(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | How long had it been since they've been together? Time flies by without a care except for adding unwanted stress and wrinkles. The stress being her siblings one-by-one remaking their appearances along with Xanthe wanting to claim Miyako for herself. With Masashi's equipment and Mao's abilities, Miyako is unable to kill them much to her annoyance. Part of her still blames them for the events that unfolded, but that was over sixteen years ago. She's mature enough to know that everything she's done is by her hand, and not theirs. They didn't kill nearly everyone at the wedding or composed a poison that's slowly driving her insane. With Dusan, though, she feels her life becoming more stable and sane. To come home to a handsome man smelling like fire and smoke with a passion hungry enough to devour her forces everything else out of her mind. His calm composure not feeding into her crazier side, and settles the wild emotions coursing through her. Recently, they've been arguing more and more over her being an assassin. Though she had dropped the seduction missions, it didn't mean her wardrobe had changed. There's always a need for surveillance and scouting, and one couldn't do that under the guise of a nun. Thin fabrics stretched over creamy skin with flashy cheap jewelry to catch wandering eyes. Coming home smelling like a ripe Omega with a heavy dose of Alpha pheromones was enough for Dusan and her to argue well into the night of what exactly her job description entailed. She belonged exclusively to him, and would never sleep with another. On the same coin, there had been times when Dusan's suits smelled like an Omega, and it nearly sent her into a berserk mode. There have been uncounted times in the past where she thought he would leave, and yet he's stayed. Truly, there is no one like him. He doesn't mind when she comes home soaked in blood or worn out from a month-long mission. Bringing gifts or massaging her sore body. He's never spoken the words, but she has in the quiet nights of their passion. Dusan probably thinks she doesn't mean it. Who could love him in a way she desires him to love her? To be there for each other and no one else? Though the thoughts are small, she wonders what life would be like without him in it, and it causes her heart to ache. Yet... She proposes the Bonding Festival as they get ready for bed. Her eyes bouncing to his practically unreadable face to decern whether he would agree to go. She mentions the food, masquerades ball, and fireworks. Parades are too crowded and they have no children. Passing it off as a casual idea so if he declined she wouldn't feel disappointed. Of course, his job as an agent is more important, and everything is tentative depending on who was deciding to invade Earth that week. There had been no discussion of love or bonding. So, she commissions a unique kimono for the event. Miyako enters the masquerade ballroom in heavy silk robes and a bone mask concealing the upper part of her face and flaring out to the side. Greens, blacks, and golds adore her and highlight the smooth skin begging to be touched and bruised. Embroided silk flowers on the left side of her head help keep her hair pinned back and up exposing her unmarked neck. Why would such a beauty enter the ballroom unguided by a potential mate? Was she alone? Would Dusan show up in his suit and a cheap mask he bought at one of the many stands outside? "Where oh where could he be?" she questions as her eyes dart around the room. Couples crowd the room as they dance to the waltzing music provided by the small orchestra set in the back. Laughter, love, and pheromones mix giving everyone a sort of drug-induced high. Holding a sleeve to her nose, she can smell Dusan's smokey scent through the fabrics from the mark on her wrist. No, he would be here, she was sure. "Are you here alone?" a male voice calls. Miyako turns to look at the handsome man beside her. Dressed as a vampire noble from the style of his suit, he extends his hand out to her. Pink eyes glance at the hand then back to his face hidden by the lace mask. "Do you ask every woman this question?" She lowers her arm to grab hold of the matching umbrella by her side. The handle hiding a blade in case she needs it, but stabbing someone would cause blood to stain the expensive silk, and she's rather fond of the outfit. The man chuckles. "You're the first beautiful woman to come here tonight." He didn't answer the question, and the pickup line is cheesy. Had she been younger perhaps she would've swoon to it. "Did your boyfriend or girlfriend not show up?" Miyako looks back to the crowd searching for Dusan but doesn't see him. Either he doesn't want to be seen or he's not here. "And how is any of this your business? You must be desperate for a partner to come here searching for heartbroken women to become your bride. My guess is you're trying to create a harem." To anyone not paying attention, the man is unaffected by her words, but Miyako can tell she's hit the nail on the head. His eyes flicker with panic, and his posture becomes rigid. "I suggest you leave me be and find your prey elsewhere." "And who are you to say no to me?" Oh, this wasn't a good start to the night. Peeved and annoyed by this random man, she flashes a sweet smile as she extends her left hand up almost as if she's going to caress his cheek. Instead, she grabs his throat and brings him down to her height so they can look each other in the eye. "Final warning." She tightens her hold enough to prevent him from breathing for several long moments before releasing him. He scurries away and nearly runs into a waiter walking around with champagne glasses. Briefly, she wonders if she shouldn't have just killed him, but that would be messy. Perhaps Dusan is rubbing off on her. So used to killing and disposing of bodies that it's just another errand in her book. "I need a drink." Recomposing herself, she picks up a champagne flute and takes a sip. Maybe she'll murder the man if Dusan doesn't show up to make herself feel better. | |
OOC Notes: I did listen to a lot of vampire waltz music to get in the headspace lol |
