Very rarely did Atlas call others to him. He preferred to watch, wait, disrupt the everyday routines of his underlings. Summons were reserved for the trusted, the useful, the ones that proved they could keep tight-lipped on the Ace's solitary quarters that lay among the deep and twisted underground.
He sat at the edge of a shipping crate in the first layer of protection that separated his living space from the rest of society. A large, empty warehouse, filled with rotted wooden pallets and storage containers that had remained shut since the world had died. Cradled in his hand was a little glass vial, the contents the color of honey and the consistency of oil. He watched with quiet black eyes as bubbles formed and floated at the small movements of his pale hand.
He heard her before he saw her. What sounded like heels clicking the floor, echoing throughout the building. Even without his keen hearing, sound travelled unrestraint through the warehouse, and only with great effort and perhaps wings could one move about the concrete floor unnoticed.
When she was beneath, Atlas leapt down from where he sat. A 20 foot drop that would've shattered knees, Atlas landed soundlessly on his booted feet. He stood and regarded her with cool eyes, naked milky torso almost glowing in the constrained light.
He never looked pleased. But something fell from the tight displeasure that softened his features. He held a hand out to his Jack. "Come here, Eve," he said, gently, as if he were speaking to a frightened child or puppy. A voice that would have been kind if it hadn't been vapid from emotion.
When she had received his summons, it took every ounce of her will not to loose composure. Atlas very rarely called anyone to him and when he did, it only meant either of two things: one did good or one fucked up. And from his colorful history, very rarely did anyone walk away from a conversation with him with head intact.
Although Atlas had a mean and crazy streak, she found that he didn't really deviate much from reason. In fact, out of the many people she interacts with, he appears to be the most straightforward. If he got angry over something, he would kill. If he was bored, he'd kill. If someone foolishly stood in his way, Atlas would kill.
She couldn't, for the life of her, think why he'd call for her now.
Thus, she took time she to prepare for the meetup, disregarding the fact that her tardiness might rile him up more. If this was her last day on this decrepit earth she might as well be literally drop dead gorgeous. It was with meticulousness that Eve put on her layers of armor. Perfume, made of precious rose oil, massaged into every bit of her skin. A light but exquisite makeup, a delicate stroke of kohl lined her lashes to make her viridescent eyes appear more vibrant, and a drape of luxurious set of cloths, handsewn and fitted to show all her delicate curves.
Eve need not have it show that she racked her brains, remembering every minute detail of every action she ever did. It was perhaps the only time she ever did consider if she has done anything wrong... But thought of none. Thus, with a resolve of one marching up to her own death, she proudly showed up at the poorly lit warehouse a few minutes shy of being an hour late.
To say that she was shocked when Atlas just dropped from the sky was an understatement. Yet Eve did not allow it to show on her face. Atlas may scare her a little but she'd rather slit her own throat than let him know.
"Atlas." the corners of her lips twitched as she placed her hand carefully within his and struggled to form a smile. Viridescent eyes wander over the half-naked man's torso shortly before looking him back in the eye. "Some of the Heart whores dress more than you, darling. What's the occasion?"
Even with that gentle, carefully place movement of her hand, a waft of her exquisitely scented perfume washed over Atlas. It may have smelled sweetly to the average human olfaction, but the coy scent overpowered his acute senses. He were bothered, but it didn't show, his eyes steadily matching hers, two natural born puppet-masters meeting on their center stage, as he pulled her in close using a strength that denoted both power and precision, and a considerable lack of personal space.
He chuckled, a humorless thing that never quite reached unpigmented eyes. "I should ask you the same," he said, though his gaze never left hers. "It flatters me that you'd dress so prettily just to meet my acquiescence. Then again, you were always one to impress."
With his free hand, the one that cradled not the vial, he released her grip and instead grazed it over Eve's arm in a way that was mockingly comforting. There was no strength or urgency to his touch, for he knew she would remain in place, forced still by her own obedience to him.
