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Post by Vespyr on Feb 19, 2013 17:44:30 GMT -8
Cain shrugged. "Not really."
With one hand on the wheel and the other's elbow resting casually on the sill of the window, Cain let the truck cruise itself for the most part as he kept a keen eye on the girl eying him. Anytime their eyes would meet, though, Cain flicked his sly gaze forward again and pretended (facetiously) that he wasn't looking. After a little while, though, if she hadn't said anything, the man would cock his head toward her with a taunting look about him.
"So, Miss Righteous, why so eager to get yer hands bloody?"
[/color] he asked, in a mock accusing tone. He wasn't aiming to get her mad again, but he juuust couldn't resist making a jab at what seemed like a little bit of a moral blindspot. [/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 18:28:57 GMT -8
Delilah's hands stopped working at her hair and her brows lifted at his little taunt, though the smile remained. Part of her bristled at this minor accusation; the fact that he said it so lightly irked her deeply and reminded her that she was angry with everything. Fortunately, that other, more level headed part was usually more than enough to keep the former at bay. She laughed lightly, shrugging as her hands resumed their work.
"Am I righteous? Funny. I have a set of guiding principles that I abide by, for sure. I've been to prison, hit up an asylum, damn near killed my own mother, killed an old friend in cold blood, had a kid out of wedlock, been slashed, stabbed, burned, and, I've been raped."
Her eyes were level with his as she paused here just to look at him. She blinked, slowly. Calm, collected. Not ashamed or looking for sympathy (least of all from him). She just empathized greatly with those that had crossed paths with him.
Resuming a moment later and the words just kept pouring, "I'm also kind of an angry person. A...friend of mine died a few weeks ago and another was seriously injured because I couldn't help them. I haven't seen hide nor hair of my son's father since then, either; missions they tell me. I need an outlet, or I hurt people I care about, but I can't just kill anybody, don'tcha know. So, yeah, I'm a little righteous," she grinned, laughing inwardly at herself. "A storm-cloud of knives and broken glass. With a sense of direction."
She had no idea why she was confiding this in him, but it seemed like she should give him some sort of explanation. Hell, it was good to hear for herself. Reinforced her thought process. With a small sigh, she leaned forward again, pulling up the hair against the back of her head and clipping it back in place. "We all have our flaws. Mine is getting angry and hitting people."
It didn't need to be complicated.
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 19, 2013 18:56:49 GMT -8
Cain found himself raising his brow a little in surprise as the girl expounded her life story to him, in rather intimate detail. His head was turned forward again with his eyes on the road but his mind was elsewhere, just taking it all in. He even found himself smiling a bit earnestly by the time she was finished; not at her expense, but in an odd way, almost rooting for her.
"An' despite all that you'd still be wastin' your time with me. Grin and bear it. I like that" he commented, shaking his head a little. He wasn't at all surprised that the woman was as tenacious as her harsh life has made her out to be. Women weren't all flowers and fucking sunshine after all, and Cain hardly wanted anything to do with the ones who were. Girls like Delilah were justso much more interesting. If he were inclined to be a bit of a sap he'd even say her story hit a little close to home.
But Cain wasn't really the type to empathize, even for someone he had so much in common with. He would have been satisfied leaving the subject alone completely if only it weren't just himself she'd reminded him of. His brow furrowed for a moment, amused... It was uncanny.
"So, single mom, huh?"
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 19:22:06 GMT -8
The corner of her lips twisted and she inclined her head slightly, swiveling her blue eyes back to study him. "Mmhmm, more or less. Best kid in the world. Intelligent, thoughtful, friendly and rambunctious as hell. He makes all of...that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if to indicate what she had just talked about. "--worth it all. If it means he can have a better life than what we've got, I'll do whatever it takes."
She lapsed into silence for a moment as she thought on this, her steady gaze still trained on Cain. Whatever it took. All for her son...for "Unfettered", for Crows, for Dragons, for Gods, for...for all the people who deserved better. Like Oliver.
She let the thoughts slip through her fingers like grains of sand before one caught her attention. She had been talking too much about herself anyway.
