Jezebella
Jul 31st, 2005, 07:13:00 PM
Earlier that night
____
In a state of elevated pleasure. Drunk, lost. Somewhere in between the two. She felt like a giggly school girl that wanted to rip someone's head off, which was definately a weird feeling. But something else told the boys to stay away tonight. Perhaps the look in her eye that said she would tear something apart unless it was some form of liquid death. Not that she could taste it anymore, anyway. Her tongue, as well as her mind had become blissfully numb after a long nights work. Work? Okay, a long night's attempt at living without doing something that would hinder someone's high spirits.
She had to get out. The smoke, men, and drinks of the establishment were beginning to make her gag.
So, hefting herself from her bar stool, which tilted slightly more to the left than she prefered, she swung around and ambled out of the bar.
Outside, to her dismay, it had begun to rain and she would be far too lucky if the gutter followed all the way back to her current 'home'. She hummed, an annoyed sound that would seem surprisingly cheerful to anyone who didn't look beyond her intense eyes. Shuffling through the pockets on her ripped pants, she pulled out a pack of cloves and took the last stem from the package. Setting the empty pack on the window sill behind her, she moved forward into the rain, still rummaging through her pockets for the lighter she forgot to bring.
She reached a park that lay in the center of the small town, gazing longing at a bench that seemed to move farther away with each step she took. Then, someone placed a hand on her shoulder. A wavering flame was brought around to her semi-soaked clove cigarette, which she leaned into, lighting it. Turning slightly, she gazed at the hungry pack of men that had followed her and smiled.
"You boys looking for some fun or just a fight?" She asked, taking a drag then exhaling the smoke into the air. They grinned, she nodded and removed her coat.
____
Presently
A whole lot of broken bones and bloody faces later.
Jezebella plopped down on the bench and boredly ran her fingers down a curled strand of her soaked hair, adding to the transparent arrangement of her once white shirt. The stem slipped from her mouth and slowly, she tilted her head back into the rain, not minding the stinging droplets that pelted her skin. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, lapping at the blood that wouldn't stop relentlessly pouring from her lips. She allowed more hits than necessary. Lucky for them, she was in a good mood.
____
In a state of elevated pleasure. Drunk, lost. Somewhere in between the two. She felt like a giggly school girl that wanted to rip someone's head off, which was definately a weird feeling. But something else told the boys to stay away tonight. Perhaps the look in her eye that said she would tear something apart unless it was some form of liquid death. Not that she could taste it anymore, anyway. Her tongue, as well as her mind had become blissfully numb after a long nights work. Work? Okay, a long night's attempt at living without doing something that would hinder someone's high spirits.
She had to get out. The smoke, men, and drinks of the establishment were beginning to make her gag.
So, hefting herself from her bar stool, which tilted slightly more to the left than she prefered, she swung around and ambled out of the bar.
Outside, to her dismay, it had begun to rain and she would be far too lucky if the gutter followed all the way back to her current 'home'. She hummed, an annoyed sound that would seem surprisingly cheerful to anyone who didn't look beyond her intense eyes. Shuffling through the pockets on her ripped pants, she pulled out a pack of cloves and took the last stem from the package. Setting the empty pack on the window sill behind her, she moved forward into the rain, still rummaging through her pockets for the lighter she forgot to bring.
She reached a park that lay in the center of the small town, gazing longing at a bench that seemed to move farther away with each step she took. Then, someone placed a hand on her shoulder. A wavering flame was brought around to her semi-soaked clove cigarette, which she leaned into, lighting it. Turning slightly, she gazed at the hungry pack of men that had followed her and smiled.
"You boys looking for some fun or just a fight?" She asked, taking a drag then exhaling the smoke into the air. They grinned, she nodded and removed her coat.
____
Presently
A whole lot of broken bones and bloody faces later.
Jezebella plopped down on the bench and boredly ran her fingers down a curled strand of her soaked hair, adding to the transparent arrangement of her once white shirt. The stem slipped from her mouth and slowly, she tilted her head back into the rain, not minding the stinging droplets that pelted her skin. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, lapping at the blood that wouldn't stop relentlessly pouring from her lips. She allowed more hits than necessary. Lucky for them, she was in a good mood.