TAGAspen O'Hara NOTES N/A
North was somewhat known around this area of Stronghold, which could be a double edged sword depending how one looked at it. On one hand, it was never good for people to know he was in the Military, skulking around places that operated outside of the law at times. On the other hand, he always had a good time when he came down from the Inner Citadel, what with a lot of people knowing him and exactly what he liked. North wasn't always a patient man, so having someone served up to him on a silver platter — metaphorically speaking, of course — without any fuss made the Infected rather happy. Especially when it was someone that was willing to sate his hunger... In more ways than one.
Red light practically glowed against the man's pale flesh as he walked down the street bathed in the red lights that gave the district its name. Various different people called out to him — some with a certain hunger that made it clear they knew what he was like — while others were new faces to him. No doubt fished out from the sea of poor by the Hearts needing more people to fill their ranks. None of it really matters to North.
At the end of the day, they're all human, and nothing but cattle to him.
North doesn't stop until he reaches his destination, a small but classy little brothel tucked away in a corner. While somewhat overshadowed compared to the luxurious displays many of the other brothels put on, North knew that the men and women at this particular brothel were always of the finest quality. Today was no exception: the man had booked a session with one of their newest arrivals, a 'Miss Morrigan' that he was told would be able to give him everything he wanted — and more. The madam of the place knew him well, and so of course North didn't think anything of it when she'd first contacted him about their latest sex worker.
As soon as the man enters the building, his senses are assaulted by the smell of heady sex. It was a small that no ordinary human would encounter — but for one of his caliber, it was thick in the air and enticing.
“Evening, Madam. As you know, I'm here for a Miss Morrigan,” North greets the madam as he reaches the front desk, who throws him a sultry pout before waving for him to follow her. Truth be told, North didn't visit the brothels too often. While he enjoyed the company every now and then, at the end of the day it still cost him, and North could easily find himself a partner just by going out to a local bar. But not everyone he picked up knew their way around the bedroom, so to speak. Tonight, was to be special.
"She's waiting for you in here, Mr. Sigurd," the Madam finally speaks once they reach a red door at the back of the brothel, a smooth and mysterious grin on her face as she walks away. North watches as she does so — hey, she had a nice ass, alright? — before turning back around to knock gently and enter the room. What he saw next, he wasn't expecting.
She had since the midst of a wretched storm that had drawn the unsavoury to her doorstep and caused enough of a riot that Aspen had caught wind. A broken body of a young girl, and Aspen had hunted despite it being Heart’s turf. The culprit had kneeled with enough force to crack his knee cap, head wrenched back to stare at the bruised face he’d left behind in his wake. She’d put a bullet through his head and left him to the rats behind the brothel.That was six months ago. Three days ago, the Madam of the establishment didn’t bat an eye as Aspen appeared on a quiet night to cash in her favour. In fact, the Madam gave her assistance as if she was reading the sexual synopsis of North Sigurd. Although it was unnecessary - Aspen hadn’t corrected her.
Morrigan was the Goddess of War. It was a gamble to provide it as a name given the majority of this city knew Morrigan as the Clubs Arms Dealer. Few would consider a strange girl in a small brothel was the same as the intimidating dealer. Aspen had lounged against the wall of the Madam’s office as she listened to the woman unfurl the tale of the Morrigan. Sensual, intoxicating, wild. She’d sold her for an excruciating price; a night he was sure to remember. The Madam positively purred as the currency was exchanged; Aspen, a hidden scent in the walls that contained the heady atmosphere of lust. Her mouth had curved in satisfaction as the Madam had weighed the amount paid upfront; a nod capturing her sharp chin before Aspen swaggered out the door from which she’d come.
