VIPER

                   HE HAS KNOWN CRUELTY. he has known terror. since the final days of Ah’Rak, it is all he has ever known. Spock remembers it now, feeling the loss of the desert as he had every soul that had been swallowed into the darkness with it. in his mind’s eye, his memories supply him with the same sharp tug, that ripping & tearing pain like ripping hair from the root. earth has sought to remind him of where he belongs each moment since then. everywhere. nowhere. shuffled by the hands of weaker beings, stealing power that was not theirs to take. he feels his heart thunder in his ears as he stares at her, tells her suddenly, ❝ i wish to leave, ❞ consuming her words sitting like hot coals in his belly.  ❝ i want to leave, & yet—i find i cannot. i should leave, because despite your reassurances, i am having a difficult time discerning whether you are giving or taking from me. ❞  

It is her who has preached the need to expect everything, yet it is surprise that stalls the air in her throat. Being wrong is never a pleasure, but always a learning experience— Viper had set expectations for the half-Vulcan and Spock trampled each until it lay useless and dead beneath his boot. The man remained an unscratchable itch not matter what she threw at him. Too interesting to give up, too unpredictable to control.   “You have yet to try to kill me, which I just find absolutely fascinating.”   The woman leans back, shoulders turning lax in foux comfort and gaze apathetic, painting a portrait of someone unconcerned and unthreatened. 

his boys were smart enough not to growl, they’d already gotten her attention, there was no need to intimidate the woman even more. she may be concealing her emotions quite well at the moment, but the god could tell she was quivering in her boots. most mortals cowered in his presence, his powers, despite his reign on them, had a way of seeping out when particularly – vulnerable individuals were near.

eyes track the movement of her hair and he watches as she adjust her stance, not bothering in the slightest to hide the fact that he was following the path her fingers navigated. with the barest hint of his lips ticking up, hades hums deep within his chest as a hand lifts and slips into his slack’s pocket. ❛ yes, so i can see, ❜ he replies, his opposite hand coming up to wipe at his mouth, shifting his weight to his other leg. when she mentions his boys, their ears perk up and with a subtle snap of his fingers, they’re standing down and sitting while continuing to guard their target.

the god’s amused that she doesn’t look at them and instead holds his gaze. there weren’t very many mortals foolish brave enough to stare him dead in the eye. flattery, oh did it play into his vanity and stroke his ego in the best way… ❛ how kind… i clearly had to step up my game to steal the spotlight away from your radiance, ❜ it wasn’t said in jest, it was said because it was true. the woman was quite a sight… offering his hand to her, when she takes it, hades brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the her knuckles. ❛ i am aidon deamons… and who might you be, dear? ❜

Narcissism is the pilot light of her soul, always present deep within where it feeds at every scrap of positive attention turned to her— And the way his eyes chase her fingertips throws hot coals to stoke that flame into a blaze. Delight dances across her features, pulling dark lips into a sultry smile and straightening her exposed spine. Even the shift of danger-on-paws in her periphery does naught to stifle her enjoyment of a clearly powerful man enraptured by her form. Enhances it, in fact— the dichotomy of unease and pleasure so intertwined in her existence they’ve become nearly indistinguishable. 

Still, she cannot shake a wrongness that clings to her, tugging and pushing, insistent. It has not escaped her notice that none of the guests dare approach them. Nor that their pompous host had nearly pissed himself to get away— a man who had literally kissed her feet and begged for the opportunity to have the Emerald Queen on his arm. Not even the bouncers, who had previously thrown a woman out for a chihuahua in a purse, have come to scold this man.

“It seems you have been quite successful in doing so.”   She slips her hand in his— gripping firm at first, then lax as he maneuvers it to his lips. The name brings with it no familiarity. An opportunity to expand upon the vast network of connections of her empire, then. Hopefully, one worthy of the distraction from her primary goal of the night.   “And he is a gentleman. I must admit, you are making me forget I am here with a date, Mister Deamons.”   Stubbornly, her gaze remains fixed on Aidon. Sly smile still resting upon her features, she lies to his face,   “I am Leona Hiss, darling.” 

the woman’s comment and tone throws her off, something about it makes her feel like she did not want to get on her bad side… green eyes flick behind the woman to the massive beasts looming in the background. though she had the power, she didn’t know if she had the might to try and fight them off… still highly uncomfortable with what’s going on, the powered girl turns innocent eyes to – ophelia. the only person to have shown her any sort of kindness lately… sweet darling, that’s a petname she’d always imagined her mother might have used for her, only it’s coming from this total kind stranger. something deep inside of her feels like she should trust the woman, despite only just meeting. the closer she gets and the gentler her voice becomes, the more buttercup hopes she’s going to be the light at this dreary, dreadful tunnel. ❛ b-buttercup, ❜ she stutters out and once she’d cleared her throat, the green-eyed girl presses her lips together in thought. ❛ – i don’t know… i’ve never had a say before. ❜

                 HIS EYES ARE DARK THINGS, thin slivers of obsidian sitting in his face. Spock is not a creature—neither Vulcan nor Human—who allowed himself to be passive or uninformed. he needed to know things—everything, if possible. & Viper’s leaving him in the dark was growing more infuriating by the day. flexing his hands, he imagines bunching his fingers into Viper’s hair to yank from her seat. he required answers, an incentive to stand still, or she would have to be discarded. blandly, he says, ❝  you infuriate me. ❞

                  A RIDGE OF HIS TEETH & the glint of canines scrape open Spock’s lips. he is bored—frustrated—with this inability to keep moving; that they have allowed others the possibility in havoc upon the snap of limbs & bloody bones. he allows a growl to pass—low & deep & insistent inside his throat—when he lurches from the table, stalking the room. he barely registers the ache of his own fist against a console, glass splintering the surface, ❝  you can be certain i will hold you to them. tell me your plans. ❞

@hailviper·   /    starter. 

