#txllymarked

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There were several things you could mention as notable about the room, if you were watching from outside, removed from the happenings. The music that floated from the record player, the books that covered the coffee table, the sword over the fireplace, and the dancers, the scarred man and the fiery-haired woman that turned in slow circles to the melody.

And the knife, of course, there was the matter of that.

The one held to the woman’s throat, a feather-light kiss, the blade gently grazing skin as they moved, the shine of the metal only matched by Victor’s black eyes, amused as they were. His voice is surprisingly soft as he leans in to whisper in her ear, too close, as always, far too close.

“You’ve surprised me, zombie. I never saw you as a dancer. But...” His next words are more breath then sound, and the blade’s pressure becomes firmer, just slightly. “That might not be enough to keep you alive. Have you any more secrets to keep my interest, bookkeeper?”

If she wasn’t fearing for her life she might have thought this was slightly romantic. Even with the knife gently touching her neck, she couldn’t deny that she was a little turned on by the situation.

Her grip on his shoulder and waist tightened a little as he breathed the words into her ear. She’s trying to keep from showing that she might actually like this.

@txllymarked

Roman watched with intent. Just raising one finger caused the both of them to squirm, Zsas always excited to get his hands dirty. And the victim.. just prolonging their torture. That was what he wanted. Roman did always enjoy watching.

Footsteps echoed through the warehouse as Roman took two long strides forward. A gloved hand reached up and gripped the messy locks of the victim. Roman watched the hope fill in their eyes, the hope that maybe he would let them go. The crime lord sat with that a moment. Giving them the hope they wanted. Before watching it slip away quickly as Roman took a step back.

shop  closed  ,  the last customer gone; a particularly pleasant older woman who wanted to surprise her daughter. All closing duties taken care of, though they’d taken a little longer than usual           and as such, left a little later than usual.

        in  another  city  ,  that  wouldn’t  mean  too  much;  maybe it’d be a little darker, patrons in restaurants would be finishing their dinners. BUT  FOR  SOMEONE  IN  GOTHAM  CITY  , and especially for someone like Jack; who had an awful lot of rumours attached to his person,        it meant hypervigilance. it meant being paranoid of every little noise, of every single shadow; it meant constantly looking over his shoulder for fear that there was somebody there.  it  meant  never  getting  too  comfortable  . 

so,       of course the florist had noticed his presence almost immediately. after all,       Zsasz was an incredibly hard man to miss.  OH  ,  HOW  NERVOUS  HIS  PRESENCE  MADE  HIM  .  he was sure that it showed,       even if he was,  (  quite  deliberately  )  ,  ignoring him in the hope that he was just passing through: and wasn’t there for him. 

                          cowardly man he was, didn’t enjoy confrontation.

@txllymarked | “ unexpected guest “   ( you know he would- )

She's had enough. Seeing him in her bed, asleep, has finally given her the push she needs. Sword drawn, she stands at the ready.

Heels click on the floor of the maximum security wing. The warden is making her way to the cell of one of their more permanent residents. The guards straighten up as she approaches and she flashes her badge. They buzz her in, she doesn’t even stop her stride.

As she travels deeper into the wing, a little bubble of anxiety grows. He hasn’t tried to escape for months, hasn’t even really tried to kill anyone. It...worries her somehow. But then again, any change in his behavior is cause for suspicion.

Stepping up to the cell, she meets the cold black eyes of Victor Zsasz.

"You're wasting my time."

Fingers played absently at a button upon his shirt before she pulled from him. He’d helped her when she had been in a bind, but somehow they always seemed to cross paths more and more. While Lucy wasn’t one to take advantage of situations in living life, she had learned to do such a thing when her life was bound to the night, to blood. He could help her learn to live in the dark hearted streets of Gotham, somewhere far away from the Count’s reach.