The Choco-Beau

[kurootome]

Arm in arm with a young gentleman, she strode ever so closer to their destination. She heard of this night club, but had never really been. She was not sure if it was ‘female’ safe, but she was sure she would not be turned away.

The building was tall and wide. An over powering giant in the night with its neon signs flashing to signify its shadow was a real tangible object. One sign was a bright red-pink that stated the name of the facility in fancy cursive “THE CHOCO-BEAU”. The pun was catchy in itself, making the name hard to forget.

The second sign was animated, depicting an outline of their mascot, a rainbow chocobo that seemed to be walking its yellow feet as the sign flashed one foot than the other; back and forth. The windows themselves were tinted out, so one could not peer inside.

A menu on specials stood erect next to the door. In the door way, the bouncer stood. Tall, muscular and wearing shades at night he looked professionally intimidating. His hair was slicked back, wearing business apparel probably more suited for yakuza, he eyed Fricco and her down as they climbed the stairs. “I.D., please.” He did not move from his spot in front of the dark door way.

Kuro placed a slender hand into her jacket pocket to grab her card; possibly a fake i.d. that she paid a professional forger to make for her. Not that she was underage, but it kept people from tracing her name back to her. The bouncer could not tell the difference. He allowed her in.

When she strode passed him, she refused the ecstasy the next person she saw was trying to sell her. She did not want to lose her mind. She never liked the idea of losing control of herself through anything.

The atmosphere in here was dark and sensual. A place to let go. Something Kuro had a hard time adjusting too. Because this place was foreign to her, she scanned the large area to see all methods of exiting, indicated by the big red ‘exit’ signs above the emergency exits.

Between her and the entrance, there were lots of men; in many varieties too. Here they were muscular men, some tall, some small, some wearing close to nothing, others wearing too much make up, while others wore drag. It was their safe haven. A few women were scattered here and there. At least she thought they were women.

A pool table resided in a juncture to her far right; some men were taking bets here as they played.

In the main room, there was a bar, with many varieties of liquors and drink mixes. She strode over there to take a seat on the red stool; her eyes still scanning the room. There were a few tables here and there for larger groups.

A large blue and black checker printed dance floor was being used by many masculine people at the moment, the disco ball and strobe lights adding a special effect to their moving mass.

On the other side of the dance floor, there was a stage and cat walk. Large enough to accommodate a small group of people on its polished wooden floor, one was curious what it was for. At least those with innocent minds. However it remained unoccupied at the moment. The red stage curtains were eerily motionless, but not as still as the two silver poles that resided on each side of the stage.

Kuro sighed. What had Fricco gotten her into?

She eyed the bar, wary on buying something. She had never tested this liquors. She did not like the unknown, and tended to be more cautious when that was the case.She frequented the same bars on occasion, and tasted most of their liquors to make sure she understood their taste. The purpose for that being so if it tasted different she would know that someone was trying to drug her or the like. She debated on ordering just water, but she was sure the person who accompanied her would not think she was 'enjoying herself'.

Had he purposely brought her here because he knew it was beyond her comfort zone? If he thought this would make her an easy target, he had another thing coming.

[fricco]

Fricco followed Kuro as she made her way toward the bar. Watching her, he could see that she was to completely out of her element, so unsure of what would await her in such an establishment that it pleased him to see Kuro this uncomfortable.

The Pawn was now King, in their little game. And soon, he would rule the board.

With a press of his fingers to the small of her back, Fricco leaned close so that she may hear him over the night club’s loud music. “How about I buy you a drink,” he said as an almost courteous smile crossed his lips.

“For old time’s sake.”

[kurootome]

((I apologize I didn't describe the bartender or give him personality yet. I didn't think we agreed on what he is like yet so I leave it to you =D))

She knew on the inside he was reveling in this. But instead of being upset, she was more amused by this. It would be easy to get angry, but maybe she could tip the odds in her favor. She depended on skills and luck for a while, and it had almost never failed her.