"What's the story behind that tattoo on the back of your head?" she asked with a hint of bemusement in her voice. "Scare tactic?" Just a guess, but a poor one.
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 19, 2013 19:55:50 GMT -8
There would be a moment of silent pause, perhaps pensive, following Delilah's question. A tight-lipped smile seemed to replace whatever was there beforehand on Cain's face as he kept his sharp eyes on the road.
"Yeah, actually." was the answer. Vague. No commentary, no further explanation.
..?
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 20:07:47 GMT -8
The pause was interesting, his response more so. A slow grin spread across her face and she she slid across the seat over to him, leaning in close as she tilted her head to the side, her thigh brushing lightly against his.
"Uh-huuuuuh~?"
Prompting, blatantly curious. Even batting her lashes at him twice for the hell of it.
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 19, 2013 20:28:54 GMT -8
Cain swiveled an eye to peer at the girl as she slid over to him, though he kept his head turned forward toward the road and returned his stare to it a moment later.
Ahahahaha god bless this car not havin' bucket seats.
"Well."
[/color] he began, in a tone that wasn't quite eager, but not really reluctant either. He spoke rather matter-o-factly as he explained. "Havin' been to prison and all you oughta know the first lesson ya learn is to always be watchin' your back. So I got me a warning sign."[/color] He turned toward the girl who was sidled up close to him, leaning, leering at her with an almost threatening, toothy grin.. "I got eyes on the back of my head." he almost hissed. He reached over to give her a light pinch on the cheek. Then he chuckled darkly. And he leaned back away from her, keeping his devious eyes to the darkening street. The dusk would be getting heavier, making it difficult to see without headlights which Cain kept off for the sake of staying as inconspicuous as possible until they were off Barker's turf, which they nearly were. [/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 21:01:25 GMT -8
"Havin' been to prison and all you oughta know the first lesson ya learn is to always be watchin' your back. So I got me a warning sign." [/color][/blockquote] Delilah grimaced at the thought. Did she ever. The moment she let her guard down was when her inmates got her. She vowed never to let it happen again. She let the rather disappointing thought pass quickly, moving onto the fact that it was a prison tat. It figured. Oh, now wasn't that just a bit of terrific? She let him lean forward, returning his leer with a smouldering stare, holding her ground this time. I ain't scared of you, Big Bad Wolf."I got eyes on the back of my head." She snapped at his fingers with her teeth as he pinched her cheek, leaning back and away from him as he turned back to the road. Looking out at the road, she realized that it must be darker now, though she could see just fine. Delilah reached up to her earring, pulled it out and slipped it into his plug, letting it dangle there. He should be able to see the road just fine now. She faced forward, looking at the darkness with eyes that hadn't truly seen it in a while. It was weird. "What were you in for?"[/size] |
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 19, 2013 21:35:01 GMT -8
"The fuck,"
[/color] Cain muttered as he was suddenly able to see the road just fine. He didn't touch the earring, though, because driving just got a whole lot easier. His hand moved back to the wheel and he continued on, nearing the border to "safe". "I had this teacher back in high school who was a real asshole. He fuckin' hated my guts and I hated his and he finally tipped me off one day, and that was that. I fucked him up pretty bad. Got sent to juvy. After that's when I got the eye."[/color] he explained, pretty nonchalant about it. "Next time a couple'a years later was 'cause of a bar fight I started. And ended."[/color] The man chuckled to himself, almost as if he were reminiscing on the experience. Prison had been a breeze for him, after all, though boring as hell and dryer than a Mormon's liquor cabinet. Thankfully Gunner had got him out before too long, or he might have lost his mind. "How 'bout yerself?"[/color] [/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 19, 2013 22:00:34 GMT -8
She listened to his story with great interest, nodding and smiling brightly. Sounds like someone should have went to two-five-nine. It may have gone differently for him if he had. The bar fight bit spoke a fair bit about his character. She wondered about the specific details, and instead, just chuckled as he mentioned he won the fight. Or so to speak.
"How 'bout yerself?"