(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | So caught up in watching the man run she didn't sense the presence behind her. Her initial instinct is to attack whoever dared touch her, but the voice made her insides melt; a pleasant shiver running down her spine. Passing off the half-empty champagne glass to another wait staff member, she turns to lean more into that body made of brimstone and dominance. They parted that morning for their respected jobs, but whenever her pink eyes land on his imposing figure she feels her insides warm up. Lowering her sleeve she smiles up at him. "The only reason that man is still alive is that I don't want to ruin this kimono. I'm growing quite fond of it." She inspects his outfit for the night. There's a small shock of expression taking in the no doubt expensive kimono. While hers is more modern and glamorized, his is kin to a feudal noble, but with a warrior, power lurking beneath the fabric. The purple sash is a nice touch to the gold and black fabric. His figure and power making them stand out among everyone else in the masquerade ball. "I'm glad you could make it. I was afraid work would've kept you busy." Or some other reason. If there's anything she's learned of Dusan over their time spent together if he said he would do something then he would. Yet, the small fear that he wouldn't show up by his own admission or something preventing him kept her on guard. There were times where he was late to dates or dinner because of his job, and she tried to not hold it against him. It wasn't as if she was punctual despite how much her perfectionist nature demanded not to be; sometimes people didn't die on time, and she had to ensure they met Death. Cautious and on guard; her default nature saved her more times than she can count. "Whoever made your attire did a terrific job. Perhaps in a past life, you were a feudal lord, and I your concubine." She compliments as hands trail up his chest to feel the high quality of the fabrics. His heat easily felt, but it left her unable to trace his muscular body. "Or perhaps an assassin sent to kill you, and you conquered me." Anyone who overheard perhaps thought it was a roleplay the two did; after all, their outfits would indicate a rather fantasy aspect to the nature rather than the suits and dresses of everyone else (historically accurate or not, she was not here to judge them). Here, tonight, there was no work. No siblings, no aliens, no one to take their attention away from each other. Tonight, it is them. | |
OOC Notes: Link (http://zerochan.net/1041912) for Dusan's outfit if anyone is curious. |
(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | Both had worked in such secretive fields that opening up to another person was always a difficult matter. Though in the beginning, she was open with what she did, she reeled it in. She would leave a note, a text message - something to indicate she would be away for a time when on lengthy missions requiring her focus and concentration. Dusan was - is - a distraction. Xanthe barging into their home trying to take Miyako away from Dusan forced matters into light; why Miyako was sought after, and it was more than being an Omega or the bet. When one is born into blood, it's difficult to find a place to walk without tracking in the stains. People sought comfort the only way they knew. Outsiders were not appreciated, and Dusan posed a threat. So much so that even Ivan questioned if Miyako would remain with The Organization. Dusan required no protection of his own, Miyako hid as much of her job from him as she could. He didn't need to know the civil wars, mysterious deaths, or other factoring matters that required a delicate hand to handle such matters. He saw the outfits that would mark her as a streetwalker and the smeared lipstick; not the clothing she burned or the blood running down the drain. Some days were too much, and had he not been there she wondered if she would've collapsed into her insanity. But now, with her in his arms, and swaying to the music, she's happy. Her mind is calm and any murderous thoughts submerged beneath the orchestrated music and his fiery scent swirling in her lungs. One would think such a destructive smell wouldn't be pleasant, but she thrived on it like a human sacrifice. Her hands go to his shoulders and gently grip them. At his words, a faint blush dusts her cheeks, but she doesn't look away from those stormy eyes. "Perhaps more or less romantic than a man sneaking into a woman's room trying to steal a necklace she rightfully purchased." She jests back as though the events leading to such weren't tilted in her favor. "Are you saying spending an evening hiding out with me naked wouldn't be delightful? I don't recall you saying before." Their social outings among the normal people almost guaranteed a passionate exchange of lust (and sometimes destroyed her garb, but she wouldn't complain). | |
OOC Notes: X |
(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | There was a darkness that lied in Dusan; a small part of her wanted to slip beneath the protective layers and see it. Was he a monster just like her? He spoke little of his past, and his trust in her prevented the scratching urge to dig into his past. Rarely would she see chaos in those dark eyes. Would he sooner cleanse the world than be rid of her? She would poison all of Tokyo if that's what it took to keep him by her side. Miyako would break her mind to stay with him. Musing over his words, she chuckles. "Surprisingly, no. I don't wish to end the evening with passion quite yet. It's still early. I like this." This referring to the dancing, the talking, the normalcy that neither would ever obtain in this life. To pretend they were civilians with nine to five jobs is a fantasy. "I'll strip later for you." She smirks up at him; her blackberry scent hinting at the future pleasure they would partake later. It's still early in the evening, and the fireworks would be later. People huddle in with their partners to dance. The heavy mixture of scents suffocating despite the fans circulating it out. A night like this with the noises shouted from couples proclaiming their everlasting love easily hides the lustful ones in hallways and corners. Miyako hides her nose in Dusan's chest to intake his rather than the putrid scents of others. The orchestra switches to an upbeat jazz causing those who stood on the sides to rush to the center to dance. Dusan and Miyako bumped and pushed as though this was a rock concert rather than a ball. She tightens her grip on him to keep close. It wasn't as if she couldn't fight her way through; the kimono heavy enough to prevent her from swiftly elbowing and harming others. Tonight is about them, and not washing blood from her outfit. Her umbrella is kicked away, and disappears into the crowd. She frowns, but refuses to part from Dusan to retrieve it. "How rude. It's like this is an 0rgy festival. I was hoping for a lovely night of dancing with you." | |
