Blacktail Deer Plateau sweet talker

@Indie

There was a time when the black devil had not been on the verge of madness. Snake had always had the gift of appearing mad, but in reality he was much saner, smarter, and more cunning than any wolf he dealt with. The gift was to appear so, but not actually to be so, and that was a hard feat to accomplish. Never had he felt like he might derail, never had he felt like he might waver from his certain position in the world. Now he was simply...

Crazy. 

The man traversed the forest, turning angular head out to see the uninterrupted view of the flatlands. Saucer-like paws gripped the earth surprisingly agilely. He was more lithe than he appeared, for though he was large, he was slender and strong like a steel cord. He climbed forwards, muscles rippling smoothly under his pelt as black tail flicked left and right. Snake's sharp, hawk-like green eyes snapped towards the sound of a bird fluttering away from the canopy of a tree, wings flapping furiously, before they found themselves grazing over the the trees. They had been stripped bare by the grasp of the cold season, the foliage of the forest undressed and naked in the dead chill of winter.

The tall man paused and stood in the area, still as a statue, a strong stony figure standing erect and waiting. Long legs became pillars of majesty, holding up a broad figure of power drenched in the sweet darkness of black.

Indie was troubled. She enjoyed the Nereides women very much so [and was often delighted about the spectacle they put on around men] but recently she had begun to stray farther and farther away from the coast. Indie would always eventually return there, as Indie cared more for relationships than freedom. Nope, she simply sought entertainment. Something to keep the dark corners of boredom to setting in. Life was short, so why not live… vivaciously? passionately? If one did not actively take control of one’s life, it would surely spiral into doldrums. Life could bore you to death, if you let it.

After spending much time with the sea witches, Indie’s inflated ego had begun to think herself something of a harpy — and now, the harpy sought something shiny and new. A man caught her eye and the vamp snapped to attention. The vaudevillian almost immediately veered her course directly towards the stranger in the distance. And when she approached him, she did so silently, trusting that he noticed her [rendered any cautionary chuffs or greetings as nonessential]. “You must be very mighty,” Indie intonated when she drew near, as if it were a simple observation of fact and offered the strange man an ostensible glance: up and down. Let’s see where flattery would get her this time.   “You know, standing out in the cold and everything.”

sorry for the wait!

A new scent stuck to his nose like tar, and as he was approached, ears perked up. you must be very mighty. You know, standing out in the cold and everything. A grin split black lips and the towering king moved closer to the woman, green pits ravenously boring into her own with a fierce emptiness. "Oh, am I?"

He began to circle her as he spoke, stilted onyx limbs coiling him around her and bringing him closer with every step. If she had not moved away from him yet, he would move closer, the right side of his face so near to the left of her own that the very tips of his black fur just barely graced the tresses of her cheek. 

"Do I frighten you, child?" Chilling voice curiously inquired in a soft whisper, never stopping his fluid movement around her as he brought himself to her front, his nose always pointed at her and trained so keenly to hover just so threateningly close to touching her, but never doing so. He stood back in front of her now, having thoroughly completed his inspection of the woman.

"I reckon I do not." His voice was hushed and delicate, body still posistion motionless before her, his nose a fraction of a second from touching hers.

“No.” 

Her sweet breath caressed his own, so close were they. Such nearness was entirely unwanted [and unwarranted] but Indie had not moved at all. The dark man had rushed upon her, and with such intensity that the tempest though he had mean to brutalize her! But no, he whispered menacingly in her feathered ear instead. Her tensed muscles refused to slacken and the fur along the back of her neck prickled, the sensation traveling up and down her spine. It was unwelcome and she did not like it but like hell she would back down from his challenge.

Her word was simple, but true. The vaudevillian wasn't yet settled on which show she would put on for him and would remain vague until she did so. And so she wondered: which of her facades would this particular man appreciate the most? Indie ticked her head to the side a inch; not yielding to him but rather seeking his own gaze, to attempt to read him. Perhaps he was a man who longed for a smoldering temptress… or maybe a lolita youth. Or maybe he was not a man unpossessed and unfettered by licentious thoughts, instead seeking something more political in nature... then she could have real fun. Or maybe he wanted nothing at all from her — if that was the case, that's what she would be, nothing. She could be either or any of the above and more; she could be anything she wanted. She could be anything he wanted. 

But for now, however, she would wait and see in pregnant silence. 



.

It wasn’t a wait at all!