The following night found her in a room painted black; an impressive four poster dominated the neat room. Her shadow was a singular wraith across the walls; captured by the dim light that flickered from lamps - a sign that the brothel was well enough off to afford the commodity of electricity. Carpet was plush beneath her feet as she prowled through the room; gaze precise and considerate like a hunter expecting its chosen setting for its trap. A hunter concealed in a gauzy kimono trimmed in lace; plucked from a rack hidden beyond the immediate room - and not much more. Silken sheets had been tussled - a sign the woman within had no time for the neatness nor care to conceal herself beneath the sheets.
Facing the door, a worn leather chair soon held her. There she lounged, legs crossed and foot tapping a soundless tune until the knock that sounded on the door. Her silence was invitation enough, and as the door opened, Aspen stroked the barrel of her gun down the length of a bare thigh.
“Hello, North.” Aspen purred, savage heat curling around his name. “Close the door. Sit.”A request, and a demand to set the tone for exactly how this was going to go.
TAGAspen O'Hara NOTES N/A
A familiar face — but not one that he's seen before here of all places. There's just a moment of hesitation as his cold blue eyes land on the unimpressed face of Aspen. It was like a blast from his past, someone he'd known long before he'd ever joined the upper ranks of the Corporate Branch. Someone that had slipped through the iron bars of the Military, vanishing seemingly without a trace. Yet here she was sitting before him now, a cruel and heated tone telling him nothing more than to enter the room and sit like a good dog. There's a finality to the words that make it clear she's not playing around.
North observes her for a second too long, his gaze lingering on her form just barely concealed beneath a kimono — hey, he was still a man at heart! — before falling to take in the pistol deductively tracing along pale flesh. There wasn't much that the Level V Infected had to fear, but he wasn't stupid either. A bullet to the brain was enough to kill any Infected, and last he could remember of the woman, she never missed a shot.
So he does as she asks: closes the door behind him with a barely audible click, before moving further into the room. His gait is quick and soft, yet wary of untold danger — a predator that knows better than to mess with another of its kind. His gaze does not move from her face now as he slides himself into a position on the bed, posture relaxed even if his senses are ablaze. His eyes look at the gun once more — Military issue? Interesting — before he turns his attention back to Aspen once more. Only then, when rested before her in an overtly dominating position, does he finally crack a grin.
It's cold. Malicious. Feral.
“You wound me. Here you had me thinking this whole time you were dead,” he muses aloud, neglecting the fact that he'd kept tabs on her for a long time after her disappearance. But there got to a point where she had just finally slipped beneath his radar — and, as any commanding officer would, he simply marked her as deceased.
“I didn't take you for one to indulge in this kind of lifestyle, however” he continues, deciding to put his foot in his mouth with a snarky comment and an even snarkier grin. “Is that why you called upon me? Miss me?”
There’d been numerous occasions when North Sigurd’s gaze had stripped the clothing from her and scorched a path over her flesh in such a way a blush had risen to her cheeks. Despite whatever bravo she’d ensconced herself in, she had eventually found herself in a position where submission granted her his silence - if not, assistance. It felt worlds away - not simply a few years where her life was torn away and she had no choice but to allow the grit of the world beyond the military’s control to shape her. To stoke the embers that were always present in her soul but yet fuelled to form an inferno. In the first few months, she’d considered reaching out to him but instinct had kept her at bay - to remain low and hidden amongst the muck of the slums than draw attention to herself. An animal needing to lick her wounds and heal; to evolve into a lioness rather than the cub once pawed at.
Beneath the attention that lingered, nothing but the flutter of the kimono’s lace trimming occurred - chest raising with a sigh dictating her boredom. Look, she practically beckoned. There was a reason, after all, she’d staged their meeting the way she had. Choosing to ensnare him in a brothel than make it clear she had morphed to something belonging to the Jabberwockies - at least for now. Once they’d been entangled, but Aspen had never had the upper hand. Certainly, she enjoyed what he could give - the verbal sparring matches that accumulated as quick as the heat that snarled through her veins and pooled in her core because of him. But it’d always been on his terms. There was a message here: she was comfortable in her own skin, she was in control, and the effect he’d had on her no longer existed.