Satisfied with this, and the unspoken tension that prickled beneath her, he leaned forward, so that his breath touched the shell of a jeweled ear, so that his neck was vulnerable and white and bare to a hidden blade, trading feigned exposure for exposure.
"Eve, you are a smart woman. It is why I entrust you with the labs, which you know is a source for our prosperity." With his other hand, he slipped the vial into her hand. It was cool to the touch. His voice was a mask of haunting fluidity. "Tell me, what's wrong with this vial of rancor?"
She had learned it was dangerous to be at arm's length to anyone and unless there was no question that she was the one in control of the situation, she had done her best never to be in such a position. Yet here she was. As Atlas pulled her in an obvious showcase of their difference in strengths, Eve did her best not to panic, despite the audible gasp that pushed out of her lips and the frantic fluttering of her heart.
"Feeling cold?" she laughed, her nerves evident in the way her palm on his chest still held him at a distance. Very rarely did Eve wished she was born a man, but this was one of those moments. For surely had she the muscle equivalent, then she wouldn't have been dragged in too easily into Atlas' embrace.
The young woman did her best not to sigh with relief when she was finally released, yet it was with some fear that she shivered as Atlas grazed his hand over her arm. For Eve who made a game out of seduction, she knew that his touch was one which was from veiled anger rather than comfort. And thus, she came to understand it was one of those days.
When he leaned forward, she did her best not to flinch back. It was most likely what he wanted her to do: to cower in fear of him. Even though that was what she somehow felt, Eve was stubborn not to show it. As far as she was concerned, she had done nothing worthy of this passive aggression he was projecting on her.
"Oh I am indeed, but that's not the only thing I do for you.“ She turned her chin up a little proudly. The laboratory was indeed her first playground but right at the moment, she was spreading her wings over other matters, specially those concerning profitable potential businesses. She thought of her recent acquisition, a new playtoy and a fighter, and it made her feel a bit better, as the thought of them made her momentarily forget her terror.
As a small cool object was slipped into her hand, her emerald gaze fluttered to look down upon it with some confusion. When he asked what was wrong with it, the proud grin on her face faltered a little. Bringing up the vial to look up at it against the poor lighting present, her brows furrowed.
"Huh, I don't know what answer you're expecting from me right at this moment. But if you give me a moment to call over a pet, then we can see what's wrong with it." She knew telling Atlas to wait when he was already bristling with fury was a gamble, but it was the best she could offer him ar the moment. Eve couldn't really tell what was wrong with it unless she tested it. But her number one rule was to never test anything on herself. It was what her numerous pets were for: guinea pigs.
Atlas held her gaze, studied verdigris orbs that glimmered unfalteringly at him. Though there was an obvious and strong physical difference between them, Eve had a mental fortitude about her that impressed even the immovable Ace. He searched her face for any indication of fear, crested brows or lips slightly tightened, but she had such an immaculate control over her features that Atlas began to second-guess whether he really had her under his command.
And that scared him.
"No." He chuckled, but the fragile amusement came out more as a huff of air. "That won't be necessary. I don't need to know what's wrong with it."
His clawed finger traced the outline of the vial cradled in her palm. "What I need to do know is why," Fingers coiling, molding over hers, tenderly holding her hand. He leaned in, far past what was personally comfortable for most people, and tilted his head, as if he were seeking a kiss from her. But instead, from those slightly parted lips, deceptively soft words floated out so it almost sounded like a rumble in his throat. "..it came back to me in cold, dead hands."
He suddenly squeezed the hand that held hers with a strength that caused the vial beneath to explode in a shatter of glass. Shards spilled from their closed fist, and soon after, hot, sticky blood trickled and dripped from elegant fingers. The exposure to blood coaxed the fangs from the top of his jaw and his black pupils flared, wholly overtaking the smoky blue of his iris.
