(hee, i can roll with it. it's certainly going to be interesting mmhmm. clearly someone doesn't want loki getting all the attention.)
Natasha just stayed where she was and stared down at him. Her arms crossed under her chest and her jaw tight as she studied the hell god quietly. What was it with gods and running their mouths off? Although this one was leaning more towards flirting than just telling her how she might die, or how many sins she'd committed. That was refreshing at least.
A deep breath, and for another few moments she just stood there impassive. She wasn't rising to the bait just yet. She wasn't letting him know if she would be good cop, bad cop, or worse cop. Not until she finally moved to the corner of the room and disconnected the camera.
When she returned she slid into the empty seat across from her 'captive' and arched her eyebrow. "I am the worst cop you could possibly imagine, but why would you want me to make you talk? Why should I do what you want?"
She cocked her head and smiled coyly like she was enjoying a simple dinner conversation. "My guess is you want me to get a little violent because that's your taste. A god and all, well, why wouldn't you like it rough when you know your body can take it. But to have me perhaps yell, get angry, start running off at the mouth then that would give you all sorts of information and turn the tables, wouldn't it?"
[ooc: He does not. Nor do any of them appreciate my grad classes getting so much attention :( But Az especially, he's a princess precious pants in that regard]
When you're a god, why wouldn't you run off at the mouth? It's one of the perks. One that Az particularly enjoyed. It's not his favourite, though. He'd run off at the mouth no matter what he was -- Az is a wordy motherfucker by nature. So no, not that one. Some of the little tricks he can do, the way he can make his powers dance over bare skin, bringing pain and pleasure to the body with a thought; yeah, if pressed, that would probably have to be right up there. At least top three, if not all by its lonesome on the podium. There were, after all, so many things about being Azrael that were awesome that he found it hard to pick a blue-ribbon winner sometimes.
He likes this one, likes her fire, the way it oozes down there deep inside her, hungry and looking for a way to express itself, an avenue to satisfy its need. It's compulsion to rip free and run amok, destroying everything in its path with a manic delight that Az can totally get behind. In the very best of ways she reminds him of himself, and he always likes things that stroke his considerable ego "Why shouldn't you? Especially if it might be the only way you get me to do anything even remotely helpful, like answer any questions you might have or whatever the fuck it is your people summoned me here to do."
A tongue of flame dances over his knuckles, a seething thing that flickers and skitters over his tanned skin; it almost has a sound as it moves, like a lover's pained sigh. "Bad move on that, by the by. Not exactly the best way to get a guy like me in the mood." He grins, his teeth bared in an expression half flirtation and half predator's challenge. "But I'm kinda thinking you had nothing to do with that part of this clusterfuck your people backed themselves into -- did you. No, not you, honey. You got thrown in here after the fact, I'm betting. Called on in from wherever you'd been, cleaning the blood of your kill out from under your manicured fingernails, for a special little assignment. And why not? It's not a bad call, to send in the sexy temptress, all smoldering eyes and pouty lips and perfect curves inside that tight, nasty leather catsuit. Send you in and see what sort of reaction it gets from the mean old hellgod. Maybe the sight of all that soft skin peeking out from under that hot, tight leather might get me agreeable. Maybe they thought that seeing that pretty neck you've got, so elegant and just begging to have my teeth in it -- maybe that's supposed to be enough to throw me off my game."
Az leans forward, his voice a low, sultry croon as he watches her. "The only thing I want to do with any table is bend you over one so you've got something to hold you up while I fuck you." He taps the table in front of him, the gesture almost affectionate. "This one's pretty sturdy, but I still think it'd break before you do. I like that in table. Well." He strokes the table top, sending a tiny tendril of power out to lap against her through the leather, to press it close against her breasts, to have it rub softly against her nipples. "I like it sometimes."
A little violent?" Az laughs, his tongue slipping along the sharp edges of his teeth before he raises a cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. "Baby, you don't have the first idea of just how dark my tastes run."