The casual ease of Aspen also made it clear she had no qualms shooting him.
“Good boy.” Aspen purred, her smile severe as he stepped into the room and had the good sense to sit down as instructed. “Mm, yes, I suppose I should thank you for that.” She contemplated it, a grey gaze remaining upon him. The military had marked her MIA and closed her file within six months of her disappearing. They hadn’t bothered to look any further and as a result, they paid no heed to the weapons that vanished from their armouries nor contemplated who - pray tell - was behind it.
A snarky comment - and she didn’t shy away from it. The Aspen he might remember may have retorted, but colour would collect in her cheeks. Instead, she studied him as if he was a carcass and she was carrion content to strip the flesh from his bones, “If I missed you, I’d have just fucked you in some back alley long before tonight, Major.” Mouth twitched, mockery in the sleek curve of her brow, “You and I have never concerned ourselves with beds in the past, after all, have we?”
She’d kept tabs on him, biding her time. A name that wandered through her mind like a jigsaw piece that had yet found a place for itself in the big picture. It wasn’t until she’d claimed the position of Ace, the bruises of her more competitive clubs blossoming across her body like winnings, that she recognised the opportunity in North.
“What a large sum you paid for me tonight. Have you repelled so many that you have had to resort to paying now?” Pity slithered across her expression but her eyes were alight with cunning. “I’ll be taking my money, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Aspen straightened and leant forward, the kimono fluttering aside with her movement. Head cocked, “Congratulations on the new position - now tell me what your loyalty is worth.” It was a casual demand, her tone the lightest it’d been since he’d stepped through the door.
But there was nothing casual about the finger that stroked the trigger as the gun remained trained on him.
TAGAspen O'Hara NOTES N/A Maybe he should have been more aware of the tension in the room, the way she locks eyes with the devil and stares death down. Maybe. But a creature such as himself didn't get to where he was in like by being cowed by others — especially not one such as Aspen. They had a colourful past, the two of them. While a most carnal side of him reminds him of the fun they once had — his hooded eyes, perhaps evidence of his thoughts — there had been another side to their relationship as well. One of blackmail Of a poor, innocent little officer that thought she could betray the Military and get away with it. How fun it had been to keep her under his thumb, knowing he held the leash of a dog that would bite the hand that fed it should it be let loose.
Oops. Looks like that was what was happening now.
Aspen grins at him in a lazy way, a purr coaxing words from a venom-laced tongue — but North does not back down. He flashes her a grin of his own, seemingly unperturbed by the barrel of the gun pointed at him. Taunting him. Challenging him. His eyebrows twitch upwards slightly at the crude nature of her next few words, but it certainly doesn't do anything more than entice him to toe the line that much more. She was a dangerous, toxic snake hidden behind the petals of a beautiful flower, and how he wanted to test her reach, just a little. He's quick to slip out a coy reply of his own.
“Indeed. I'm sure you're still intimately familiar with every nook and cranny in the compound,” almost like a taunt, but a familiar purr to his words to make his intentions clear. “But what a shame. I would have enjoyed being jumped down some dark alley by the likes of you.” A slip of his tongue, curling against the soft pad of his lower lip — a singular blue eye, audacious enough to throw a wink in her direction. Ah yes, North, ever so smooth.
His mouth snaps shut, now, as the direction of the conversation takes an... Interesting turn. A cruel jab at the fact he'd paid for someone to warm his bed that night — not something that was all that familiar to him, but not unwelcome either. It wasn't uncommon for mistresses to want him to break in their latest arrival, and he was happy to do so. Money just happened to be part of the transaction, and it didn't make him feel dirty to do so. He snorts at her comment of keeping the money regardless, but his eyes are quick to take in the curves of her body slowly exposed by a shift in position — she knew him too well. He always was a hungry beast.