She let out a low whistle at the question, though she had expected it. She rubbed her hands together, as if warming up. "I'll give you the short version. I was helping out the gang I was in at the time--Militia-- back in San Francisco move some of our members back down the coast here to Long Beach. I got nabbed, and tried for...oh jeez, what was the list? Breaking and entering, smuggling, vandalization and destruction of government property --I accidentally destroyed part of the marina there--, possession of illegal substances, for black mail purposes--though they didn't know that...and human trafficking. I plead guilty, and off I was shipped."
She chuckled to herself. Most of those charges wouldn't have stuck if she fought them, but she couldn't let them investigate Militia to dig up evidence. It was better that she just took one for the team.
"Not bad for seventeen,"
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 20, 2013 0:42:31 GMT -8
"Hell, girl, you make seventeen-year-old me look like a punk-ass little bitch!" Cain cackled, while knowing for the most part that it was true. But who didn't enjoy laughing at their younger self's expense?
"CAIN PERRISH, YOUR MOTHER'S SUCH A WHORE THAT FOR ALL ANYBODY KNOWS I COULD BE YOUR FUCKING FATHER SO YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU PUNK-ASS BASTARD SONOFABITCH."
Seventeen-year-old punk-ass little bitch Cain ripped off his gym shirt and throttled the man with it. And then some. [/right] "Hehehe…"The truck slowed, as they would now be passing through the designated 'neutral zone'. Cain peered out the windows, looking for trouble… or for an opportunity to be the trouble he wanted to see. [/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 20, 2013 0:57:48 GMT -8
Delilah tried to peer through the windows and into the darkness as they drove. Here and there were little pin-pricks of the light cast off from trashcan fires. She thought she could see the movement of shapes--people, she assumed in the glow of the light. Cain might be able to see more with the earring hooked on top of the plug of his ear, but her eyes were adjusting, slowly.
A thrill of danger worked it's way up her spine and a hungry look bloomed on her face. She turned her head to look around at Cain in the darkness of the truck with that same expression, though her voice was low and serious.
"Chances are, there are a few around here who will kill to get this truck." Or me, she realized with a start, forgetting women were usually a valuable commodity in these parts. That made her blood boil further. Though some might be tempted by Cain as well...he was delectable rather attractive himself. "I don't think we'll be waiting long,"
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 20, 2013 1:33:49 GMT -8
"Then let's drop the bait an' see what bites," the man replied, his voice lowering to match hers. He let the cherry-red truck creep to a stop in the middle of the intersection before turning off the ignition and parking the vehicle. Cain stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut behind him, locked. His devious eyes peered down the surrounding streets, flicking from firelight to firelight and the shadow-scarred faces that hovered over them like ghosts. All attention in the eerily quiet street would fixed on them by now, of course, so there were plenty of faces turned their way. None of them looked happy. Some of them looked mean, but fearful. To Cain, they all looked weak.
He pocketed his hands and casually sauntered around to the front of the car, where he'd let his smoldering gaze drift to Delilah. The corner of his mouth twisted to give her a sly little now we wait sort of grin.
"There's an axe in the bed of the truck, under the tarp." he murmured quietly. Because yeah, chopping people up was a good way to vent. The man winked at her before he turned to rest his hips against the hood of the vehicle, casually leaning with his ankles crossed. His hands were empty for the moment but the switchblade was only ever a flash away. He'd seem almost genuinely relaxed if it weren't for the ever-blazing inferno in his eyes; the kind of sinister look that never slept and was never satisfied but would let you try to quench the burn if you only had the grit.
Shadows flickered and approached.
Two men from down the block nodded at the car and at each other, and began to walk slowly toward the intersection with lead pipes in their hands. Their hesitant, hungry stares wavered between Delilah and the truck, and only a little more hesitantly at the man leaning casually against the hood. Two of them, one of him, and a lady; that was their rationalization of the situation.
Not a very rational one, if they'd only known.
Cain turned his head at the sound of their footsteps, and he crossed his arms over his chest in slight interest but didn't move otherwise. Their approach was slow. He swiveled his eyes coyly over to Delilah and raised his brow at her suggestively.
