrong person.” She warned him, again. His rudeness was enticing. Enough for her pity to grow just a little. Head turning to a guard, Gianna nodded her head their way. Backing up a bit as they approached, Gianna looked back at the caged man before her. “This sick fucker is going to let you out for a break.” She stated, eyes dark in the low lighting of the cavae. “Maybe some fresh air will help you with manners.” 

Anthony had been in a bad mood for the last couple of days; the weather was getting warm and being inside was driving him nuts. As he heard someone approaching his cell, the revenant scooted back across the floor until his back hit the other side, away from the door. “Don’t touch me - I’ll fucking bite your fingers off.”

Gianna had returned from a business trip, a delivery to a rouge group of terrorists. Did she know that her guns landing in their hands would most likely lead to blood and chaos? Yes. Did she care? No, not really. The trip had been long, and lonely, so naturally her first stop after arriving back to Evergreen would be the cavae to take her pick of some pleasurable company. Someone to either bend to her will, or have the balls to take the control from her- either would be preferred. 

“Oh, no.” Hayes stood, arms crossed at his chest. He was watching. Waiting for the other to make a move. To try something, anything. “I’m waiting on you, princess. Please, by all means, take your fucking time.”

Gianna stood at the head of the room, eyes scanning the different cells and the slaves that inhabited them. At the sound of the man behind her, Gianna simply crossed her arms, eyes rolling at his impatience of her indecisiveness. Gianna’s head turned, looking at him from over her shoulder. “You know, rushing me isn’t the wisest choice.” She warned. “Unless you like claw marks, that is.”