09-02-2014, 01:30 PM
So he was calling her bluff? That was dangerous with Oriena; when faced with the prospect of predictability, she was apt to change her mind out of sheer spite. Despite plans to make use of his crime - to her own advantage, of course - she was not invested enough to care what actually happened to him, and betrayal crossed her mind just to prove him wrong. It was a single word - pretty - which stifled the urge. Not through flattery, but in recognition of a weapon offered out unknowingly by the hilt. Inwardly she rolled her eyes; outwardly, the slyness of her smile sharpened. She spied the weakness. And she would exploit it.
With the heightened senses afforded by her gift, she heard the vibration of a phone in his pocket beneath his words. Her gaze flickered, minimally, before it refocussed. He could try and flip the situation back on her - ask her to explain her motives, but she wouldn't pander to that game. It was her game. And her rules. Threats were an unpredictable ammunition. The whip back of her hand might have been taken as an attack - and violence thrummed just beneath the surface with Ori, willingly released for less provocation. But in this case she chose to view it only as confirmation of her suspicions.
She stepped into his space. Oh, he could try and stop her reaching for her wallet, and a part of her wanted to test the rawness of their abilities in such a manner. But a larger part wanted to test his boundaries, to push-push-push until he broke, which was why her hand slipped into the pocket that held his wallet. A slow and deliberate breach of his personal space. Intentionally seductive. Intentionally dominant.
All cards on the table. "You owe me. A huge fucking debt."
The wallet, once free, she pressed flat against his chest. The iron in her eyes brooked no compromise - she wasn't offering out terms for her cooperation, she was stating a fact. As the pressure of her fingers released, he'd have to catch the device in one way or another before it smashed on the ground. She wasn't after anything tangible, not a favour for a favour; she was after debt, mountainous, inescapable debt. The kind that shielded a murderer. Her grin sparkled electric. And she let go. "Come on. You can buy me a drink."
With the heightened senses afforded by her gift, she heard the vibration of a phone in his pocket beneath his words. Her gaze flickered, minimally, before it refocussed. He could try and flip the situation back on her - ask her to explain her motives, but she wouldn't pander to that game. It was her game. And her rules. Threats were an unpredictable ammunition. The whip back of her hand might have been taken as an attack - and violence thrummed just beneath the surface with Ori, willingly released for less provocation. But in this case she chose to view it only as confirmation of her suspicions.
She stepped into his space. Oh, he could try and stop her reaching for her wallet, and a part of her wanted to test the rawness of their abilities in such a manner. But a larger part wanted to test his boundaries, to push-push-push until he broke, which was why her hand slipped into the pocket that held his wallet. A slow and deliberate breach of his personal space. Intentionally seductive. Intentionally dominant.
All cards on the table. "You owe me. A huge fucking debt."
The wallet, once free, she pressed flat against his chest. The iron in her eyes brooked no compromise - she wasn't offering out terms for her cooperation, she was stating a fact. As the pressure of her fingers released, he'd have to catch the device in one way or another before it smashed on the ground. She wasn't after anything tangible, not a favour for a favour; she was after debt, mountainous, inescapable debt. The kind that shielded a murderer. Her grin sparkled electric. And she let go. "Come on. You can buy me a drink."