albinomilksnake | OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[He gets his freedom once she sees that slow, steady stream of smoke; the fresh blisters on her fingertips don't interfere with the way she tugs loose long strips of sterile binding, or the work that's spent tightly wrapping charred injuries under singed clothes.

It takes more than a few quick minutes, but she's quiet for once as she goes about it - waits till he's settled and patched up to turn the knife at her hip to the burns on her hands. Cut, drain, sterilize with iodine and wrap. Easiest process in the world, and one she's got down pat by now.]

[It hadn't taken either of them long to realize that Jack had too much power at his disposal for him to handle, at least in the realm of magic. He was too easily flattered, too easily angered, and too quick to pull the trigger. Fire was a dangerous weapon in his hands. It was his greatest asset and also his greatest enemy.

There's no complaints from him as Nisha goes about tending to them both. His arm has even gone a bit limp, and the color is slowly draining out of his skin.]

That's gonna sting for a while.

[His voice is gravelly, but its there.]

Hope so. [Though whether it's a directed at his injuries or hers isn't exactly clear. Gold eyes flick up to meet his, then arc down along the bandages-- the glowing tattoos that run parallel.]

You gonna tell me who 'they' are and what the hell happened to you? [The coldness in her tone isn't indifference: anger's stuck in her throat like bile, and despite the lack of a tripwire temper like Jack's, someone screwing with what's hers comes with the promise of retaliation.

Always.]

[He opens and closes his fist. Fire is the easiest element to summon, but its also the hardest to control. Trying to turn the fire of his anger to ice cold indifference is proving to be a challenge.

So eventually, he sets his hand down and looks to Nisha. His response is a rasped grunt.]

Lured a few chumps. Got followed by a manticore. Some coward snuck up on me and took off after I set their tail on fire. We're not talking about it.

[And that's the end of that. He turned his back, and he was an idiot for doing so. His new form came with as many challenges as it did power.]

Edited (i cant believe it took me this long to realize i confused chimera for manticore.....) 2015-03-11 06:37 (UTC)

Except for the part where we are, yeah. [Back turning doesn't mean anything to her: Nisha isn't dropping it any time soon, but how much he gives her to work with determines how long she'll be spending tracking the cowards down.

Less would be great.] You have any run-ins with them before? Recognize 'em from somewhere?

Who died and gave you my job? That's a trick question.

[Jack very stubbornly pushes himself to his feet and shambles toward the pile of materials. Its without hesitation that Jack climbs up the side to stretch out across it.

It doesn't help his headache.]

God, I have the worst headache.

[She watches him go, one brow arched lazily under the brim of her hat. Doesn't get to wear it all that much (hard to keep it in place on a hunt with sharp ears getting in the way) but for the moment it's intact - is until she pulls it loose and drops it over his face while casually passing by.] Get some rest, then.

I got places to be.

[And people to kill, more importantly.]

Wh--hey! Get your ass back over here!

[He sits up and flinches, grasping at air a bit helplessly. Aside from the fact that he hurts and doesn't want to leave his pile, he doesn't want Nisha taking his revenge from him.

So he goes limp on the pile and starts to whine dramatically:]

Nishaaaaaa......come on.

[It's the whine that stops her dead in her tracks just a few steps off, chin tilted back over her shoulder for the sake of catching his limp, faltering fingers pawing sadly at the air.

Aw. Look at that.]

Not gonna work, Handsome. You got a headache, remember?

[He scrabbles just a little to try and pull her back toward him, but doesn't put in any extra effort. He's the wounded one, after all.

But that doesn't stop his fingertips from growing warm again.]

Come on kitten you're not supposed to leave, that's not how it goes.

[Awkwardly, he scoops up her hat and places it on his head in an attempt to charm her back toward him.]

Also you have hat hair.

[Those cold, gold eyes watch him impassively for a beat longer. She's ice in the face of that charming display; frigid steel and hardened lines-- hardened lines with mussed up hair.

Which is exactly why she cracks the unwanted edge of a smile at the sight of him under the shade of his hat, attention flicking off briefly in a bid at ignoring it.

Just before she caves, edging back into reaching distance and tugging the brim down over his right eyebrow.]

So do you.

Maybe...

[Jack leaves the hat there for a few moments, but the second he feels Nisha return to him, he pushes it up to show her his cheesy, toothy smile.]

But fortunately for you, I'm still handsome as hell. Even with the hair.

[He tugs her weakly with his uninjured arm.]

Fix it for me, sweetheart.

[Stupid, beautiful, handsome bastard.

Nisha briefly eyes his stockpile, trying to judge how well it'll hold under shared weight. Given that it hasn't dropped him to the floor, it seems sturdy enough. And honestly, monster changes or not, having a hoard of valuables is pretty routine for Jack - maybe a lot more money, but enh, details.