As soon as he whispered to her, her eyes stumbled over his smiling lips. An arm moved toward him, and her fingers came to rest on the inside of his thigh. With the utmost delicate touch, she slid her fingers up his thigh, but as she did so, a contraption up her sleeve dropped a small throwing knife into her hand. What onlookers saw was flirtation, but the cold steel he may feel through his pants, could give him a separate impression.

After all, it was for negotiation purposes she took such measures.

Her hand stopped at the crook of his crotch and she leaned in to speak to him, her lips coming seductively close to his ear. “Of course, dearest. However you sample my glass before it is passed to me.” She would not hide her distrust from him.


She used two fingers to push the throwing knife back up her sleeve. The next gesture she made was as if her sleeve was uncomfortable and she was adjusting it to be ‘comfortable’ again. She spun in her stool and leaned against the table. Both elbows rested along the cold marble counter, while her chin wrested on her interlocked fingers. She scanned the menu that lay along the counter. She looked up at the bartender and ordered the house special. Minds as well start with something good. The bartender was quick about it, pretty sure he built of years of experience. He set it before her in a small glass cup. She smiled and waited patiently for Fricco to test it.

[fricco]

When Kuro’s slender fingers brought the feel of cold steel to his inner thigh, Fricco’s teeth clenched and his breath hitched. It was not fear or trepidation that washed over him, then.

No… It was something worse and far more uncontrollable.

It was Desire.

By the Goddess! He wanted this woman. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

But…

Just what he wanted her for, or to do, he did not know. This woman, this Kuro, would be his downfall, that he was sure. She constantly disrupted his life and threw his plans into chaos. Kuro was always a step ahead of his, and he could see in her eyes that he was nothing than a passing amusement—a toy to toss aside when he no longer suited her.

And…

He hated her for that, he’d tell himself.

Hate…

He hated her so very much. It was the only word he could find to describe the way that she made his gut tighten and his breaths come short whenever he was with her. Surely, he’d die of asphyxiation if he continued breathing the same air as her. She would destroy him, if he did not destroy her first. Every fiber of his being told him that she was dangerous. That he should kill her and take back the control that he lost to Kuro.

If he were to survive her, he must escape her.

Soon…

Before it was too late to turn back…

And before he became too caught up within Kuro that he’d no longer want to turn back.

Fricco found his breath again when the infuriating women withdrew the blade and turned to lean against the counter. His fingers itched to strangle her pretty neck for what she did to him.

She would pay…

She had to pay!

But…

Not now.

It was not yet time. This game of theirs was not over yet, and it would not due to hasten his victory.

No.

Such things were best savored slowly.

And so, he closed his hands into a fist, before taking a deep breath. Focus regained, her words caught up to him and a small smile curved his lips. Relaxing his fingers, he stepped forward to brush the back of his knuckles against her spine.

“After all his time, you still don’t trust me, Sweetheart?” He asked in a façade of offense—all the while not agreeing or disagreeing to her terms as a burly, yet effeminate, bartender set a glass down before Kuro.


((I'll have to move on to the bartender on another post. Right now, Fricco has only got eyes for Kuro.))

[kurootome]

She discretely took in his signs of tension - the balling of his fists followed by a deep breath. She was trying to gauge his emotions appropriately by cold reading, but this was proving difficult. Most males were easy to read, having a small range of emotions that could not be confused. But after knowing Fricco for a while, he was always difficult to gauge in his extremes.


Anger itself was difficult to manipulate. Let alone Fricco’s anger was harder to control.

His knuckles ran along her spine, transferring the electricity of his tension. She suppressed a shiver from it, but the hair on her neck still pricked up.


Despite all the warning signs…

She would stand her ground on her demands. If she let up and gave him enough room to manipulate with, he could prove a dangerous adversary. The rules would only be set by her. She allowed him to take her out of her element all ready, it would not happen again.

“Ah but lets us say we have been so long apart, that people can change for the worse. “ She waved her hand as if to disregard his statement. It was a delicate gesture in itself. “Besides, there are rumors that men like to take advantage of fragile persons like myself. It would only be a gentlemen’s duty to test my drink to make sure I am safe.” She smiled wryly. The glass was still left unattended. No gestures were made toward it. Her icy cold gray eyes burrowed into his own eyes.

