milliways_bar | (no subject)

The black haired woman at the end of the bar watches you.

A glass of cognac nestles between elegant fingers.

Her eyes gleam from whatever light there is in the bar as they travel over you, taking in every detail.

Her nostrils may flare slightly, and in a whisper of fabric she slides down from the stool and clicks over to where you are sitting.

"Bonjour."

Niobe's awareness of your presence washes over her in a shudder that feels almost perverse. Her eyes dart to meet yours, head cocking swiftly to keep up. If she were a cat, her back would be arching and her hair raised. But she's still very much confused and if its not cold metal or goopy mush, she doesn't trust it.

"Hey"

Its almost a "'hey' what the fuck" and its almost a "'hey watch what you're doin!" but it passes as a "'hey' I'm just sitting in a bar at the end of the universe while all that I care about is fighting a war without me..." Or maybe its a little of all three, either way, it reads "CAUTION" all over it.

The woman's lips curl slightly and she doesn't break your gaze. Her eyes are as penetrating as yours, even behind your sunglasses.

She drapes an arm over the bar and lets the glass of cognac dangle from her fingers. As brown as your skin. She can feel the surge of emotion in you.

"Tell me your name, cherie."

Something is just not right here and its reading like one big hot mess in Niobe's mind. Not an immediate danger,but.....her feminine smell...so flawless and yet her presence is laced with this impenetrable electricity..... Niobe breathes.

"What's it to you?" This cat is just short of hissing.

"Idle ... curiosity," she says, swirling the liquor in her glass before raising it to her lips. Her tongue follows shortly after so as not to lose any of the taste.

"You have such an air about you. I could not help but wonder who you are."

She raises a sharp eyebrow, "Niobe". Its not just a fact, or a statement, its a declaration.

Niobe leans her head in a little "and yourself?"

"I am Persephone."

Niobe is a declaration. Persephone is something that you already know ... it's there. On the very tip of your mind. That itch just below your skin - of familiarity.

Of causality.

She sets her glass down on the bar and leans into you a little. Subtly, so you almost don't notice.

"What are you doing here, Niobe?"

Niobe suppresses a violent shudder. There's something so invasive about your presence, except that you don't feel foreign.....the shrapnel eternally lodged in a healed over battle wound..... Niobe breathes.

"I could ask you the same thing." Ahh the patented no bullshit default tone. "I'm here because of a miscalculation."

"A miscalculation ..." she repeats, rolling the words around in her mouth like she does her cognac.

"That is unfortunate."

Her lips part, just a little. All the better to take in your edginess. The stimulation, ah. The hint of violence behind your movements. They're delicious.

"What about you? Why are you here?" You don't need to see to sense that her eyes are narrowing in on you.

She laughs, softly. No more than a hum buried in her exhaled breath.

"I am here because it is different from the other places that I go."

More to feel.

She shifts a little, sighs, and the crackle in the air probably isn't just your imagination.

"That's conveniant." mmm its just dripping with bite.

For some reason, your statement brings thoughts of Morpheus to mind....one of the many she cares for..fighting without her...

"Oui."

She lets the silence linger for a long moment, allowing your thoughts to travel as they will.

It's all over you, now. Less than others but more than you'd wish.

"Do they miss you, when you are gone?" she murmurs.

She sighs, speaking briskly, "I don't even know how long I've been gone for, so I couldn't say."

Your words however are like little earthquakes in the subconscious and she is without an arch to find shelter beneath.

She continues smoothly, unfazed by your dismissal.

"Do they continue their war, knowing that you are no longer there? Or do they stop to wonder ..." Where has Niobe gone?

"Hmm."

"Such a desolate place you come from, that you must sit here and drink against your will."

She sneers at you and turns back to her stout.

Her tone accusing and bitter, "you can see the door can't you?"

Persephone matches your sneer with a hint of satisfaction on her polished features. It does nothing to warm them, although the glint in her eyes is brighter now.

"Of course. I come and go as I please," she says smoothly.

"Go figure." Her voice is devoid of any satisfaction in being right.

She forces a sigh. Her feel for the moment is a hesitant complacency and its shakier than usual in your silk and steel presence. This place is strange. She has no facts. So she's winging it.

"So where are you from?"

The place does nothing to Persephone. She recognizes it for what it is: another form of control.

She smiles a little and the air does that little crackle again, like bursts of electricity ... or programming.

"I come from a very old place."

This makes sense to Niobe. You don't look old, but you feel it. Not in that Crone way, but in that "you're alot like the Gods and Goddesses I used to read about in school kind of way" But this feeling cannot articulate itself further than the quiet awe of her heart.

Niobe nods. A sufficient answer. Niobe is looking ahead towards the selection of liquors and her slightly worn reflection in the mirror.

"You gonna sit down?"

She studies you, the liquor on the bar forgotten for now.

"Perhaps."

There's a smile hovering around her lips. It's not quite there, but you get the sense that a little more amusement would allow it to show itself. Her eyes express it as well.

"Someplace, perhaps, like your own." She takes in your outfit.

"Well when you know, feel free" she nods to the stool next to her and continues to stare out but abruptly adds "I don't come from a world of aged origin."

"You don't?"

She phrases it like a question, tilting her head and regarding you with an eyebrow raised. The effect is more knowledge that you have yet to come across, although it's subtle.

I know things about you that you would never even imagine.

She eyes your snakeskin again, predatory, and slides onto the stool decidedly closer to you than is polite.

She's slipping into an air of arrogance that seems to say "ok, yea you're close. but you're only close cuz I have the power to close this down if I wanna."

Niobe takes a gulp of her stout, she wants to neglect this nagging feeling. She just wants to sit and drink and wait for the door to appear but this woman....... she knows something....but what?

