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Johnny Cage, you are so very bootylicious.
"Damn skippy I am and don't forget it." He poses and makes damn sure that fine, edible ass is flexed and prominent. He is absolutely wearing CAGE booty shorts. Cassie is probably horrified.
// @heamatic
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Johnny Cage, was anyone brave enough to bring their girlfriend around you in high school? #MrStealYaGirl 👀
"Brave enough? Sure. Smart? Not even a little." He laughs, preening, giving that million dollar grin of his. He's a good actor and always has been. Sometimes, acting isn't the right course, however, not the healthy one, anyway. It keeps one safe, sometimes, but the problem arises when one begins to believe the act. It's taken him years to realize that, years to shed the fetters of the image he'd built for himself—the one that was built FOR him.
"They've ah... stopped comin' around. Guess they finally learned."
Johnny Cage on a scale from 1-10, how wild were you back in your early Hollywood days?
"Oh, baby, I don't think your scale is calibrated for that."
Strangely enough, Johnny Cage's tone does not convey pride. It does not convey shame, either. In fact, he sounds somewhat melancholy, as if there is a measure of nostalgia among a pile of regret.
Johnny, could you please set the record straight on two things? Were you married once before Sonya and do you have a sister somewhere?
“I’m an only child, thank god,” Johnny responds, tossing his hand around, as if he cannot imagine his parents giving life to another child they could torture throughout a fucked up semblance of a childhood. “If you met my folks, you’d get it, y’know?”
Johnny Cage used to be in the camp of “don’t talk shit about your family outside your family”, but he’s since learned that family can often be the friends you choose and much of the time, that bond is stronger than blood.
“Not sure where you heard that other one, either.” This prompts a raised eyebrow. “You know what bad news it is in Hollywood for a sex symbol to get married? That was a no-go even when I did it.” And he’d only done it because Sonya had come to him with a secret, a BIG secret. It’s not one he regrets and he is of the opinion that his late ex-wife never did. She simply had not been mother material.
But he’d been a dad. He’d stepped up. Cassie is an amazing woman and Johnny counts himself lucky to be her dad—ever damn day of his life.
“Sonya was my first—my only…” He laughs humorlessly through his nose. “It didn’t last, but she… we changed each other, I think.”
Legacy Johnny: ⛓ Liu wearing something other than that shit hot topic hoodie
scale: not today satan | fuck no | no thanks | eeeh | not sure | I’d give it a shot | sure why not | omfg yes | there go my pants| holy fuck take me now
send my muse a kink
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johnny best line you've ever delivered
"Wasn't even in a film," he says by way of response. "Totally ad-libbed that shit, but that's why they pay me the big bucks, innit?"
Crossing his arms and nodding, he seems very proud of himself, lost in the memory of it. "Yeah, it was... fuckin' great." He tilted his head as if viewing in on a screen hovering somewhere in the middle distance.
"There I was, facing off against this big asshole with four arms and a bad hairdo... Me? I'm lookin' good...like all things considered, for a guy who's been a couple days at the freakiest resort ever, like, picture some kinda BDSM getaway when you're NOT down with that shit.
"Not saying I'm not, but if you weren't and—well you get the idea. Anyway, so I take my shades off... gunna give this dude some respect 'cause I watched him straight KILL a man.
"And what's he do? He takes those babies outta my damn hand and CRUSHES THEM! Like, bare-handed CRRRGGHHH, smash. Drops 'em like they're nothing. So what do I say to him? You GOTTA know this one:
"'Those were five hundred dollar sunglasses, asshole' and then I drop into the quickest splits you've ever seen and WHAM!" Johnny mimes punching someone in ye olde cajones. "Gotta say, though," he admits after a moment, cradling his imaginarily bruised fist, "I was NOT expecting the whole... y'know package to be rock solid. I mean I'm good lookin', don't get me wrong, but damn, dude... save some for the ladies or... whatever you're into."
Johnny Cage, would you ever play the bad guy in a movie?
"If you'd asked me that twenty years ago, I'd've said no, not a chance," he answers honestly, grinning, "but now..." Pursing his lips, he considers it. "Y'know it might be fun. I've had a bit of experience watchin' it up close--mix a little Shao Kahn brute force with some Shang Tsung snakey sorcery? I think I'd be pretty good at it, if I do say so myself."
There's a curse, muttered low and beneath breath, before calloused fingertips lay claim to Johnny Cage's cheeks with a firm grip. Said grip was used to bodily haul him downward to meet lips that were surprisingly soft, though the way they kissed was anything but. It was take-no-prisoners hard, quickly growing deep thanks to how their tongue fought its way into his mouth--and when it ended? It was with a strangled gasp on their end, the sound feminine in nature.
Johnny could never tell if he offended her or got her engines revving, so to speak. Sometimes it was a combination and he honestly wans't complaining. She was a hard woman to read, Sonya Blade, and that, Johnny assumed, was by design, but when she saw something she wanted, she could always be counted on to go for it and right now it was him, praise god or whomever the fuck was up there, it was him. He responded by folding into the gesture, melting, becoming soft, like putty. She could do with him whatever made her happy. He'd be okay with that.
"You ah... wanna try that again?"
kiss my muse on anon