One, two, three steps backwards. Succulent bones rolled; lithe spine flexing beneath a blanket of onyx. Footfalls placed upon the earth with ungentle grace; rippling sinews stretching and pulling as he began to circle her again in perfect silence. "Hmm," he hummed in response. Green eyes lazily drifted towards her, a lopsided grin creeping over a narrow muzzle. Words filtered through black lips, tone lilting."Now, isss there a reason you have come to join me here, darling?" He watched her closely, waiting for her to move, to speak.

yucky post and bad length, aha sorry ^^;

He relented and moved away, leaving Indie to let out a hot breath. He was a hard one to figure out, for his exterior was so hardened and potent that Indie found it almost impossible to peer through his veil and glimpse at what lay underneath. Indie only had to know this man for several [interminable] moments to recognize his dizzying dichotomy — but she could not identify the man’s point-of-view or intentions as she could with most others. Other wolves were predictable, but he was not; evinced but his sudden rush upon when when her, his immediate talk of fear, how he inquired as to her purpose but didn’t truly care. Never before had Indie been talked to in such a way [not even by the pedagogue Donovan] and the uncertainty of the situation and unknowingness of his next moves unsettled her the slightest bit.

But Indie rather liked excitement and improvisation and she felt her soul flicker, reflected in the flash of her molten gaze — but her unmoving body remained planted where it stood. Afterall, she too was a creature of the night and would always entertain wolves with similar interests. “I was looking for something,” she purred, lifting her head to match his own stance.

Eyes of emerald did not miss the flicker of excitement in the woman's own eyes, and the man found himself eagerly awaiting where she would pull the conversation to next. The emotions radiating from her aura were most interesting to soak into his own mind.

When she spoke, lithe limbs had stopped moving, the twisting of his spine and body ceasing as he giggled, the child-like sound pulled from his diaphragm and into the air. "Ssssomething? My, my, you'll have to be more ssspecific, darling." Massive body lowered in a mocking bow. "You sssee, I am talented in many thingsss, but mind-reading is not one of them." Mind-reading might as well been one, as Snake spent so much time simply watching and observing others, that he could predict what they may do next as though he could read their thoughts. But alas, he could not figure out as to what the woman was after. Not that he minded; Snake was always one for games and riddles and fun.

The brute moved so much, and she so little. It was strange, since Indie was most often the one putting on a performance, with all the dramatic sweeping movements that her professional called for. Still Indie stood in place, forsaking her natural compulsions to speak vividly and passionately, moving her body and slipping into different faces and dispatching distinctive roles. Then he giggled, a haunting, persistent sounds that seemed to ring ceaselessly within her head long after the sounds ceased to come from his dark maw. Indie’s golden gaze still shone strongly, spotlighting on Snake, interest quite piqued at this point. Perhaps she would play; spin a little game for the entertainment and benefit of both parties. 

“Aye, well as luck might have it…” The shrouded vaudevillian always tried to have a plan, but [if Indie was honest], her unplanned encounters were always the most exciting. This was definitely the latter, and she had no idea her goals or intention.  “I was looking for a man who is none too keen at reading minds,” the woman stated in her customary cool contralto, so antithetical of his own slurred and syllabic speech. Lifting up an single ebony paw and place it down six inches ahead, she shifted her body forward in a measure half-step. “Or, at least, pretends to be.” Indie suggested. Let’s see where this goes she though to herself. 

He watched Indie intently, emerald eyes never leaving her, wether he were gazing into her own eyes or simply at her body. The man listened to her speak, his head tilting at an interesting angle and his tongue sliding out of his jaws. Ah, so play a game she would. "A man, you sssay?"  A crooked grin creeped onto his face, stretching back black lips and revealing sharp teeth. "How interesssting. Oh, and he'sss a pretender too? Sssounds fun!" he chortled in a lilting tone. Black tail snaked across the ground, the appendage long enough to just shift away the snow under his feet.

As the woman moved, eyes flashed in sick excitment, and Snake himself inched closer whenever he got the chance, although he kept his intentions hidden. His head bobbed lower to look her in the eye and his body seemed to tremble with excitment, another giggle filtering through ivory teeth and past his lips. "Now, darling, what perhapsss, doess thisss man look like?"

He lowered his heavy gaze to look in her eyes and crept ever closer to her, inch by dragging inch and Indie was once again struck at how much he moved and how still she remained. Indie wanted very much so to move, as she suddenly she felt quite naked under his advancing gaze — as if this strange man knew all of her secrets without her saying a word. As if he were watching her, playing with her, being entertained by her and yes these were all things that Indie strove for quite passionately in her life, but here it felt… misplaced. invasive. with cruel intention.

And Indie was usually the one with the cruel intentions, not her victim!

So she stood there, frozen in time, unspeaking, unable to break his gaze. When Snake was close enough that the tempest might reach out and touch him with her charcoal nose, Indie felt movement suddenly rush back into her body and she danced away from him in a flutter of black silk, putting several feet between the two of them. Indie turned back over her shoulder to look at the brute, tail swinging low like a pendulum between her feathered hocks. “I couldn’t tell you,” Indie cooed, keeping her true discomfort hidden behind a small smile and under a veil of ambiguity and double entendre. “but I reckon he is very mighty,” she suggested, harkening back to her ingression from just moments before.