North isn't stupid. Much as he enjoys the thrill of the hunt, of chasing some pretty little ass, he isn't horny enough to truly believe this was just a social call. The gun trained on him is evident of that, a wary glance in its direction before eyes return to Aspen's face. Their eyes bore into one another, an unnerving challenge she'd never thrown his way before...
Interesting. How fascinating humans changed.
Ah, there it is. A price for his loyalty. His eyes once more fall to the gun before a smirk graces his lips, eyes hooded as they return to a grey gaze that brewed a storm within. Nonchalantly North allows his upper body to fall backwards against the silken fitted sheet on the mattress, elbows the only thing keeping his body propped up enough to still keep his eye on her. He's mildly curious as to why Aspen called on him now, after all this time, but then again he had power in his hands now that he didn't the last time they'd seen one another. Power no one else in the world could grant him — especially not her.
“You ask as though you'd be able to afford it,” he jeers, an ice in his tone now that was previously absent from his seductive purr. “Come now O'Hara, let's not play this game. It's no secret I'm not in the Military for money, nor any other kind of material gain really,” he begins to speak now, cautious still not to reveal his motives completely. “They simply give me something I enjoy — power over others. Power no one else can offer.”
Posted 10-12-2021, 11:10 PMThis post was last modified: 10-12-2021, 11:19 PM by North Sigurd
These rooms were designed to withstand the fantasies of the clients that drifted through the Madame’s doors; walls thickened to keep the affairs private and unable to disturb others within the establishment from their tasks at hand. It was just another reason why Aspen had chosen the location; knowing the words exchanged would be kept between them. Truths unable to be stolen by those who may otherwise loiter outside the door of a room as nondescript as the next. Alas, the environment was fodder for the tension and electricity that snapped and sparked between her and that wretched North Sigurd. A particular aura that clung to his presence that had brought with it an element of danger that she had leant towards back then. Now, that aura spoke to her own - a piece of her raising to the challenge as if alpha saw alpha and the she-wolf was disinclined to back down ever again.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” Aspen returned, her gaze slithering over the length of North’s body as he leant back on the stripped bed. Grey eyes heated, and a creature less attuned to the emotions of Aspen may have mistaken it for lust - that hunger. Yet there was something primal about the gaze; something animalistic that seemed to stretch itself out like an awakening beast. “The night is young, North, and you would find that the shadows aren’t what they used to be.” He winked, and her gaze pinned him down - expression clear of reaction to what would’ve once caused a youthful flip of her stomach. It was clear her mind wandered to the memories of the shadows that had shielded them in the compound; a hastened need to tear at one another for sport as much as for what she had owed him. Yet those words… the shadows of those dark alleys had nursed her here in the slums. Sharpened her claws. Given her iron teeth. It wouldn’t be soft and yielding flesh he’d find nor his name a warm plea tumbling from her maw - should he choose to drift too far into her territory one evening.
Amusement was a wicked thrill to lift the corners of her mouth as she leant forward, aware of the gaze that drifted beyond the delicate fabric of the kimono that did little to hide her away from him. He had no idea what she could afford. What she would give. What pieces of her she had sold already and what she could offer in order to complete the task she had set for herself within the months of her escape. She could hear the Badb’s word of warning ring through her mind; the husky tone of alarm from her current Second who knew her whereabouts this evening. Knew who she met, and what game she was willing to play to cement another pathway in the long game she played. In this silent war Aspen was building.
“And yet you remain leashed.” Aspen mused, thoughtful. “Sure, you have... power…” She seemed to consider the use of the word as she rose to her feet, a few steps taken until she settled in front of the man that lounged in a way that made him appear at ease in her presence - if it weren’t for the dart of his gaze to the loaded weapon that remained in her grip. Aspen’s head tilted, studying the man as if he were no more than a bone tossed to her. “But like a dog on a runner, that power only extends so far. It is still corralled in the boundaries of their making, still wielded by a hand that isn’t your own.” Tongue clicked, head shaking in sheer disappointment as if she was horrified he didn’t realise it for what it truly was. “More could be given to you, you know. If you felt so inclined to… take it.”