He raises an eyebrow at her over his dark glasses. "What if I told you the only way you'd get me to talk is if you asked your questions as best you could with my cock buried in your mouth? What would my little interrogator say then? How would Little Miss Worst Cop respond if I told her all the things I was planning on doing to her sweet, tight little body?"
(ooc: LOL, no I won't be able to think of him without it being followed by princess precious pants. Me and mine miss you and yours but the study is important <3)
He really did run off at the mouth. Natasha sat there and listened. Sat there and tried to hold his gaze through his glasses, but she had to admit that staring into sunglasses always did put her off. It was harder to read a person without seeing their eyes. Probably a designed move on his part. Clever.
When she had been told there was a hellgod in holding she'd nearly laughed, but given the existence of Thor who was she to judge. This was just her first dealing with one and right now she was still on the fence as to whether or not she was impressed. Or just wanted to try and smack him around anyway. But he was right, it would be a bad move. No violence. No trying to intimidate him.
Her gaze dropped to watch those flames and now she was starting to feel impressed. It was certainly a nice little trick. She smiled as he did, her eyelashes batting briefly. "You're very perceptive. No, you can trust me when I say I had nothing to do with this other than be the person elected to deal with you. And even then I was considering being far, far away just so they would deal with their own consequences." Natasha rolled her eyes as he continued though and then she leaned forward, moving her head to expose her neck further. "But it isn't throwing you off your game, is it? This delicious, tempting strip of skin doing absolutely nothing to derail that motormouth or your resistance to cooperate."
If his words shocked her she managed not to show it on her features. Natasha just met his gaze once more and waited for him to be done. Though the power he sent to her, to her breasts made it a struggle not to show some sort of reaction. Her lips parted in the smallest of ways, her pupils became blown and dilated and she clenched her thighs under the table. "So your tastes start with wanting to bend me over a table and end... where? How dark is dark?"
Natasha showed him her palms before her smile grew. "Do you really think you're the first to try and tell me all the things you'd like to do to my body during an interrogation? Though I do believe you might be the most creative. And I think you'd be waiting an awfully long time before I agreed to let you put your cock in my mouth. You're charming, but not that charming. You would have had more chance if you'd just left it with bending me over the table. If some of your other ideas are any better though, I'm all ears."
Natasha just stayed where she was and stared down at him. Her arms crossed under her chest and her jaw tight as she studied the hell god quietly. What was it with gods and running their mouths off? Although this one was leaning more towards flirting than just telling her how she might die, or how many sins she'd committed. That was refreshing at least.
A deep breath, and for another few moments she just stood there impassive. She wasn't rising to the bait just yet. She wasn't letting him know if she would be good cop, bad cop, or worse cop. Not until she finally moved to the corner of the room and disconnected the camera.
When she returned she slid into the empty seat across from her 'captive' and arched her eyebrow. "I am the worst cop you could possibly imagine, but why would you want me to make you talk? Why should I do what you want?"
She cocked her head and smiled coyly like she was enjoying a simple dinner conversation. "My guess is you want me to get a little violent because that's your taste. A god and all, well, why wouldn't you like it rough when you know your body can take it. But to have me perhaps yell, get angry, start running off at the mouth then that would give you all sorts of information and turn the tables, wouldn't it?"
Reply
When you're a god, why wouldn't you run off at the mouth? It's one of the perks. One that Az particularly enjoyed. It's not his favourite, though. He'd run off at the mouth no matter what he was -- Az is a wordy motherfucker by nature. So no, not that one. Some of the little tricks he can do, the way he can make his powers dance over bare skin, bringing pain and pleasure to the body with a thought; yeah, if pressed, that would probably have to be right up there. At least top three, if not all by its lonesome on the podium. There were, after all, so many things about being Azrael that were awesome that he found it hard to pick a blue-ribbon winner sometimes.
He likes this one, likes her fire, the way it oozes down there deep inside her, hungry and looking for a way to express itself, an avenue to satisfy its need. It's compulsion to rip free and run amok, destroying everything in its path with a manic delight that Az can totally get behind. In the very best of ways she reminds him of himself, and he always likes things that stroke his considerable ego "Why shouldn't you? Especially if it might be the only way you get me to do anything even remotely helpful, like answer any questions you might have or whatever the fuck it is your people summoned me here to do."
