Heat Party
11518
THREADID
279
POSTS
261 - 270
DISPLAYED
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Amelita Cardoso, BP 1
"I know. Had to ask. You know how it is."
Amelita placed a hand on Anasztaz's forehead, checking his temperature.
"I don't think either of us found anything decadent to do. Want to duck out and get dinner? We can pack and make arrangements after that."
Amelita Cardoso|Striking Looks •• (Curvez)|Presence ••• (Miss Thang)||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Yes. The search will have to wait for a better time. Nothing sounds better than dinner right now." Anasztaz says, stretching his shoulders.
It was easy to lose track of time in here, and he had. Practically spent the whole party just enjoying the water.
He emerged and reached for his garments, rubbing his face with the towel he had brought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Amelita Cardoso, BP 1
Amelita hauled herself out after Anasztaz and spends a long time drying herself before wrapping her form in the sarong and slipping on flip-flops. Once she's done, the Mekhet holds out her hand for Anasztaz, awaiting an escort out.
Amelita Cardoso|Striking Looks •• (Curvez)|Presence ••• (Miss Thang)||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Having finished drying and dressing himself back up, Anasztaz departs with Amelita. Waving his goodbyes if he crossed anyone he was acquainted with.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Russ takes Martha's tiny hand in his own and bows to it. Well, not quite a bow, but more than a nod, definitely. He still has a bit of the old underlying amusement in his features as he releases it. It's subtly different than his usual fit of arrogance, as he's trying to be cordial.
But Russell has worn a mask of cold, cocky indifference for so long, cracks do not appear often.
"I'm gettin' along okay. The 'good Mister Flores' is keeping me out of trouble." He looks in the direction of the deputy for a second to punctuate his sentence before turning his chin back in Martha's direction.
This thread closes tomorrow at 10:30pm CDT, unless something dramatic happens.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
*Max nods to Kat, leaning back to open the distance between them.* The nature of my job, I'm afraid. I'm either out of the office, or so caught up in work I'm almost imposable to distract. Almost...
*A sideways glance to Cassandra, a playful wink before returning his attention back to the Gangrel.* There are quiet a few people I haven't met yet; something I'm trying to remedy. I know there have been some recent troubles with your Family, Miss Scherbotsky. I hope they have revolved themselves?
*the Reeve then turns his full attention to the Deava, leaning one arm up to rest on the side of the hot tub. If there happened to be an open seat next to Max, below where his arm was now, then such were the odd coincidences of life.* I was just thinking the same thing Miss Dawes. If tonight is any indication, our gathers would be much more enjoyable...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
*Ciara visibly shivers at the mention of the departed Doctor.* Let's not talk about the Doctor again. Ever...
*She shakes her head, as if trying to erase the memories of the thankfully few times she had cause to interact with the dead Vampire. When she looks back to Asa, there's a playful smile on her lips.* And who says they were meant for your arm, hmm? You're not the only one with an eye for beauty...
*Ciara takes a moment to look around at the gathering, nodding her head slightly.* A wonderful turn out too. If nothing else, it will turn a tidy profit I think. If you don't get petitioned to add a few pools downstairs.
*At the mention of the Herald, Ciara tries to focus on particular faces in the crowd but fails to find Martha.* I'm not certain? I think I saw her in the hot tubs earlier, but I cannot say for certain. Though, the attire would certainly fit... *Ciara had gone retro, but not that retro. And she wasn't about to spoil the surprise for Asa at seeing Martha out and about.*
Terra begins by dragging the contraption off the fountain. The spastically flowing waterlines collapse into the simple pillar it had started as.
these are the nights that are made into stories, an awesome indoor fountain mod, chatting with an old school proper lady whose got a gimp leg, crazy amounts of hotties, and a fine drink mixer. Shoulda quit earlier and hit it a little harder.
And who would you tell, all your 'friends'?
Terra stuck her nose in the air and ignored the voice that only she could hear, that nagging doubt that had kept her moving these last two years, that kept her awake at night by telling her she's unloved, ugly, clumsy, foolish. Well, alright, she might actually be a little foolish, but she's pretty sure the rest wasn't true. And something sets in. She glances back at Russell and Martha and Max. She remembered their names.
im staying. ive had enough of this no life and no one to talk to except the cute boy at the bar that i always leave behind. theres this thing called a freehold, its like a support group for people like me. sac has one. imma join and do some good, make some friends.
Successfully turning the beast of a jumble of metal over and unscrewing the dancing bar, she turns it in her hands like a weapon. Breaking down, each piece of the contraption gets smaller and smaller till she's got it all repackaged in a very wet suitcase. On top of it all she squished her bitter attitude and clothes before zipping it closed and popping it on the wheels. She walked slowly out of the club, popping her sexy walk. Confidence was key. The freehold would love her, she'd love them, and finally start her life again.
Sexy Exit
Terra exit
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Martha was fascinated, in the moments he shed his cockiness she found herself watching him with care, a smile and a nod. "Ah! Mr Flores is wise! I am sure he will be a good local guide, sir! All the same, sir, I do hope you will feel happy to approach me with any problems..." the smile and offer seemed genuine and freely offered, her tone seems to almost encouraging the next: "...or things to report or you wish to share!" Martha's gaze wanders a moment, the movement all about and the display of legs and bodies is distracting...she catches Terra's deliberately sexy exit. She blinks and, rubbing hard at her lame thigh, Martha looks to Ethan, almost as if to see if he too saw the exit.
Members who have read this thread : 2You do not have permission to view the list of names.
Draft this Post