"This your car?" one of the men asked when they'd come within fifteen feet of it. The other guy just threw him a frustrated sidelong glance: idiot, of course it's their fucking car, they drove up in it. |
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Feb 20, 2013 2:43:47 GMT -8
As the truck rolled to a stop, Delilah slipped out the passenger side door and slamming it behind her a heart-beat after Cain did the same with his. She fought to keep her face neutral. Her body thrummed with anticipation and she was reminded how itchy her hands were. She might just neglect her knives tonight, actually. She was burning, the light in Cain's eyes only stoking the flame that had been steadily growing in the pit of her stomach since she had woken that day.
Morality wasn't an issue at the moment. The right and wrong of baiting...no, outright provoking an attack of desperate people was the farthest thing from her mind. The strange curve of her lips and the slightly malicious glint in her cool blue eyes added an air of ruthlessness about her. Even her walk had a bit more of a swing in her hip, before she hopped up on the hood of the pick-up truck and sat there with one leg casually folded over the other, jauntily swishing her ankle from side to side.
""There's an axe in the bed of the truck, under the tarp."
Her eyes shifted back to him in time to catch his wink. A throaty chuckle bubbled up from between her lips. "Careful now, I might swoon," she said drily, though she got what he was getting at. An interesting pastime of his, perhaps? She thought about taking the earring back from him, but thought the better of it. She was loved the dark and the comfort it brought her. If he moved the earring to his pocket, he would still be able to see as clearly as if it were daylight; Delilah was the one that needed this. She got the feeling that he was just along for the ride. The more of an advantage he had, the better chance he wouldn't get his ribs cracked again.
Hey, it could happen!
The shadows around them shifted, slightly. In her peripheral vision, she saw two men start to walk towards them. On her left, where Cain would be, two more men would hang back in the shadows, waiting to see what would happen. Maybe more were nearby, but she couldn't see them just yet. Looking at Cain's wry expression, Delilah couldn't help but wink in return, shoulders rising and falling with silent laughter. Too. Easy.
"This your car?"
She snorted derisively at the obvious question. Not a car, a truck. The mechanic in her already wanted to punch this guy in the face. She remained where she was, her foot bouncing along to an invisible beat as she looked the man over, pretending the 'others' weren't there.
"Is now," she was well aware the truck was probably...stolen didn't seem like the right word for a time when material wealth was virtually non-existent, but there wasn't anything better to describe it. Illicitly acquired? Bah.
She smiled challengingly at the men with the pipes, casual as can be as she lounged on the hood of the truck. "I hope that's not a problem..." there was a subtle yet very real vein of a threat in her tone there that implied fully that if they weren't committed to the thoughts in their minds, that they should abandon them now, while they had the chance.
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Post by Vespyr on Feb 20, 2013 8:30:36 GMT -8
"Well, uh…" the first man began, but his aggravated comrade butted in before he could say anything stupid again.
"Won't be a problem if you get down off'it right now. It's ours now, see."
The second man stepped forward, lifting the lead pipe from his side, smacking it threateningly in the palm of his other hand, too cliché to be even remotely intimidating. The other guy glanced at his buddy and followed suit, putting on his best 'tough-guy' face. But his brow was a little too furrowed, his fear quite obvious.
They closed the distance to about seven feet, still leering at the girl with obviously bad intentions…
…but absolutely nothing to back them with.
Meanwhile, Cain had calmly turned his attention the other way, his head pivoting to the left with the ease and patience of a cat. Only the ravenous flickering fire in his eyes suggested that he was not, in fact, quite as ease as he appeared to be; like a coiled snake or the spring-loaded blade in his pocket, something fiendish and lively rustled and waited just beneath the surface.
Maybe he just wasn't letting on to how itchy his hands were as well, for the sake of letting this girl exact her pound of flesh. She deserved it, after all.
But Cain kept his keen eyes fixed on the other two men with a hungry look nevertheless, ready to spring off the hood of the car at the first chance they gave him. He felt a light burning, aching sensation just above his temples. Excitement?
It'd been happening for almost a month now, so he was used to it. |
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