"Are you trying to sabotage me, sweetheart?" he asked with a darkened voice, hissed through elongated canines.
Atlas, above all the barely veiled aggression, was beautiful to look at. That much Eve admits. And for someone who liked pretty things, he was among the best she had laid her eyes upon. In her opinion, the danger which lurked just beneath his alabaster skin also made him incredibly attractive. Their proximity and the knowledge that he could readily snap her into a limp doll made her feel a little heady, but the urge to not succumb and allow herself to be subservient even if this was her last day on earth ruled her more.
Still, defiance can only get her so far.
As he enclosed his hand over hers and then leaned forward, as if in motion for a kiss, Eve had no power over the little skip her already fluttering heart did. It was only his next words that grounded her. That and the spark of pain that came from the shards of glass embedding upon her skin.
Inhaling sharply, she kept the panic bubbling in her chest from displaying upon her face. Then, from their joint hands, Eve's gaze fluttered up to meet Atlas' eyes, now turned black from their previously pretty blues. The change itself was a warning for her to thread lightly and yet when she parted her lips, her words held no indication of guilt nor fear.
"Was it my personal pet? Did he come to you in a body bag? Or did you tear apart one of my pets again?" she asked, as she craned her neck forward to further close the distance between their lips, stopping short when her own ghosted over his own.
Despite her nerves, she couldn't help but smile at his question. Eve thought that if Atlas was convinced she had anything to do with the present problem, he wouldn't have allowed her any time to explain herself and just snapped her neck. This interrogation was therefore, just a means for him to blow off some steam.
"Baby, if I had that intention, one of us wouldn't be standing here right now." She crooned as she shifted her feet to further press her body against Atlas. Eve slithered her free hand between them and over his exposed chest, raking a lacquered nail over his alabaster skin and leaving a pink trail. Then she leaned her head forward to brush her painted lips against his, going even the extra mile to lick the sharp ends of his now exposed fangs.
"You should've told me you were just looking for a snack, I could've brought one with me." she pulled back marginally then hummed lowly. "But I guess you called me out here to let out your frustrations only upon me... If that's so, can you please make sure you leave your marks where I can still cover them?" she giggled darkly.
She might just be courting death himself right now, but at the very least it is somehow on her own terms. Tag : Atlas
The anger didn't disappear, only ebbed into steady movements as what came hot and uncontrolled to most manifested in a smooth, brewing storm of violence. He raised his left hand to poise a dainty forefinger at her chin as her breath ghosted his lips. It carried a carefully sweet scent along with its natural allure, like the rest of Eve's masquerade as a well kempt and dignified woman. Little did most know, she was a sewer rat like the rest of them. With that finger he gently tipped her head backwards, to bring large, dulcet eyes further up, and to reveal her slender, delectable collarbones that supported a milky, delicate neck.
"Oh, Eve. You know I'd never touch one of your chattel without your permission," Atlas reassured in that low voice, that may have been tender had it been filled with warmth. Instead, it was cold, empty, like the wind that whistled through a deep, underground cavern. "I know how fond of them you are."
Eve's pets were everywhere, established even before Atlas ascended to Ace. He had meticulously combed through the ranks for them, to get a sense of who was a loyal to who, but even then the web of connections grew complicated and messy. He figured it was easier to keep everyone corralled by fear. Eve, at times, was an exception, and so long as he kept her happy with a full wallet and satisfied needs, then she would not be an issue.
The challenge was to resist her. Her body pressed against his, oh so curvaceous and warm, an enticing beacon in the shadowed depths of his lair. With her before him, it was hard not to grow sullen at the thought of his loneliness here and it was through that that Atlas feared she was beginning to touch a tender part of his heart. Even as Infected, he still had urges, and he relished the fiery pain on his skin that ignited from her painted fingernail.
