Kneel or D I E.

        Her initial reaction is to protest, why         should she go with him? However,         once she realizes how serious his         gaze was she glanced at the man         next to her with a short shake. Surely         that would be addressed later. 

        He tugged her, roughly, but not as         if to harm- and by now she knows         the difference. Once he’d gotten         her to the entrance, she ripped         the arm from his grasp with a hazy         glare,

                 “what do you want?”

His eyes widen just the slightest bit -- even caught so off-guard, he was still unconsciously controlling his reactions. Don’t show a thing, he’d always told her.

menaciiing 

            “W- What?”

There’s a moment of stiff silence where he just stands there, tense and livid. His rage rolls off his frame in waves, accented by the arcs of electricity dancing along his shoulders and arms. When he speaks it’s low and almost inaudible, as if there’s a very tense restraint keeping him from screaming.

“Get up. We’re leaving. NOW.”

The man next to Keanna attempts to stand as he grabs her arm, but the ganglord shoots a glare his way and he freezes. The man’s eyes were orange...

The man that, with a mere snap of his fingers, could easily snuff his life out like a dying candle. 

The man’s glass is refilled and then it’s brought to his lips once more, the silence becoming near unbearable as he takes a sip, swirls it, seems to consider the gangster’s offer.

And what a ridiculous offer it is. He knows it, which is why he has dreaded to even approach, but he was only a messenger. Surely the ganglord wouldn’t kill him...right?

The glass is set down once again and the blond leans back in his seat, expression amused.

“Surely your employer values our alliance more than this...? I’d hate to think he made such an offer to insult me...then I’d have to retaliate. Of course, I expected nothing less. The man’s a brute, not a brain cell in sight for all the brawling he does. What a waste.”

He stands, and near instantly the gangster across the desk stands in response. The blond man watches him for a moment, seeming curious. 

“Such a loyal man...going to deliver such a message when he knows the likely result. If you weren’t so s p i n e l e s s, I might have offered you a place in our ranks...”

Just as the gangster had ironically thought before, the blond raises a hand and snaps his fingers. That’s all it takes, and there’s a flash, a loud pop, and silence...Broken only by the gangster’s form collapsing to the floor.

Glancing to the girl who’d stood behind him throughout the whole meeting to refill his glass, he quirked his lips into a light parody of reassurance.

“Clean that up, if you’d please? But, leave the body. Let Freed know to meet me in here when you’re done.”

The door opens and two sets of eyes are on it, one frightened and the other annoyed. 

other people: i can’t RP villains :(( being mean is so hard omg :(

me:

Send me a ♡ if you find my muse attractive. Send me a ♥ if your muse finds my muse attractive

Send me a ♡ if you find my muse attractive. Send me a ♥ if your muse finds my muse attractive

“Mmhmm…Well, whatever it is that’s got you so sour is no business of mine.  Just holler if ya need anything else,” she said, turning to handle some other customers.

“Sorry, sweetie.  Imma have to cut you off.”  She was addressing another customer who had drank his fair share.  He tried to protest, reaching for the bottle she had set behind the bar.  In a flash, a knife appeared between his fingers.  “Dollface, you’ve had enough.  Now go with your friends.  And if you ever creep so much as an eyelash behind my bar, I won’t take the liberty of missin’ again.”

Eyebrows perked with mild interest, he watched the exchange, taking note of the knife embedded in the counter. After a moment he stood, and -- as before -- the mere presence of him silenced the conversations in the surrounding area.

“...She told you you’ve had enough, and she makes the rules when she’s behind that counter. Scram.”

♢ - “Is that so? I would hope that you have little pawns worthy of wasting me. It would be simply insulting if you sent  r o a c h e s  for me.” The dark mage responded. It wasn’t that she assumed he cared what offended her. But Mary did like reminding people of the power she held - although if the infamous mafia lord was talking to her himself, she probably didn’t need to enunciate it.

Eyes narrowed curiously at his following statement, and she crossed her arms over her chest, giving a slight tilt of her head.

“Follow you? What on earthland would I gain from that? Just for giggles, I insist - give me one good reason.” The petite woman insisted, now somewhat intrigued. 

“In what I have under my command? Roaches would be too good for you. But you have other uses than just brute force, isn’t that right?”

He thought over his answer to her next question, choosing his words carefully.

What, exactly, would this mage want?

“Cool your jets, hon,” she said, unfazed, “I was tryna figure what kinda hard liquor would be good for ya.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but seems like business deal gone wrong?  I recommend a bourbon on the rocks, shot of whiskey on the side.”  She smoothly poured the bourbon and setting it in front of him.  Spinning the whiskey bottle on her palm, she poured him a shot.  “Now, my only question is, was this deal bad enough that I should leave the bottle?”

His glance stayed on her this time, as if surveying her for something. Apparently unimpressed, he merely picked up the glass of bourbon.

♢ - The sickeningly innocent smile she usually had painted over her lips didn’t even twitch through his response. She only quirked an eyebrow, amused.

“Fair enough. I’ll keep that in mind when I remember you failing to kill me.~”

“Don’t misunderstand me -- it wouldn’t be me killing you. Not directly; I’ve got no need to use my strength when another’s would suffice just as well and with less collateral damage.” 

The smile was returned, although less sweet and innocent and more patronizing and almost predatory. He enjoyed someone who actually stood up to his threats -- it was always a delicate game; gauging reactions and choosing just the right words. 

“Unless, of course, you’d be willing to follow.”