If he unknowingly yielded to a new sort of a master. One that would use and release him of his collar once his worth was spent. The thoughts remained nestled away in the meat of her brain, a shrug rolling through her lace drenched shoulder instead. “With a little assistance you could have a far more extensive reach.” Aspen’s attention lifted to his gaze, her smirk secretive as a brow rose, “If you chose to work with a particular Ace, that is.” She left it there. Left him to ponder the identity of the Ace, to put the pieces together - if he was smart enough to do so. In the meantime, Aspen kept her gaze upon him - watching his reaction to the words already given and the pointed assessment that was given in a too quiet challenge then after.
“You are far too overdressed for this occasion, Major.”
An indirect demand. There was no warmth in the words that followed on the heels of her business. No lust, no heat. Nothing more than the scrutiny of a woman that could’ve very well been contemplating skinning him alive.
TAGAspen O'Hara NOTES N/A
She's changed. Different — less like prey.
Considering the close intimacy of their relationship before — not of passion, but of heat and lust — he'd rather grown fond of the woman. Fond like a master to their pet, but still fond nonetheless. He could recognize the subtle change in Aspen's aura, even if it wasn't entirely clear how much she'd changed and why. But her sharp, grey gaze was almost equal to that of his own, a cool simmering heat that promised nothing good could come from it. It interested the beast, the creature that desired for something more exciting in his life. Of course he had enjoyed their little cat and mouse game from before, but this was curious enough that it keeps him still on the bed, merely observing the new reactions he pulls from her.
He laughs at the comment about the shadows — his home, something he bathed himself in regularly when on the hunt. Little did she know just how much the shadows benefited a creature like him. No matter what stalked the night, what lurked in the shadows, nothing frightened the Infected. But he keeps silent, choosing instead to merely chuckle with a slight narrowing of his eyes. As Aspen leans forward ever so slight, his eyes are trained to her movements, not subtle in the slightest in the way he enjoys whatever pale flesh gets revealed with each slip of her garment.
A comment of him being leashed — he scoffs. There had been another at one time that claimed such ownership over him, but North hadn't backed down then, and he didn't plan to now. North considers his loyalty to the Military paper thin — not weak enough that he would throw himself at the first person to offer a shred of loyalty, but not strong enough to consider himself leashed, either. His eyes follow Aspen as she gets up from her lounging position, moving closer to him with a feline grace.
Her next few words are a challenge to him. Challenge to his power, his authority, his reach. A lip curls as he's dissatisfied with what she's suggesting, treating him as nothing more than a caged animal rolling over for treats from its owner. The suggestion of having a little more reach, a little more power should he choose to work with an Ace — it bring a grin back to his face once more, a throaty rumble in his chest as he chuckles at the thought.
“My dear, what makes you think I haven't already?” Presumptuous of Aspen to assume he did not already have his hands dirty, but then again, all she knew of him in the past was his display of loyalty to the Military.
“My hands have not been clean for a long time, O'Hara. My leash, as you suggest I am bound by, has a much longer reach than you assume,” he purrs, a wicked tone laced with venom. As though trying to taunt her back, toy with her a little. It was not an outright denial of whatever suggestion she might have been making him — simply a correction of the fact. A suggestion, that perhaps he would require a little more to work with a gangster this time. His head tilts upwards at Aspen's comment of him being overdressed, and once more that cocky grin works its way back onto his expression.
“If you want me any other way, pup, you'll have to do it yourself.”