"So you haven't lost your sense," Atlas purred back as the woman's tongue ran over his fangs, her essence delicious. He gripped her wrist, the one that the vial had been crushed in, and brought it up with an iron pull. His black orbs bored into hers as he ran his tongue over the streams of crimson that trickled down her soft palm. The explosion of flavor, from blood and rancor, set his insides afire. At the same time, his other hand planted itself on the small of her back and Atlas pulled her in closer, so he could hear her heartbeat racing beneath her chest.
"I only do so because of how fun you are to punish," Atlas drawled past her hand, his white lips slightly stained claret with her blood. "Do you know how much the others scream and cry? It gets ever so loathesome."
As he tipped her head backward with a slender long-nailed finger and his eyes settled on her exposed slender collarbones and delicate neck, the thrumming of her heart tripled. She had always suspected Atlas was different.
She had witnessed his strength numerous times, was even subjected to it (albeit mildly), more times than she could count, and she knew he also has an almost obsessive thirst for blood. Eve herself, sometimes purposefully tossed a few unfortunate insects his way as a snack to quench "his thirst".
The only thing which held her back from being convinced that he was some form of Infected, was the fact that physical exams, those which she discreetly does whenever she invaded his personal space, told her that he was breathing and had a heartbeat. Both of which Eve presently confirmed he still had as she salaciously run a hand then a finger over his chest.
"Baby, if or when I do lose "sense", you have my full consent to make my head roll." she sultry whispered as he commented on her possession of "sense". Although the likelihood of that happening was great, she found she didn't really feel afraid of that possibility becoming a reality. "Just make sure you do it prettily and you preserve it in something so you can still stare at my pretty face all day." she giggled.
To be quite honest, Eve hardly thought she had any sense. Just as she was doing right now, the young woman found that she was putting herself in dangerous situations more often, and increasingly becoming obsessed over the thrill of it. Recently, Eve found that it was more exhilarating to put herself in peril to affirm that she lived and not just existed than to harass her cute little pets.
As if hypnotically locked down by his gaze, she found herself immobile as she felt his tongue run over her skin. Then another audible yet thrilled gasp passed her lips as Atlas pulled her harshly against himself.
Her viridescent eyes dilate as she pressed her body more against him, undeterred by the throbbing of her injured palm and the sight of her blood in his mouth. "If you're asking for some tips, then I'd say you should try to make them love your punishment..." she airily sighed. It was almost like a confession but Eve hardly cared whether or not Atlas thinks to connect such words to her. "...at least that's how I keep my pets in line."
Although it would likely entail a couple of bruises or more, she was becoming more curious as to how their current interaction would turn out. "...so, am I still going to get punished...Sir?" she crooned in a sultry tone, deliberately pausing at her last word, knowing full well that such an address effectively riles up Atlas.
"Love my punishment?" Atlas said, mulling over her words. He tilted his head, an almost innocent gleam in his eyes as he said, softly, "Then how would that be a punishment?"
Oh, Eve knew how to tug at desire, that one thing that Atlas fought to keep under control. It had already been testing him, with the slender curves that were so yielding to his superhuman grip, the slow trickle of crimson stark against her skin, white and soft like untouched snow. Her scent, coy and floral and chemical.
Sir. The proud and brilliant Eve, relinquishing her power to him. Nothing could have stopped him as he spun her around and pushed her- slammed her- into the steel frames that towered above him, presumably had once held shipping containers, hard enough to shake them at their foundations. Her weight was supported by the a straight metal beam at the back and Atlas' stolid body in the front, which hoisted her just enough so her feet hovered above the ground.
And he let his hands roam- one wrapped around her elegant neck, as soft and caring as a lover's kiss, with the taunt of pressure that threatened a chokehold. The other hand curled itself over her thigh, just above the knee, venturing upwards, slowly, savoring every inch of her. Who knew who else she'd let so close to her?
"That depends," Atlas growled against her ear. He took her in, her comely features, sharp collarbones, finery veiling ruthlessness. He pad of his thumb fingered the divot in her throat. "Would you enjoy it?"