OOC Notes: Cue rave music |
(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | Their relationship was a constant balance of give-and-take. Neither used to such commitments that it required adjusting their personalities to satisfy the other's need. She is like a firework ready to burst forth to spark the chaos and bloodshed needed to keep Earth's own political force in balance. Dusan was akin to a snake in her mind. Patient, silent, and wouldn't attack without the other striking first. Instead of venom, the fire would sink into his enemy's veins and they would burst into ash. Past the initial fight, neither trained against the other. Miyako's senses and observation of Dusan's mild usage of his powers in front of her concluded she would need an upper hand in the beginning otherwise quickly lose. It wouldn't be her Omega nature or female body, but rather when abilities are stacked against each other - Dusan had long and close range versus her only close range. After the claiming in front of Xanthe and Ivan, the two would ask various questions about the dark-haired man. Many Miyako refused to answer as Dusan's trust was more important; she wouldn't give information of his abilities or her opinions. It did make her ponder on their life together. Even if Dusan had no powers, his personality and determination wouldn't prevent him from being the strongest person in the room; he would always find ways to be on top. Parts of her perfectionist nature disliked it, and she had even gone so far as to research how to win in a fight against Dusan. How long had it been since she last looked at those files? It's been so long she's forgotten as fighting and winning weren't as important as bonding with him. Over time, he had become a tad softer. Not enough for anyone to notice, but in the quiet confines of their home, Dusan smiled more. His gentle touch, and affection words calming the chaos and killing impulse of her soul. Many would say she's been tamed, but had it been any other male she wouldn't have submitted. She restructured her style and decorated her home to what she thought he may like. His favorite food and beer are in the fridge. The simple things he didn't need to worry about. He always had a warm home to come back to. "I'm so spoiled by your self-restraint I had forgotten others fall whim to their desires so easily." Her face colors as he touches her butt. The kimono style she had chosen wouldn't take much to move it up to expose more of her flesh. Tonight wasn't going as she had hoped, but that's alright. Since their night in the hotel, she had quiet those fears and was able to think rationally about these kinds of situations. "I would still like to dance with you." She takes his hand into hers and moves them away from the hormone mess. Passing couples marking each other and some being more intimate in such a public place, Miyako guides them down hallways and rooms echoing laughter and moans. They finally come upon a stairwell and move up until they get to the rooftops. No one else was here leaving just these two to bath in the neon lights of Tokyo. "It's a bit silly, isn't it? To want to dance here when we could've done so at home." Miyako turns to face him, and smiles; their hands still entwined. "I guess I wanted to pretend we're normal people for a bit. We rarely have these chances." | |
OOC Notes: Hope this makes sense x_x |
(https://i.imgur.com/OKMGCMI.png?1) | Miyako puts her hands on his shoulders and sways with the music as Dusan takes the lead. She relaxed; even though they're no longer directly in the public eye, the more people around the higher her guard and awareness has to be. Only fools think themselves safe when no one is around. Dusan, though, Miyako knows he's always on guard; no one could catch him in a surprise attack. She's seen a few fools try only to be met with fire and brimstone. As a fighter, it's impressive. As an Omega, it's a trait she seeks in a mate. The world fades away until it was only them with the music in the background. "Our lives have always been chaotic. I've wondered what it would've been like we did not gain our powers. Had I grown up in a normal family?" As the disarray of her mind repairs itself, thoughts of what ifs entertain her during the dull moments of the day. Would she had come out as self-destructive as she did? Or perhaps found and married a gentleman only to live in a nice house with a white picket fence? There were an endless amount of possibilities, and maybe one day she'll inquire of it with Masashi, but he would probably laugh at such fantasy nonsense. "When my mind is most disheveled, it surprises me to wake up and see you there. Still beside me after everything. I don't understand why you would choose to live with me when you could have a stable home and partner anywhere else." There are times when Miyako didn't like professing her quiet thoughts. Some days she fears he'll find someone else and leave. Those days she's the most unstable and fights him on it. To get him to go ahead and leave to make what the voices say is true. Those same voices become louder the more she uses her toxin and knows it's slowly breaking her. Would Dusan still be here to catch her when she eventually fell? Or would he leave her shattered on the ground? "Even after all this time, you're still a mystery to me. Every time I think I know you, you always surprise me." | |
OOC Notes: Between writing this and Homecoming, it's a delicate balance between cray cray Miyako and becoming-sane Miyako. |