A façade of innocence would indeed fail to entice her wiles against him. But it was better to keep a battle of wits under such façade in a place with lots of ears.

[fricco]

“Oh? Is that so?" Fricco asked with a quirk of his brow, before he removed his hand from her back. Moving around Kuro to lean against the bar’s counter, Fricco met Kuro’s icy eyes with his own steel blue.

“Then, my dear, one would assume that you see yourself as a fragile person, and me, as a gentleman.”

[kurootome]

She waited patiently as he answered her with his own question. He was stumbling. His hand removed itself from her back, and she felt partially relieved. The paranoia did not dissipate. It was very much alive. The tension between them rose as he leaned himself against the bar.

A delicate hand reached out for the glass at his next statement. “Indeed I am very fragile. And I assumed you a gentleman for offering me such a drink or bring me here. Perhaps my poor romantic heart cannot handle it.” The last sentence had a very slight hint of sardonicism. Her fingers traced around the rim of the glass. A soft ringing sound was made that was nearly hypnotic, or would have been if the loud music wouldn’t have drowned it out.


A frown tugged at her pale lips, “You disappoint me. Perhaps I was wrong to think such things. After all this time, I thought I may have had an ally.” The more he resisted drinking from the glass, the more stubborn she would be not to drink from it. After all, he may know the bartender well enough for him to try to drug her. Her eyes flickered down from his glance and she started intently at the liquid.

[fricco]

An ally… she said.

Fricco could admit that he had, more than once, entertained the thought casting Kuro in that role. The compelling challenge of figuring out a way to manipulate her into remaining at his side had tugged at his thoughts since the first day the thought of it. Finally, to hold this unyielding rival under his own thumb, it would be a truly marvelous feat! What luck it was, to hear her bring up the subject, herself.

Lucky, indeed, he would be. That is, if Kuro really wanted to be his ally.

They were the same, Fricco and Kuro.

She was just as much of a liar as he, and her words were never to be believed, just as his. When living in a life of deceit, such as theirs, they were meant for a solitary existence. They were lone wolves in this world, with nobody to answer to, and nobody to trust—least of all each other. They could never be real allies, for one would devour the other at the first opportune moment.

Fricco’s eyes darkened and his lips drew into thin, “So it is an ally that you seek in me? I’m flattered.”

Then, leaning closer to Kuro, Fricco’s longer fingers moves to join her slender ones. He gave them a brief caress before he plucked the glass from her grasp and brought the rim to his lips. Yet, when he seemed about to take a sip, Fricco paused and lowered the glass. Concentrating his steel-blue gaze upon Kuro, his eyes narrowed, “But, why would I want you as an ally? You’re fragile, as you keep insisting. What type of ally would you be, but a burden to take care of?”

[kurootome]

She gauged his response carefully. Every word he said weighed with extra caution. Only the gentle touch of his hand awoke from this trance. His fingers felt warm compared to her cold hands. The glass itself slipped from her fingers.

About time...

She was worried she would not have a drink at all tonight. This would prove troublesome since the whole point in leaving her house was for a drink. It would not do to not complete this goal, and much less drink with someone not suitable to play the role.

She watched as he brought it to his lips. So close, yet so far. It was starting to become a mild irritation that he would not test it. Now she felt like he was trying to tease her or annoy her. How childish. He spoke.

Her hand came up to take the glass back from him. She swirled the glass, with one hand. The liquid turned evenly and smoothly. “This very glass is fragile, no? But let’s say for instance the liquor in it is very essence. It gives the glass a purpose. Without it, you would not bother to pick the glass up, no?”

Her eyes flickered from him, to the glass itself. She turned more fully to him, and switched the glass to her other hand. “Now as the glass breaks…” Without another heart beat she let the glass slip.

It shattered…however the noise was lost in the chaos of the club. The bartender was not in the least happy. She ignored his disapproval.