The devilish grin on her face grew ever so slightly as Atlas inclined his head and stared at her with black orbs that rivaled dark ink. He was playing innocent and he knew that she knew that he was doing it. "It takes some special care to make people learn to love punishment..." she crooned at him yet offered no further explanation.
Such a thing dictated a need for a delicate touch and knowing Atlas, it was something beyond him. Yet even with such knowledge, Eve couldn't help pretend to try to pull his hopes up that it was something he could achieve... with someone else, at least.
For it was painfully apparent that he had her already hooked.
It was evident in the way her heart drummed like a hummingbird against her chest as he pinned her against a metal bar. It was obvious in the way her breath came out more a delighted gasp than pained and the way her eyes blew wider as he put a hand around her throat.
Biting on her lower lip, she hooked her injured arm over his shoulder, pressing her thigh against his exploring hand more, feeling the need to have it somewhere else, yet not truly chasing after it. Though her back was already smarting Eve could not help but press herself against Atlas, seeking more of his cold touch.
"Hmmm... yes.. no.. maybe.." she whispered in response to his question. It would take so much more than touching to make her admit she liked being manhandled by him. And only him, if that mattered.
"Why don't we find out...Sir?" her eyes twinkled as she again used the same word that landed her being pinned. Tag : Atlas
Her pulse beat under his thumb, like a squirming, panicked mouse caught under the foot of the cats paw. It elicited his fangs, which slid out like daggers from their sheaths, as Atlas moved his mouth from her ear to her throat. He moved his hand, so it cupped the side of her neck, and her throat was exposed to his lips, his tongue, as they ran down the svelte, snowy skin. She was so warm and present and alive.
Again that word. Sir. He knew she knew what it did to him, by the keen twinkle in her opal eyes. Atlas laughed, a sonorous rumble. "Are all of you scientists so ignorant of danger? After all: 'curiosity killed the cat.'"
An Old World term that had been summoned from the broiling, foggy depths of remembrance. Atlas was quiet about his past, because he frankly did not know of it. It came to him like a dark figure against a gray storm- the outline was there, but the details, the face, it was blurred and uncertain.
His tongue found the attractive arch of her collarbone, as his other hand gripped the side of her thigh and ironed it to the metal frame he held her against. His body weight was on her, and though he appeared slender, there was a formidable strength behind his grip, the reasoning being the secret they both knew.
There's too much clothing. He thought, as that hand shifted from her thigh momentarily to tear the front of her shirt open, using the same treatment for that damnable bra. Her chest lay bare, cold and naked in the reserved light of the chamber. He grinned, exposing for the first time his tapered fangs.
"What a beautiful creature you are, Eve" he breathed, and a hand came up the slope of her waist, under the soft incline of her breast. "What a drug you are." His claw tips teased the surface of her skin, until very fine streaks of red followed their wake.
A shiver coursed down her spine as she felt his lips move from her ear to her throat. There was once a fleeting moment of fear for her own mortality but that was quickly stamped out by his cool voice and her need to say something witty.
"It's easy to forget about everything else when there's an expectation that something more interesting and satisfying is bound to happen."
A needy moan passed her lips as he continued to explore her neck and his hand knead her thighs. She wanted more but she couldn't voice it. At least not yet. They were yet to arrive at that point where they're testing who among them will give into desire first. Eve would've loved to press her body against Atlas' more, but the strength with which he held her in place was difficult to challenge.
"Now you owe me a dress, she hissed as his claws tore apart both shirt and underwear. The cool air which brushed upon her exposed skin made her nipples taut, and the way his velvety voice drops another octave brought another shiver to her spine. Eve knew not to appear too needy, but there was no rules to this game they were playing and it was never discussed that she couldn't push him.