So there's only a brief pause as she settles down beside him: hat removed, hair smoothed back carefully-- soothingly-- with her fingertips.] Only if you're up to returning the favor.

[Much better. He lounges in her lap once she takes the hat off, and once she runs her fingers through his hair. He purrs and leans into her hand shamelessly.]

Oh I'll fix more than that, babe.

[His fingers come up to rub across her chin, running across the vein he knows sits there.]

[She lets him settle there: his head cradled in her lap, clawed fingers running slow, lazy circles along his scalp, the scuff of his fingertips keeping the slight pull of a smile just there at the edge of her jaw.

Nisha doesn't like quiet. Something about it makes her think too much, gives her an itch at the base of her neck that has her tugging at the trigger of her gun and hunting for something-- anything-- to kill.

Brings back old memories that are better off forgotten.

But this? This works. And she's not about to question that. Never has.] Keep talking, hotshot - someone'll buy into it someday.

[His humming continues, and eventually his reflexes alternate, relaxing and clenching across soft flesh. Its nothing compared to the pampering he's getting, but the reward is easily in his much his anger ebbs out of him under her hands -- a certain degree of control that he won't admit to.]

Well, that's a shame...I was planning a cookout later. Was gonna bring out the following too. But if you don't wanna join up, I guess that's cool.

[He turns his head just enough to drag his teeth across her navel.]

[The response is mild, Nisha stays relatively passive aside from the way her stomach muscles flex away from the edge of his teeth - the quick scoff of a quiet laugh.]

Didn't you hear? I'm not big on barbecues these days; like my meat raw.

[Scuffing the pad of her thumb across the sensitive skin near the latchpoint at his temple for punctuation.]

Can't believe you'd ever give up the chance to watch me literally set someone on fire until they die from it. I mean come on, it doesn't get any better than that!

[Nisha wins his approval in the form of Jack moving his face a way from her stomach to press it into her hand. He's gone from chasing the muscles in her stomach to going after her hand, clipping his teeth into her skin.

He shifts to try and fain access to his arms so he can go further, but is quickly reminded why she had been there in the first place. Pain shoots up his arm and gets him to tense in her lap. His fingers scrape through their pile and shift some items off of it entirely.]

Urgh--damn it.

Easy there, cowboy. [The edge of her boot shifts against the heap to keep an even line to the curve of her lap where he's (now) resettled. Voice low, free hand still petting him to keep him down and content.]

Normally I'd say focus on the pain but seeing as how I'm still pissed off about all this, doesn't really seem appropriate.

[Her other hand skids low, tugging the edge of his shirt back down into place at his hip.]

Good, stay pissed off and maybe I'll let you kill him first so long as I get the first shot.

[He's never let an injury stop him from going after Nisha before, but usually, she's the one inflicting them. His pride stings like he's been hit, an settling down feels like letting that stupid bandit win.

So he continues to stubbornly try and sit up, even after she's grabbed his shirt to move it where it belongs.]

That's a big maybe.

[Back when she was his hired gun it wasn't really her place to stop him (didn't want to anyway so long as it meant she still got paid) but these days it's all a little more personal than paychecks, and he's one hell of a lot more banged-up regardless.

The hand that was at his hip settles heavy across the unburned center of his chest, pressing down with insistent leverage that translates to a very, very effective pin.] Damn right about that.

At this rate the only person you're gonna shoot is yourself. Probably in the foot.

[He exhales heavily when she puts pressure on his chest and struggles just enough for his arm to hurt again. His skin heats up out of reflex.]

Oh come on! I can't just lay here--

[He can't really move as well with her pinning him, so he shoves his head back into her stomach in retaliation.]

[The only thing that headbutt wins him is a derisive snort, her clawed fingertips curling up to scratch gently at his chest, which is, admittedly, kind of dickish given that she's adding insult to pinned down injury.] Fine. I like to think I'm not unreasonable.

You want up, you earn it. [Odds are if he can't shove her off he won't stand a chance in round II against what'd literally just hit him, after all.] Get yourself loose and you can do whatever you want to the sorry bastards-- I'll even cheer you on while you do it.

Screw up, and it's time to start counting sheep.

[The scratch makes him stiffen in anticipation, and Jack's face goes a bit deadpan. They both know he can't push her off if he has an injured arm. But if she's going to set him up with impossible odds, then he's not about to try and play fair.

So his skin starts to heat up even more, the tattoo glows blue (not purple this time -- he hadnt fed enough for that), and his yellow skin reddens violently where it is hottest.

Getting Nisha to give into pain wouldn't be easy, but its his only option.]

Aw. [She watches him go through the mental motions, waiting for that inevitable burn that starts to worm its way through the bindings on her fingers down into scalded skin. When it hits, she's ready: inhales only once post-cooing at him, grin widening by literal degrees.] Look at you.

Big, bad top dog takin' me down a peg.

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