Some would say Aspen O’Hara had become a fanatic following the aftermath of her parents’ death. The ideals she’d nursed close to her breast, and acted upon beyond the scope of her superiors had mutated and engulfed her. The once harmless act of smuggling had morphed from skulking in the shadows to brutal efficiency. Clearing nests transformed into executing people by her word or hand. Amongst the crime, The Morrigan was born and everybody knew her goal, her motives. A nuisance for the military. Criminal, rebel. Leave her be, the gangs will take care of that one. But they hadn’t, and she’d risen to the top by keeping her hand concealed. The Morrigan was Ace, and that knowledge was kept concealed in the gangs like a bated breath - a ripple of apprehension shared in whispered breaths from one gang to the next.
Until now.
Now, she was in a position to let another peek at the cards she held. One could question her choice of spectator but alas, dangerous women liked to keep dangerous company. There were other options besides North that she could’ve approached. Men with soft wives and perfect children nestled in the bosom of their homes; roosting like chickens waiting to have their necks wrung in the name of a cause. Aspen had lain awake at night, in the early dawn and contemplated it. Her fingers gentle and thoughtful along the breast of one of the sparrows she’d coaxed into her home. Too many variables. Too many people involved. No, a lone wolf with a mean eye was far more predictable to Aspen.
His question was answered with a smile of pity, a glorious shift in expression that bore no sign of doubt. In truth, he could’ve been working with another Ace and she wouldn’t have known. It was an occasion where Aspen relied on her guts and what she could see. She’d spent long enough in the bowels of this shithole to feel comfortable reading the mute exchanges between strangers purposefully lost, to have the connections that allowed her to walk unhindered through particular districts and still be rewarded with favours such as the one that lead both of them to be here tonight. “You may have,” She agreed, shoulder giving a flick of a shrug. “, but how awfully safe you - and they - have played if that’s the case. What a waste of resources.”
North wouldn’t be shaken as easily by her brass attitude towards his current state of dress. The order was a passing thought in the wake of his words that held her attention, as it were. She wanted to know about that leash that held him. She wanted to know who held that leash and to what benefit that may be in itself.
The pet name caused a chink in her expression, a savage twitch to an otherwise lovely smile to sit juxtaposed to the malice that chilled her gaze. She had expected this meeting to be the furthest from easy, had walked in with a loose plan in mind knowing that rigid expectations would go horribly askew when it came to Major fucking North Sigurd.
“I’ve often thought of having you a few ways, North.” The unfurled purr drew her like a puppet on a string towards him; knee to the bed as she slid up his body and straddled his lap. Lace slid over her shoulder and pooled in the crook of her elbow with her movement, a hand at his belt with a quickened pull. Somewhere, there was a peep hole for this room. Had anyone looked through - which they wouldn’t - she looked like any other whore making a transaction.
“In the months after I fled. Lonely nights made for trailing hands and wandering thoughts.” The suggestion was clear; Aspen’s gaze seemed distant with the exquisite bite of her lip. Words were quiet, like a secret she had suddenly decided to enlighten him with. The release of a button, the slide of a zip. Another lifetime, she’d have made a decent actress. “I used to fantasize - well. It went something like this.”
The barrel of the gun settled beneath his jaw, nestling into the soft underside of his gullet with the bite of a particularly voracious lover. The loaded gun had come with her as she’d crawled after him onto the bed, slithering up with her until she’d leant close to him and toyed with his pants as distraction more than true intent.
“Mm, this seems about right.” Pressure occupied that barrel. The hand that had been on his belt - and likely on him had he allowed her - drifted up to tap a finger thoughtfully on his bottom lip. “Now, North, this has been fun, but let’s get down to business, hm?”
The glint in her eye was something akin to wicked delight and fanatical arrogance. “How far is your reach?” She raised her brow, grin a savage slash across her features as she showed her hand to him, “And how do you feel about working not for, but with, the Ace of Clubs? Beyond an exchange in information. Far bigger than you’ve seen come out of the gangs yet.” A wriggle of that barrel, “A partnership is a better deal than you ever will receive, I’d imagine. I’d probably take it, pup.” She mused.
Posted 09-26-2021, 10:49 PM
Graveyard Shift