Pupils blown wide, she retraced the marks Atlas left on her torso. "As a drug, of course I should be beautiful... " Then very slowly, Eve pressed down to break skin, smearing what little blood that came out of them first onto her neck, then on the corners of his lips and lastly onto his exposed fangs. "and tempting..." she crooned as she pressed the surface of her thumb hard against the sharp edge of his fangs, breaking skin and letting out blood. "...would you care for more than a taste?" Tag : Atlas
Formerly a blue, of tempered steel and iced-over rivers, now encompassed entirely by black pupil. His lips peeled back to reveal fangs, peaking from each corner of his mouth. He watched her ruby essence drip from the wound that had welled beneath his claw, porcelain skin fissuring beneath it like it were as soft as down. Watched, wordlessly, as the pad of her finger smeared her blood at the corner of his mouth, the bow of his lips, the tips of his fangs. Something awakened within him, a beast that most with sense would avoid coaxing.
But Eve was not like most. Eve was a fire, always testing the limits of her borders with fearless audacity, never once concerned for the bodies and bridges burnt in her path.
Atlas allowed his eyes to close for a tantalizing moment, allowed the scent to fill his nostrils, his lungs, revitalize him like a drug he had been yearning. Her blood smelled of flowers, of pretty things and clear nights, noxiously sweet.
His eyes flashed open, colorless, empty. His claw traced the line of blood Eve had penned on his features. The tip of it came back crimson.
And then, with a reckless, forceful hand, he shoved her shoulder back against the steel supports, rattling the few containers upon it. With the other hand, he grabbed the back of her head, weaved his fingers through her hair, disrupting the orderly care with which she styled it, and forced it down to reveal the papery skin of her throat to him.
Her heartbeat sang beneath it, a glorious, alluring tune.
”I shall have more than a taste.” He leaned forward, breath ghosting the fresh, angry gash in her neck, that was pulled open by taut skin. ”And if you will not give it me, then I will take it.”
He pressed a knee up against her skirts, where her womanhood was, and rubbed his thigh against it, simultaneously stirring the organ while pinning her back with a strong leg. His lips hovered over the cut.
At the sight of his eyes becoming nothing but pools of darkness, her heart began to beat faster and her breath caught in her throat. Fear glittered in her eyes for one fleeting moment before it was encompassed by excitement.
There was no denying that what she was doing was foolish -- coaxing the beast out of its false skin and offering herself up for slaughter. And yet, Eve stood there motionless and mesmerized. She knew and was confident of her beauty and allure but there were undeniable times when she felt envious of Atlas. Not only did he look ethereal, he had strength, power and authority as well. And she, ever so ambitious, wanted all of that. Or at least, a taste of them, which she gets when she is like this with him.
But only with him.
Strangely, a part of Eve trusted Atlas unconditionally. And it was only with him that she could be both brazen and vulnerable. She didn't want to pick on and examine that notion but she recognized its presence. And for now, that was enough.
The breath she held was forced out of her lips as he shoved her shoulders against the metal bracings behind her. It would definitely bruise, if it hadn't already, but at the moment, she didn't mind. Or rather she couldn't. Not when Atlas had his lips against her throat and his knee against the place where she wanted and needed him most.
"Ahhh, forgive me, I haven't been abundantly clear." She brazenly chuckled, inclining her neck closer to his lips. "I was gladly offering." She breathily sighed, lids fluttering close as his next movement stirred her desire.
She reached an arm over and loosely placed it upon his shoulder, while the other traveled low and pressed down on his thigh. Peeking over hooded lids, she smirked at him. "Never." Shifting a little to rest more of her weight against the knee between her thighs, Eve let out a moan. "I have never forgotten my place. It's always been under you."
"Can you now have your way with me, sir?" She didn't want to beg but Eve just might. Though with some regret, she gave in first, the need to feel more overcame her want for whatever victory there was supposed to be in this game of seduction.
Posted 08-05-2021, 10:09 AM
anger management