               ❝  WHAT DO YOU INTEND TO gain from this—directionless dalliance?  ❞  Spock sneers. anger & trust form a heady mix, flooding his synapses & making him question whether it is his own impatience—a hypocrisy—or simply efficiency that lends a bite to his words. he tampers the urge to snap the table in half,   ❝  i grow tired of waiting.  ❞ 

with the recent opening of a new casino is las vagas, the god decides to ascend to the human world, wanting to see the new building. wanting to know more about the poor retched soul that’s opened it and to discuss his cut. no one opened anything worth a serious profit, without giving a little a lot to founder of this here deplorable town…

never actually needing backup, he still brings along cerberus, which he splits into three individual dogs, a body for each head, since mortals were easily spooked and he didn’t need any unnecessary attention on him. regardless of whatever form he was in, cerberus was a loyal hound, flanking him on all sides like a triangle off leash. it helped give him a wide birth of space so mortals didn’t foolishly get in his way.

greeted at the entrance, hades is escorted inside along with cerberus and brought up to the vip lounge where the owners and other influential people were gathered. as he moved about the room, the god could see just how sinful and damned these souls were, but one stood out amongst the crowd. he hadn’t seen an aura like that before and it shocked him to realize why he hadn’t seen it. they were a soul that had made it to the gates of the underworld and made it back to earth. a short whistle and the dogs are off, moving as one they target the individual in question. once they’ve cornered the woman, viper as he came to gather from whispers around the room, hades makes his approach.

bowing just a little, hades offers a soft grin, ❛ you seem to be the talk of the room… ❜

۰•● @hailviper·┊plotted starter┊hades &* viper

Everything is grandiose, shining golds highlighted by bright neons. The host had clearly pulled out all the stops, making the grand opening exactly that: GRAND. So much so, it may even have measured up to the extravagance of casinos in Madripoor, once upon a time when she still had dominion over them.

She does not spend too much time admiring details, refocusing her attention to the man of the hour. A squat individual with bright green wrapped around his throat to match her own gown. ( And for a man to willingly place a NOOSE about his neck-how foolish. It has always been a source of amusement to the murderess. So many men fallen to her hands, turning various shades of blue as she pulled and pulled and PULLED. )

They are in the middle of an introduction— Viper clasping the hand of an Italian mob son whose eyes stray daringly to the curves her dress cling to— when her date suddenly pulls away. The heat at the crook of her elbow dissipates, no longer wrapped around a too-warm arm and the chill causes her to tense.

It doesn't take long for her to understand the nature of his sudden departure or the hush blanketing the lounge— Three dogs flanking her. TRAPPING. She takes a step back, distributing her weight in preparation for the worst— outwardly appearing simply to be startled. Embarrassingly, her heart skips a beat, fingers twitching for a gun and knives.

Then he is there— she presumes him to be the owner of the unpredictable beasts who part for him— an unknown man with a charming tilt to his lips. Something UNNATURAL twists at her, coiling about her organs, agitating. The woman cannot place her unease, but trusts the instincts cautioning her that there is something awry. She clenches her jaw for a moment, getting a handle of herself before returning his grin with an alluring one of her own.

"I try my best to be,"— she lifts strands of dark hair from her shoulder, resting them atop an open hand, and pushing back. Then, drags fingertips over the newly exposed collarbone, down to the silk folds over her breast, before falling to her side again— "having everyone's attention is a guilty pleasure of mine. It seems I may have caught yours. And that of your- HOUNDS."

inbox gift from: @thechimcra​                             “You’re weird.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle, nose scrunching, cheeks lifting. A chuckle rolls from deep within her chest, more a push of air through the nose than an audible laugh. Every muscle shift is a measured choice, impeccably controlled from years of training. Intentionally unnerving.

“An insult?” She questions with false softness, keeping a corner of her lips turned up. Tilting the crown of her head toward the woman, Viper allows her eyes to crawl over Anna’s form. “Come now, dear. Surely you can do better than that?”

generally, her tone would earn her a slap across the face and that was if the person was being generous, which is why she’s taken aback when she’s greeted with an uncharacteristically soft tone. the comment about her space makes the young mutate frown, good to know she was right about the fact that her living arrangements weren’t normal. watching the woman, buttercup furrows her brows when she sees her adjust her stance. now why would you want to do that? she thinks to herself. if she’d been told what would become of her after they got their hands on her, buttercup would have tried harder to fight, to get away. ❛ who-who are you? ❜ the powered girl asks, especially at the comments of abuse, it makes her flinch inherently. ❛ what are you going to do with me? ❜ because she had a feeling that her already non-self controlled life was now in the woman before her’s hands…