(no subject)
[Who:] Gaheris Rhade and Bellatrix Lestrange AKA Lust meets Lust
[What:] A Nietzchean and a Wizard try to share crucial information at an inopportune time
[When:] Sometime after this but before he finds out about Jack and Doppelganger
[Where:] Somewhere quiet and private in the Mall
[Warnings:] This is going to go to bad potentially kinky places. Hence the member lock. Also I might have went out of my way to make sure every letter of the alphabet was included in this header.
With the role of leadership suddenly thrust upon him, Rhade couldn't help but feel a little trepidation at the fates of the previous leaders. He didn't know what happened to Sarah that she wasn't resurrected after her infection. Why the Militant side wasn't given victory when all of the original members of the side had vanished outside of Amanda (and he'd lost track of her, probably quite purposefully on her part).
But he needed to survive. He had a people to defend. Children to give a bright future free of Magog and the weakness of the Commonwealth. Three lovely wives that were at home, in need of his company.
...Oh, those wives.
He paced the floor of one of the storage room in the now empty department store, waiting for Bellatrix to arrive and knowing the piles of cloth around them would muffle the sound of conversation. Despite the room being generally wide and cool, the thought of his wives, of contact in general, was making him increasingly warm. The caress of his cheek, the feel of thin, strong fingers kneading his chest with the eagerness of a content feline as-
He unzipped the collar of the motorcycle leathers he was wearing (cut short at the arms to just overlap the ends of his arm-wraps that protected his boneblades) and shut his eyes, trying to concentrate again. He was far from home, in a strange, unfamiliar mall. Bad breeding surroundings. No interested women readily available. Tactics had to take priority. He could very well be in danger now that he was the superior officer, and there was no reason for his mind to be slipping into such questionable content as the salty tinted taste of sweat from an inner thigh as he was about to-
Rhade frantically scrubbed his hands over his face, as if that would shove the thoughts out of his head.
[What:] A Nietzchean and a Wizard try to share crucial information at an inopportune time
[When:] Sometime after this but before he finds out about Jack and Doppelganger
[Where:] Somewhere quiet and private in the Mall
[Warnings:] This is going to go to bad potentially kinky places. Hence the member lock. Also I might have went out of my way to make sure every letter of the alphabet was included in this header.
With the role of leadership suddenly thrust upon him, Rhade couldn't help but feel a little trepidation at the fates of the previous leaders. He didn't know what happened to Sarah that she wasn't resurrected after her infection. Why the Militant side wasn't given victory when all of the original members of the side had vanished outside of Amanda (and he'd lost track of her, probably quite purposefully on her part).
But he needed to survive. He had a people to defend. Children to give a bright future free of Magog and the weakness of the Commonwealth. Three lovely wives that were at home, in need of his company.
...Oh, those wives.
He paced the floor of one of the storage room in the now empty department store, waiting for Bellatrix to arrive and knowing the piles of cloth around them would muffle the sound of conversation. Despite the room being generally wide and cool, the thought of his wives, of contact in general, was making him increasingly warm. The caress of his cheek, the feel of thin, strong fingers kneading his chest with the eagerness of a content feline as-
He unzipped the collar of the motorcycle leathers he was wearing (cut short at the arms to just overlap the ends of his arm-wraps that protected his boneblades) and shut his eyes, trying to concentrate again. He was far from home, in a strange, unfamiliar mall. Bad breeding surroundings. No interested women readily available. Tactics had to take priority. He could very well be in danger now that he was the superior officer, and there was no reason for his mind to be slipping into such questionable content as the salty tinted taste of sweat from an inner thigh as he was about to-
Rhade frantically scrubbed his hands over his face, as if that would shove the thoughts out of his head.