Thread: Scarlet Letters -DEAD RP-

RE Scarlet Letters -QuixoticXCandy- If there was a single word in the entire English language that could aptly describe the total encompassing sensation Olivia felt possessing her entire being, it was enchanted. Never before had someone like this stranger completely captivated her wholly, at least no one who was alive. Yet as she stood before him breathlessly admiring his brilliant jade orbs, the young woman had forgotten the purpose of her venture into London's East End. In that same moment, she was awestruck with this stranger and much like the Grimm fairy tales she had adored reading as a youth, she felt as if she had been dropped into her own gothic tale. The particular spell the stranger had weaved without speaking a word felt unbreakable but for the dark haired Ackerman woman, she had no desire to be set free. 'If I'm dreaming,' she thought with a shuttering gasp, '- don't wake me, , having not realized that Mr. Oxenham had risen back up to his feet, his eyes curiously flicking between her and the darkly clad stranger, in puzzled curiosity. It was only when the man in black, with his hypnotic malachite eyes, finally spoke, did Olivia finally slip free from her comatose. If there was such as place as heaven, it could produce not a single sound more glorious than the voice that tumbled out from a pair of lips that ignited with her an unquenchable yearning. He answered her question with one his own, a query she mulled over thoughtfully, it forced her to truly wonder who did indeed determine who was sane and who wasn't? Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos to the fly. The thought had appeared in her mind as if placed there by unseen forces to answer the dark figure.But wasn't there truth in that solitary thought, that sanity and normalcy were entirely relative. Looking back up into the liquid pools of green that already she felt herself drowning again, Olivia felt the unspoken spell tighten around her quivering form. Like a butterfly caught within a spider's silk. While she knew she should follow every natural instinct that told her to run, she desired instead to be devoured entirely body and soul. Reality had long since faded away and in its stead was the lovely gritty black and bloody red daydream she had to hide from the world beneath false pretenses. The same desire to remain within her twisted sweet dream returned as she basked within her own insanity silently, breathlessly drinking in this tall, dark stranger, Darcy forgot for the moment like a bad memory. Just as she had opened her mouth to say more, perhaps to request a name, did he respond, halfheartedly mentioning her companion. Wait, she had a companion? Wide eyes flicked towards the pale male beside her M-My companion? Oh...- She even questioned aloud before her voice held instead disinterest for the man at her side. Sadly, the carmine and onyx daydream she was having began melting away as reality slowly shift back into focus as she realized that any fantasy world that she constructed would most certainly not contain the spoiled, selfish playboy that was Darcy Oxenham. With a reluctant sigh, Olivia smiled back to the stranger and offered a quick Let's hope not in response to the dark clad gentleman's comment about Jack and his killings. In truth, the Ackerman girl wanted nothing more than to hear about another grizzly, disbodied murder in the papers as it meant Jack's work hadn't been concluded. Sadly like most sweet dreams, her's came to an immediate, screeching halt as it was when the dark stranger with his soul searching emerald gaze dipped his hat in parting and excused himself. Already as his body melded into the thick throngs of onlookers could Olivia begin to see beautiful fragments of her dream breaking away and the ugly, gray reality that was her world began to snap into place. However, unlike the bone-chilling fairy tales she had come to love, her particular hex was broken by a rough tug at her elbow that elicited a yelp of surprise as Darcy was not as entertained with the dead woman, the strange man beneath all black or the strange behavior. The sweet crimson dream melted away and reality immediately snapped back into focus like a whip. She was left standing dumbfounded and breathless, her lover's displeased hissing immediately against her ear like a venomous snake in her ear. His hot breath blasted against her chilled flesh like a furnace, instantly drawing sweat to coat her palms. It was evident by his clear distaste for her actions as it practically wafted off of him like a thick, musky perfume that permeated the air, make her stomach churn with disgust. While she knew she had to act a certain way for any man she was with, she would not allow any man, Darcy especially, to treat her like he owned her. There was a fine line between desiring his touch and openly seeing it and his current, reckless course of action. She was owned by no one and she would allow no one treat her as such, Do you think me dumb Mr. Oxenham? She hissed in return, yanking her elbow free violently, taking a step back from him with a look that could only be considered as pure loathing. She is dead and while it's unfortunate, do not think for a moment I believe this atrocity to be a 'performance', as you so kindly suggested! Her voice rising above the low murmur of the gathered crowd. Granted there was more she wished to say however the prospect of being escorted away the pretty painted dead girl, Olivia was not keen on such ideas. The thing that perplexed her most was any knowledge of her family's history it was steeped in death and misery. When the moment passed as it appeared their argument had drawn a small following, eagerly listening to the lover's quarrel, Darcy was the first to concede defeat. Good, because if Darcy wanted to continue access to the best pussy London had to offer, he needed to understand his place was beneath her heel! An entire scenario had played out in her head if he had desired to continue, and while it was an unsatisfactory end, she would've walked away from him without a second thought as he was her plaything. It was only after his pathetic and watered down apology did Olivia's on visage soften. You are forgiven, for now, The words bitter against her tongue as she had half a mind to lay into him again, perhaps just to watch him squirm beneath the gazes of those less fortunate than they. Stepping close to him again, Olivia leaned her temptress body in close to him as she hooked her arm with his, whispering ,You'll have to make it up to me in one way or another. Her wicked tongue deftly coming out to flick against his ear to drive her point. Afterall, Mr.Oxenman did boast but an hour ago that his phallus could 'work wonders'. Perhaps it could work a spell on her headache and twisting guts 'My dearest Darcy, if there is but a single thing that I enjoy, it's the pleasure I can reap from your willing body.' And while the thought of sex encompassed her brain, driving her wild and getting sticky wet, the visage of limitless green orbs continued to return to the forefront of her mind. However, all previous scenes of ravenous fucking left her as he suggested more liquor to quiet their painful hangovers. Olivia's could swear she felt her stomach summersault within her with disgusted at the protest of more liquor she had consumed enough for a time, if Darcy wished to drink himself into a drunken stupor, it would allow her the opportunity to explore the East End and learn more about her favorite serial murderer. She did question if it was wise to seek the very poison that had caused their current discomfort? You believe this to be a wise idea lover? She finally verbalized, the hesitation in her voice, followed by a gentle laugh to soften the blow of getting a drink, you realize that spirits this early will require us to continue to drink them until we are both in a drunk stupor? While I am not opposed to copious amounts of drunken fornication she lowered her voice to a seductive purr, I do like to be sober so I might remember. It seemed that Darcy wasn't interested in her suggestion and instead their conversation shifted to the mysterious man in black who already she could not dislodge his handsome image from out of her mind's eye. Yes, it wasn't a particularly horrible topic to switch to but it was one she didn't she be having with her current man candy. Hm? She feigned her ignorance for but a moment longer before she reached a delicate hand up to tap gently at her lips thoughtfully, His face does not come to memory, I do believe that was our first meeting. She admitted truthfully, failing to omit that she desired that it was not her last. I believe his is just as curious as we are dear. Wondering if he can perhaps stomach the sight of the whore gutted like a fish and laid out like holiday ornaments. With a sly sidelong gaze, Olivia tried to gauge whether her dear, sweet Darcy would break into another fit of violent paroxysms, silently hoping to what more of his suffering. But her joy faded with his last cutting comment. 'Fucking voyeur?' She thought outraged, the taste of coppery blood filling her mouth as she began to gnaw loathingly at her inner cheek. Hadn't they just gone to witness the same thing? Were they not voyeurs for their morbid curiosity? Not only was Darcy slothful but he was also a raving hypocrite that almost caused her to double over and vomit. If you are intent on a drink, then take me away.