When the woman moved, then, Snake giggled. His eyes light up with childish delight, and he feigns a pounce in her direction, lunging forwards before retreating back, never truly touching her. "You cannot tell me? Ssssuch a ssshame that isss!" The man weaved back and forth, back and forth, spine rolling beneath tight, dark, flesh, twisting his body this way in that in surprisingly graceful movements. His eyes never left her, watching every movement of her feet, every blink, every breath that left her lungs. "Mighty? He ssssoundss very interesssting indeed."

The devil inched closer still as he spoke, tone lilting and oh so smooth. "Perhapsss," he began, wide unblinking eyes filled with sick delight. "I could meet him, sssometime?" 

He moved quickly behind her with sudden movements, making her believe he actually aimed to harm her. Indie’s jaws clipped shut and she tensed her body, hoping she could cease his movements with her sheer willpower. It seemed to work; the portentous brute feinted back amongst the shadows, leaving her undefiled. Indie released a clenched breath with an audible whuff and craned her ears forward. Where fear once was, curiosity suddenly bloomed. If he did not truly mean to hurt her, then what was his intention, ambition, objective? It was uncomfortable, but great things were rarely born of comfort. 

Moving like a serpent, he approached her once more. His slurred speech spiraled and evanesced around her, and sometimes she did not know where exactly it came from. “I reckon you already have,” the baroness spoke softly  Indie twirled her body in a tight circle to locate his presence and drew up against his side; not touching him but letting the tips of her satin coat intermingle with his. Indie had no idea how to handle this man, so she would deal with him as she did most other men: with a little bit of flattery, a little bit of sensuality. She would be the mysterious minx, somehow attainable yet unattainable at the same time. 

Perhaps he was too smart for it; but Indie had learned that men rarely were.

Indie moved to face Snake. “He stands in front of me.” She then broke his gaze to look past him, taking in the entirety of his existence. “You are…  powerful," Indie refocused on the stranger before her, the flames in her eyes visibly dancing and flashing. “...influential.”  Perhaps these bold assertions were true, perhaps they were not. Indie really did not know anything about this brute, but anyone who approached situations in the manner as he did was sure to be going places -- and if he wasn't perhaps her simply saying these things made them true. Either way, she eagerly awaited her response. He was a creature of the night, just as Indie was… and Indie always worked better in tandem

The woman approached him, then, her black pelt flush up against his own. Snake didn't move, but let out a giggle and twisted his head around to attempt and lick her pelt, although the move would most certainly not be in a sensual way.

Saliva dripped from his jaws and he grinned as she turned to face him. "Indeed," was his response. She spoke flattering words then, that filtered through deaf ears. "Oh, but darling, tell me ssssomething I do not know." The onyx devil leaned in close to speak low, baritone words. "You play a fine game, if I may ssssay ssso. Thisss isss quite entertaining." He pulled away, bobbing his head up and letting loose another one of those unnerving, maniacal cackles.

Indie did not really like it when he came close to her. The fatale did not like his breath nor his greasy pelt, did not like how his saliva dripped from his lips nor how his eyes seemed to glint and glitter with a strange sense of delight. She did not like how he leaned in close and how his tongue seemed to tickle each word he spoke. But still — Indie would never show this. Indie a masterful shapeshifter and as such, she knew her facade intimately. Indie flickered her saucer-like ears forward when she wanted to press them them, moved forward when she wanted to move backwards, lifted her tail when it wanted to press between her legs. The woman was in control of her body yet allowed herself to move fluidly, freely, naturally — there was a certain strength and beauty to it. With any hope, Snake would not notice her unease.

But then, the stranger spoke a word that Indie loved. Entertain? Hell yeah, Indie could entertain. It was literally what she was made for. The mummer knew how to slip into a role, any role, and play it well through intentional movements and distracting language.  The vaudevillian had been taught and tested by the best conmen/woman out there, Indie believed wholeheartedly. Indie regarded him strangely, wondering if they were playing entirely different games — Indie’s was a game of intention, of always looking for that next rung on the ladder which she could grab and use to pull herself up on. Snake’s was a game of… well, still, Indie did not truly know what game Snake played at.

“Oh, but you do not know me.” Indie crooned, somewhat mirroring his own syllabic speech and mannerisms — but there was no way that she could imitate him authentically, for his authenticity came from a place inside himself that Indie hoped to never reach. Indie backpedaled a single step as a let out another cackle, turned her head to the side as if to size him up, then stepped forward once again and brought her visage closer than ever before. Her cheek never brushed his but she pushed her maw towards his ear. “Do not know how I crave power…” Indie breathed into his dark ears, words riding upon a thick exhale, trying her hardest to steel herself against his... crazy vibes. “…influence.” The veiled mummer left her tone vague yet suggestive; there was no haughtiness that would intone sexuality, nor was there any urgency that spoke of greed. It was a simple statement that when colored by the lens of his nonsensical brain, would evince his true desires. Yes, his reaction to her statement would tell her much about him — and Indie waited with bated breath to see what it would be.