Thread: The Emerald Estate (GrinningGentleman x Poppy)

That laughter. It did something in Martin, he hadn't expected. Usually, when his Uncle was brought up, he saw red. But the laughter he was hearing, past the wild ringing in his ears, was actually causing him to grin slightly, past his otherwise unbroken cold expression. The manic lack of situational awareness was astounding, and quite distasteful to a man like Erick, who shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes. But Martin loved it. Vivian was fucking crazy, and it wasn't just the coke, that she'd use as an excuse later. Maybe without the coke, she'd be a bit more tactical about her predicament, which wouldn't change much. She'd probably still've been laughing. Suggesting her expectations about him, caused him to snicker slightly a single time, having dropped his cold exterior far earlier than he usually would've. Erick grunted lightly, narrowing his eyes. Maybe not as extinguished as the old fuck, but far more extinguished than the aimless, spoiled whore who's visiting his office. Erick murmured, possibly loud enough for Vivian to hear it through the ringing of her ears, being a bit less severe than Martin's. He, certainly didn't hear it, and instead continued to listen to Vivian. His grin seemed to persist, his cold exterior having faltered completely. She was causing him to have fun, even through the memory of his Uncle. And even though he'd be reminded of that dark chapter of his past, it didn't fill his mind as usual. He'd drunk himself half to death before, being reminded of him. But not this time. Vivian was far too much of a distraction. A good one, at that. Martin bit down on his lips, as he moved slightly where he stood, contemplating, before stretching his neck, popping a few joins with a crack. Speaking of things you like. Think we've made it perfectly clear, that you're either completely fucking blank off of drugs, don't give a shit about your life or you love the abuse.. So.. He stated shortly, before tossing his Magnum over to the chair he sat in before, landing comfortably in the soft cushions. He quickly moved his right hand back up from the table, grabbing on to the chain, still pushing Vivian's body against the table, making sure she couldn't push off of it. He pulled the chain towards Erick, creating counter momentum to what he next did, choking her a bit in the process. His left hand grabbed the neck of her fur coat, starting to violently pull down. The more she resisted, the more she'd be pulled at the chain, and got choked. And if she wen't even further with her resistance, the fabric would start tearing on the coat, his muscles not giving in, before the sleeves of the coat was ripped off completely, if she let it get that far. The second after the coat was off, Martin placed a flat hand on her back, pushing her hard down against the table, as his eyes observed her arms, head tilting slightly. His fiery green eyes slowly dragged towards her knife, as a sadistic grin curled it's way over his lips. With quick motions, Martin grabbed Vivian's left arm's wrist, slamming it down on the table, while also reaching for the knife with his right hand. His left hand made sure he palm was down against the table, before his right hand thrust the knife down with all of his strength. The knife tore easily through flesh and muscle, scraping the bone of Vivian's middle finger, landing between that and the bone of her index finger. The knife didn't stop there, though, boring it's way into the table as well, deep enough that a lot of strength was necessary to pull it up. Vivian might be able to, using her unhurt hand, but Martin's right hand was quick to grab that as well, yank it behind her back, and into a painful lock. There.. Never been put to better use before. Killing is so simple. Quick. Let guns take care of that. Knife is more delicate, and with so many uses. Maiming. Mutilating. Pinning a pretty little whore to a desk. Martin whispered with a dark laugh, as he placed his left hand on Vivian's side, a few fingers slowly stroking down her skin from just bellow her arm pit, over her fabric of her shirt, and down to her hips. There, he grabbed her skin firmly, feeling her warm skin under his firm, strong grip. His right hand kept it's fingers locked tightly around Vivian's right wrist, pressing it upwards a bit more in it's arm lock, making it a bit more painful. So soft. So fragile. That, is what you really are. Why do you even pretend, that you're anything else? You're nothing without your father's name, guns and reputation... Martin challenged, now being the one fishing for her reactions. He'd started ignoring anything else Vivian said. Her bravado wasn't going to work anymore. But in all of this, his legs had gotten more stationary, no longer as vivid in avoiding her pointy heels.