"No. I don't." Her voice is deadpan.

"What is this new place like?" she asks, her voice velvet.

She opens her purse and withdraws a cigarette case. It's black, shot through with stripes of electric green. An expensive lighter follows and a flick, an inhalation of breath and a cloud of smoke follow.

She looks at you through it, eyes shrouded.

The flick click and burn grab Niobe's attention.

Something about this is alarming... there's a voice that keeps whispering "predator" in her ear and the fact that she doesn't know why is making her irritable. In fact so irritable as to be even more reluctant to disclose information easily.

Her face is tense "Where I come from can never be old because it is always changing."

"Ah, but to change is to come from something. To tear down the foundations and build something new upon them. You may mark passage of time by how many cities have risen and fallen," she says casually.

"No matter how many things change, there is always something to look back upon. Some ... version of the past that you may or may not remember."

Your dichotomy of being both familiar and foreign and unnerving perfection is slowly pushing her through her irritation and aggression to the point of eerie calm.

She takes off her glasses and turns to look at you. Eyes carefully blank, trying to mask the confusion twinged with doubt.

"Persephone? How old are you?"

She reaches out and strokes the back of your hand with one fingertip, and then again with her palm.

Her skin is pale and surprisingly warm to the touch - not as warm as yours, but not the ice that her polished appearance would suggest.

The tingle and crackles becomes almost like a flame.

"Very old," she whispers.

Niobe turns to you with a face of mild alarm, resisting the urge to pull away reactively and instead her hand only twitches back slightly. Not wanting to betray too much of her feelings to her bar mate.

She's heard Cypher talk about some of the crazy shit that goes on here, if he were to believe him, this woman could be speaking very real truths.

Her eyes settle on yours and are determined to try and read them.

Persephone's eyes are deep, dark and give nothing away. The only thing they say to you is Look inside, my love, and see what you may find ....

She pauses mid-stroke and taps her fingertip on your skin. It feels like a mild gunshot.

"Although I like to think that I do not show my age."

This conversation...your /eyes/... are stirring her soldier's intuition,

tap tap tap

every tap like a short circuited wire in her brain

tap tap tap

who. are. you?

tap tap tap

What. are you?

She breathes deeply, your eyes....keep reminding Niobe of morpheus....your eyes....

your eyes /know/

tap tap tap

click click click

She keeps her eyes on you but reaches back for her drink, realizes that she has run up empty and with that free hand, taps the bar. It refills and she takes a heavy sip.

"No....you probably don't at all do you?"

"Non, I do not."

She's suddenly closer to you, close enough to smell her perfume - something musky, heady and altogether foreign. Her skin is gorgeous - she's gorgeous, and from the way she's stroking your skin and the thoughts she's gleaning from you and the feeling ...

It's good enough to eat.

Niobe's breath is getting shorter but she's so desperately trying to maintain a composure that doesn't betray her weak knees.

"You're not human."

"Does it matter?" she murmurs, her face now inches from yours.

She moves in a little closer and inhales your scent, rolling it around in her mouth like she does her cigarette, now smouldering on the bar, forgotten.

For the record, yes, Niobe does need a change of panties but she definately takes issue with anybody except a person from zion (a person she can TRUST) in her face, and even then, being able to walk away would NOT be guaranteed.

She sits upright her brows furrowing, damn carnal impulses!

"I'm a soldier on hold Persephone I trust you can appreciate that I have bigger things on my mind." She's practically spitting her diction.

Persephone doesn't move, although her nostrils flare a little.

"What is bigger than satisfaction?"

There is so little of it where you are from, my love.

Niobe is at a loss for words but maintains firm eye contact.

What is bigger?.....

/big fish little fish...swimmin' in the water...come back here man, gimme my daughter..../

"It is what you seek."

She doesn't touch you, but the air that whispers between you tastes like her.

And its taste is one of frightening comfort.Niobe's feeling herself going weak beneath the pressure to let go. But the fear of consumption has her breathily voicing "I seek my destiny."

"Your destiny."

Persephone's hand is suddenly against your cheek, stroking your skin. It's warm and velvety and smoky beneath her fingers.

Her eyes and the air just above her skin glow in this light. She looks like a goddess.

Your destiny is in this.

She presses her lips against yours.

Niobe's lips twitch and her head momentarily jerks but succumbs quickly, gently as if her body was falling asleep in your kiss.

For a moment....for a brief second....Niobe feels her eyes mist...but tears retreat as her mouth awakens and returns with reluctant but inviting pressure.

Her hand slides around your neck until she cups the back of your head, gentle pressure asserting her dominance as she curls her tongue over your bottom lip and gently slides it into your mouth.

You taste like ...

Morpheus.

She exhales as the name comes to her. Sensation.

Satisfaction.

Shadows of Morpheus super impose themselves over your pure, delicate, beautiful features. Niobe is kissing you. Niobe is kissing morpheus-or, well, at least wishes she was, whether she was aware of this or not up until now.

She inhales sharply at the sensation of your fluid tongue movements, drifting deeper and deeper into submission.

Niobe leans forward, her heat eminating. The borders blurring, her consciousness becoming nothing more than a whisper, she engages her tongue slowly, rolling with yours-taking your lead.

Her tongue moves almost lazily against yours, like waves undulating on the beach. Warmth floods through her and her skin is now almost hot to the touch, the tingle back and spreading through both of your mouths.

And almost as soon as you they plunge into each other, Persephone pulls away with a last flick of her tongue on your lips. Her hand slides back to your face, down your neck, tracing the countours of your jacket and drops back to her side.

"I hope you find what you are looking for."

She stands fluidly and the air around her almost shivers, as if it's met something so full of energy it must part and make way for her.

She smiles at you - deep, dark. She knows you, now.

She turns and walks away.