“The body is broken, but is the very essence of its purpose lost? The purpose does not break, instead it spreads.” Indeed the liquor was a mess all over the floor, “But now someone has to clean it up. It does not disappear instead it leaves its residue on the floor and transfers itself to another medium, or takes another form.”

She leaned against the counter, and looked over at the liquor behind the bar. “However, that is only if the glass breaks. If it does not, it can continue its main purpose suited to it.”

She grinned lopside at her own private joke, “Our purpose will drive me, even if my body has to take a new form. That is why you want me.”

She waved a hand, “Besides, all human bodies are a fragile thing with the correct circumstances. How you decide how to handle the situation only leads you to being in the same circumstance as the glass.”

[fricco]

When Fricco had asked her why she’s want him as an ally, he did not expect an honest answer. He was well prepared for a fabricated response, and in return, he would reply in kind. What he received, however, was something that left him confused and at a loss for words. She spoke in metaphor about breaking glass and spreading purpose. How exactly this related to them, he was not sure.

His eyes drifted to the broken glass, where he watched as the liquor spread across the floor and seeped into the cracks between the floor boards. With brows furrowed, he tried to digest the woman’s words.

If she were meant to represent unbroken glass, then was he her purpose? Or was the purpose something else? She had said that their purpose will drive her, even if she had to take a new form. But, what exactly was the purpose to which she referred? What was this new form? Then again, maybe he was looking at this wrong. If she were the glass, then was he something she wished to contain?

Resisting the urge to clench his jaw and scratch the back of his neck in frustration.

Her words…They were so confusing that he could not even tell if she was being honest.

And…

Perhaps that was it.

Kuro, Kuro, Kuro…

Had she used those confusing words, purposefully? Was she trying to throw him off his game—to push him out of his element—just as he had done to her, earlier?

((OOC: Oh Fricco… He’s over thinking this so very much. Poor idiot needs a bone. Also doesn't help that his rp-er is a very literal person who sucks at metaphor. LOL.))

[kurootome]

Her words were loss to him. He hadn’t a response for her. Now why was this? Was he baffled and now speechless? The odds tipped in her favor. Lady luck was still very much a lesbian for her.

A waiter came by to clean up the mess. A broom took up the wet pieces into a dust pan. The nearby garbage can kindly took the sharp shrapnel. The waiter then brought about a mop, and finished off the sprawled liquor. He won the battle against the evil blob of a mass. Plus ten experience to him.

The silence seemed to last an uncomfortably long time. Kuro used the time wisely. Her eyes burrowed into him.

Her fingers snapped to get the bartender’s attention and once she had it in that split second she pointed down at the counter, indicating another drink. The bartender was hesitant, but not wanting to lose possibly good business, the drink came. It was nearly an identical glass compared to the last.

She caressed the glass fondly. A Cheshire grin spread across her lips. Her hand read reached out to touch his knee, not unlike a cat putting its paw down on a mouse’s tail to keep it from running.

Her body creeped forward; her cheek brushed against his. Now she was playing with her food. “This is why you need me as an ally. I can do things you cannot.” Her lips brushed against his ear. She was taunting him now.

[fricco]

Noticing her advance much too late, Fricco’s was unable to resist when Kuro closed in upon him. Cornered like a caged animal, Fricco’s breath hitched and he could hear his own heart beat through his ears. Her hand was on his though and he could feel her tingling breath against his cheek. She was close… too close… and he was unprepared to stop her.

He was loosing control of the situation—precious control that he had to reign in, soon, before all was lost to his rival.

After a measured breath and a mental count to five, Fricco made his move.

An arm drew around Kuro’s waist, pulling her close as Fricco leaned his cheek against hers and smirked.

“Ah. Is that so?” He drawled, pitching his voice low in an attempt to emulate sultry amusement, “Mind giving me an example, sweetheart?”

[kurootome]

She was suddenly pulled into him, her balance being completely dominated by him. She pressed warmly against him. Such ‘passion’ seemed to arise from him that Kuro had to force herself to not ‘blush’…if she was capable of such a thing. “….like th-“ Before she could even act on what she was thinking, the speakers kicked in rather abruptly and without warning.

