bitofalegend | (no subject)

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dakin,
in game

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All of it, this whole thing, is fucking mental. If she didn't know for a fact that there wasn't any acid or anything in her system, she'd swear it was one big trip, the aftermath of another overdose, but everyone she speaks to swears it's real and, well...you've got to start trusting some time, haven't you? 'Suspicious bastard' just isn't in Vod's nature - she'll leave that to Howard. Someone, some girl, took her to the clothes box, so she's managed to swap out the clothes she's been wearing for two days (clean knickers, thank God) and feels a bit more like herself, in skinny black jeans and torn cotton. She's even managed to find a passable pair of boots. It's something, at least.

Vod's always sort of thought of clothes like armour.

The sign over the door says that this place is called 'The Winchester', and it looks...a lot like a lot of pubs Vod's spend time in. It's definitely a start.
Now she just needs to get shit-faced.

And laid. Strapping one on? Would definitely be welcome.

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"There's one way to find out." Dakin decided to let it stand as it was; an invitation or a challenge or both. His drink was finished and it was time to start on a new one.

God, she gets off on arrogant blokes. She can't even help it. It's just fucking hot. She takes another drag on her cigarette, glancing to the side. "Oh? And what's that, then?"

"We could sit here drinking and talking til we just don't care anymore. Or you could could come back to mine and we can show each other how inventive we both are." He gave a charming, cocky smile. It rarely failed him. "Just thought I'd speed the process up a bit."

"Yup. Like it." Vod had been hoping he'd say that. She hands him the cigarette, knocking back the rest of her drink and then getting up. "Go on then. Lead the way."

Of all the things that Vod's got to be embarrassed about, sex has never been one of them.

Dakin quickly finished his own drink, stood and took a drag from the cigarette he'd been handed. All the while he kept some variation of that smile on his face. "It's not far."

"Even better," says Vod, flashing a grin, shoving the tin back into her back pocket. "I hate having to wait."

Not wanting to disappoint a little, Dakin kept the talking to a minimum as he led her down the -mercifully short- path back to his own place. (He refused to call it a hut. Especially when he was bringing a guest over for very specific activities.) He even held the door open for her.

"Home sweet home."

She likes a guy that doesn't talk; when she's in the mood to get laid, talking isn't exactly what she's looking for. She'll leave that for Oregon.

"Very nice," she says, glancing around. "You live alone?" Because that's got some implications, if he does. For content, like.

"Yeah." It's obvious that the place is too big for just him and there are still traces of someone else that Dakin's stuff continues to exist around. There are still things that are very much Scripps's Things and Dakin refuses to touch them as they gather dust. But other than the two of them it's empty.

"A couple of mates were here, but they're gone now."

"Yeah." Vod rubs the shorter hair at the nape of her neck. She knows what it feels like to have that sudden absence where, once, there were mates. Mostly, it's Oregon she misses the most. But she doesn't want to talk about it now.

"More room for us," she says, stepping in. "Haven't got to worry about bein' quiet."

"Good. I hate being quiet."

Though having Scripps around (maybe not in the next room, but still generally around) had been half the fun. Who was he going to tell about his sexual exploits now? Irwin? Burgess?

"Better and better,'" she says, and think she thinks fuck it and bends her head to kiss him, throwing her arm around his neck. They're nearly exactly the same height, which is something that Vod's more or less used to, but it's still pretty hot.

Dakin's good at talking. He's good at not keeping quiet. But when he has to he can be very good at it, especially if he is preoccupied with something more important. Kissing her definitely counts.

It's a good kiss - definitely points scored there. Vod pushes her fingers into his hair and gives it a little tug for good measure.

The tug makes Dakin get a little rougher in turn. The kiss gets harder, more demanding, and his hands -previously occupied doing vital reconnaissance work as to the layout of the foreign terrain- instead stop roaming in favor of gripping.

Vod has pretty much always been in favour of a nice grip. She groans slightly, shifting her hips to push her arse back into his hands as they kiss.

Dakin takes the opportunity to squeeze. It's been all Irwin for a time now and, while it's nice and certainly has its benefits, sometimes he just misses being with a woman. There are so many differences between the two and he loves them both.

Her arse is totally a ten, and she knows it. She pulls back a little, biting her lip over a grin.

"Quite a lot of clothes still," she says. "Wouldn't you say, mate?"

Dakin smiles, pulling back just enough to start tugging his shirt off. He might make some smart remark about how her own ragged shirt might be stretching the definition of clothing, but not now. He's distracted, pleasantly so, and his capacity for smart remarks tends to decrease the longer things go on.

Well, yeah, okay. That'll definitely do. Vod eyes him up appreciatively and then she peels off her own t-shirt, dropping it on the floor. She loves this bra. The colours awesome and it makes her tits look amazing. She sets her hands on her hips.

"Still good to go?"

Dakin takes a moment or two to simply appreciate the view. Her tits look amazing, but he can't wait to see what they look like out of the bra. He steps back in closer again, still smiling self-assured and a little challenging. "Still good. You?"

"Fuck yes," she says, reaching behind her to unhook her own bra, shrugging that off too. She covers her tits with her hands and grins.

Dakin's grin falters. Modesty, feigned or not, isn't exactly what he was wanting right now. "What's this? I let you have a good look at me."

He's a brat, Vod can see that a fucking mile off, but it's definitely not enough to put her off, either.

"Not the same thing though, is it?" she says. "Your bare chest, my tits? Not exactly...wotsit. Comparable."

"Fuck comparable," Dakin huffs, looking more put out by the moment. He isn't above sulking (and other tactics) to get what he wants, it's worked for him in bed before, but he doesn't want to put in effort this early in the game. "What's so bloody special about them that you won't let me see?"