A tongue of flame dances over his knuckles, a seething thing that flickers and skitters over his tanned skin; it almost has a sound as it moves, like a lover's pained sigh. "Bad move on that, by the by. Not exactly the best way to get a guy like me in the mood." He grins, his teeth bared in an expression half flirtation and half predator's challenge. "But I'm kinda thinking you had nothing to do with that part of this clusterfuck your people backed themselves into -- did you. No, not you, honey. You got thrown in here after the fact, I'm betting. Called on in from wherever you'd been, cleaning the blood of your kill out from under your manicured fingernails, for a special little assignment. And why not? It's not a bad call, to send in the sexy temptress, all smoldering eyes and pouty lips and perfect curves inside that tight, nasty leather catsuit. Send you in and see what sort of reaction it gets from the mean old hellgod. Maybe the sight of all that soft skin peeking out from under that hot, tight leather might get me agreeable. Maybe they thought that seeing that pretty neck you've got, so elegant and just begging to have my teeth in it -- maybe that's supposed to be enough to throw me off my game."
Az leans forward, his voice a low, sultry croon as he watches her. "The only thing I want to do with any table is bend you over one so you've got something to hold you up while I fuck you." He taps the table in front of him, the gesture almost affectionate. "This one's pretty sturdy, but I still think it'd break before you do. I like that in table. Well." He strokes the table top, sending a tiny tendril of power out to lap against her through the leather, to press it close against her breasts, to have it rub softly against her nipples. "I like it sometimes."
A little violent?" Az laughs, his tongue slipping along the sharp edges of his teeth before he raises a cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. "Baby, you don't have the first idea of just how dark my tastes run."
He raises an eyebrow at her over his dark glasses. "What if I told you the only way you'd get me to talk is if you asked your questions as best you could with my cock buried in your mouth? What would my little interrogator say then? How would Little Miss Worst Cop respond if I told her all the things I was planning on doing to her sweet, tight little body?"
Reply
He really did run off at the mouth. Natasha sat there and listened. Sat there and tried to hold his gaze through his glasses, but she had to admit that staring into sunglasses always did put her off. It was harder to read a person without seeing their eyes. Probably a designed move on his part. Clever.
When she had been told there was a hellgod in holding she'd nearly laughed, but given the existence of Thor who was she to judge. This was just her first dealing with one and right now she was still on the fence as to whether or not she was impressed. Or just wanted to try and smack him around anyway. But he was right, it would be a bad move. No violence. No trying to intimidate him.
Her gaze dropped to watch those flames and now she was starting to feel impressed. It was certainly a nice little trick. She smiled as he did, her eyelashes batting briefly. "You're very perceptive. No, you can trust me when I say I had nothing to do with this other than be the person elected to deal with you. And even then I was considering being far, far away just so they would deal with their own consequences." Natasha rolled her eyes as he continued though and then she leaned forward, moving her head to expose her neck further. "But it isn't throwing you off your game, is it? This delicious, tempting strip of skin doing absolutely nothing to derail that motormouth or your resistance to cooperate."
If his words shocked her she managed not to show it on her features. Natasha just met his gaze once more and waited for him to be done. Though the power he sent to her, to her breasts made it a struggle not to show some sort of reaction. Her lips parted in the smallest of ways, her pupils became blown and dilated and she clenched her thighs under the table. "So your tastes start with wanting to bend me over a table and end... where? How dark is dark?"
Natasha showed him her palms before her smile grew. "Do you really think you're the first to try and tell me all the things you'd like to do to my body during an interrogation? Though I do believe you might be the most creative. And I think you'd be waiting an awfully long time before I agreed to let you put your cock in my mouth. You're charming, but not that charming. You would have had more chance if you'd just left it with bending me over the table. If some of your other ideas are any better though, I'm all ears."
Reply
Leave a comment