“May I have your attention? The Nutz and Boltz are in the house let us give them a hand! The crowd on the dance floor and in the entire room stopped what they were doing and began clapping. A group of large burly men hustled in through the doors, making no small joke of their presence. Each wore very similar clothing that was reminiscent of a construction worker.

Ripped up jeans, dark shades, shirts that hung wide open to expose chest and abdomen. …they even had the heavy duty working boots, utility belt and a hard hat to match! Kuro could see Fricco’s fashion sense in them. The only thing that she couldn’t see Fricco sporting was the thick mustache on their faces!

The stage would be easy for them to get, however one of them recognized Fricco. “Oi”, they all grouped about him and patted him on the back. Kuro delatched herself from Fricco as they began to toss their towels at him. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a chuckle.
In a hurry, as if they were one mass, they pressed onward through the crowd and up the stage. Muscle and sweat did not seem to bother them one bit. The music played something energetic and fast paced as they started doing squats on stage. Each one shouted out to people on the dance floor to start doing it with them.

“You should go join them Fricco.” She had a menacing grin.

[fricco]

Pulling the sweaty towels off his head, Fricco glowered at the performers of Nutz and Boltz while they proceeded to do squats on stage as though it were some sort of… performance.

Who were they fooling? How was THAT supposed to be a display of talent? Muscled idiots, the lot of them.

When Kuro suggested that he join them, Fricco frowned. “Join them?” Fricco shook head with what looked like passing annoyance. “Why would I ever want dothat?” He said as he waved a hand toward the musclemen squatting on stage. “It’s not even a real show. It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is.”

“Ridiculous?! Little Brother, how can you say that?”

Fricco’s hand lowered as he turned in his seat to see a large framed man, who was clad in a wrestling body suit, standing behind him. Ficco’s eyes widened in recognition of the man, “Sweety…”

Sweety…

Sweety was one of Mukki’s bodybuilders, and one Fricco knew better than the others in Mukki’s gang. Back when Fricco first joined their group, Sweety that had practically taken to Fricco like white on rice. The guy seemed to think of himself as some sort of Big Brother—a relation Fricco never really cared for, or wanted.

Fricco sighed, “Easily. Shit like this is the reason why I left. I’m more talented, and can do much better than squats at gyms and gay bars. Being with you all was holding me back. I want to make a name for myself, and I’ll never get that with the likes of you.”

“You… You… You…” Sweety stuttered in response to Fricco’s harsh words, a look of betrayal on his mustached face. Then, with a sniff, the men lifted his head and folded his arms across his chest. Flexing his large pecks, he glared down at Fricco. “Think you can do better? Then prove it.”

[kurootome]

Kuro was amused by Fricco’s response. The men seemed so content in seeing him, why did Fricco seem so dejected by it. Did those throwing their towels at him make him feel slightly inferior? They must have known him very well to do that.

Her body leaned back against the bar. Narrow eyes glanced over at Fricco and his ‘friend.’ The conversation he had with the man seemed very charged with frustration. Perhaps Kuro preened his frustration and he was taking it out the man? Or perhaps he just did not enjoy the company of these men of his past. She wondered why. They did not seem to be bad men, just a little bit more flamboyant and energetic.


Kuro chuckled at his next words. They were holding him back? Does that mean he was nearly living with them? Had he disappeared and now they were back? Curious Kuro was curious. But she would inquire about this later.

A wide grin spread across her face. “Oh good. Entertainment! Just what I needed! Please Fricco, prove to us that you can do lots better.” A slender hand gestured out. “I heard you were quite the actor back in the day.”

Her elbow found the bar. She inhaled deeply as her head tilted back. Hair trickled down her back like a dark waterfall. Silver eyes closed, as she bared her neck, not unlike an animal that bears its belly to someone they are not afraid of or loyal to. Without moving her head, her silver orbs appeared under her dark lashes to look at him.

“Loveless is quite the play. I am sure whatever performance you put on now would be just as brilliant.” And hence the mistress waited for the jester to perform.