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Post by titan on Aug 26, 2008 21:35:55 GMT -8
This was wonderful. Just wonderful. She was stuck. On a plane. With him. For. Hours. With. Him. and Michael, of course, but he didn't count.
"Are we there yet?" she asked no one in particular, letting her foot bounce impatiently. This was going to be such a long plane ride.
She'd already resigned herself to the fact that her brain and body were freaking crazy, and that she would dispose of both promptly when they reached land. They had to be nuts. She had to be. She kept...looking at him.
Frost was highly irritated at this one-sided half obsession and was currently considering taking her ax to the upholstery. She was giving it a mutinous look at this moment.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 26, 2008 21:43:36 GMT -8
He was in the pilot's seat. They'd been in the air for, oh, twenty minutes. The truth was that flying just wasn't as exciting as it'd been when planes were still open to the elements. Now they were so safe. Now they were almost quiet.
Still, there was something lovely about nightflying. Jakob liked it, anyway. He liked flying into the sunset as much as any hero'd ever liked riding into it at least. But, just in case Michael was a made vampire with an aversion to sunlight, the windows were shuttered, and it was pretty dark in the body of the private jet.
The cockpit was aglow, though. "Don't even think about it," Jakob said, flipping a switch, his attention forward. There wasn't a cloud in sight. "Because if you put that axe of yours through any part of my plane, well," he tilts his head back, gives Frost a smile that is both boyish and roguish, "I'll have to - "
He pauses, shakes his head. Chuckles, quiet. "Just don't do it." How'd he know? Maybe he was reading her mind. "And I'm not reading your mind. You just remind me of a dog I had once. Nice dog. Don't know why you remind me of her."
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Post by titan on Aug 26, 2008 21:52:08 GMT -8
Frost's wide, furious eyes blazed, but she said nothing. Instead, she considered taking her ax to the pilot instead. This whole thing was so infuriating! She now considered taking her ax to herself. Then to Michael, and then herself again.
There was, at least, good news on the horizon. She'd gotten a text from Pystol about a new addition to her ax: Recall. It sounded so fun, she could hardly wait to try it. It was this small kindness from Pystol that kept her mind off things for the next hour. Unfortunately, the flight was significantly longer.
She briefly entertained the thought of texting Seth that Jakob had wronged her in some way and watching Seth cut him to tiny pieces, but that thought left when a little voice in her head said, 'Yeah, then what would you do?' The implications of that thought process brought her mind back around to the present. This was not a welcome change.
"Ugh. Are we there yet?" she repeated, shifting in her seat, and just generally fidgeting in discomfort.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 26, 2008 23:02:25 GMT -8
Frost's "patience" is beginning to chip away at Jakob's. He put the plane on autopilot - hah, hah - then stood up. All grace, of course. All dark languor. He ducked, and then leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. He glanced once at Michael, but the prisoner wasn't doing anything other than lie there, barely functional, barely conscious, although conscious enough that every now and then he cried.
But Michael really wasn't what he wanted to look at. He wanted to look at Frost. So he did look at her, one eyebrow raised very, very slightly.
"I'm sorry," he said, as polite as any king to his valet. "Did you ask me something? I didn't hear you up there where I was working. What were you saying?"
He's all ease at the moment. Maybe a touch of amusement, too. Jakob usually finds ways to enjoy himself, or at very least to make others entertaining.
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Post by titan on Aug 27, 2008 1:25:16 GMT -8
"I said are we there yet, you jackass. You may go back to your cockpit now. Away. " She says coolly, doing her darnedest not to look at him.
She does not reply to his canine comment. It's best that she speak as little as possible if she wants them all to get to Vegas alive..or whatever.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 27, 2008 15:06:21 GMT -8
Jakob watches Frost watch anything but him. Away, she says, as if he were a servant, and Jakob raises an eyebrow. No, she did not just use that tone on him. She did not use that tone on him. It was one thing from Seth, and even then, Jakob didn't particularly take well to it. Seth had been human once, after all. Lesser. Weaker. Pathetic.
"Does it look like we're there yet?" He walks, step by step by step, all svelt grace, all ease, down the aisle. The aisle is short. He stops next to Frost, rests the palm of his hand on the seat in front of her; the palm of his other hand on the arm of her chair. Then he ducks down and leans across her. If they had any sort of body warmth at all that wasn't stolen, she'd feel it; as it is, it's just the presence and the smell: copper and wine. He gazes out the window, meditatively.
"There are clouds. And past the clouds there's ocean." He turns his head to look at her, smiling. "But yeah, we might be there yet. Maybe I should check the maps one more time, huh?"
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Post by titan on Aug 29, 2008 22:39:36 GMT -8
"Don't get snippy, you little bastard," she says irritably, about to feel his presence right through the side of the plane. When she got to Vegas, she was going to have words with Seth about sending her to talk to bastards that picked Russia as a place to live. That should have been a red flag for her right there. But nooo, she'd just had to use the jet. Bah.
"And kindly remove yourself from me, or I shall be forced to kick your unreasonably arrogant ass up here in the air." Yes, she was on a plane. No, she didn't care if they crashed. She was willing to make the sacrifice.
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Post by shinigami on Aug 31, 2008 14:53:26 GMT -8
Jakob's expression becomes serious. His eyes [the color of jewels in sludge] grow somber and serious, maybe even dark, unless that's just a trick of the angle of his head when he flicks his gaze from his body to hers. They still aren't touching. Not quite. It'd be easy, though. Very, very easy.
"My ass," he says, straightening. There. His presence is removed, or, at any rate, not near as close. But then he crouches next to Frost's seat, instead, "isn't unreasonably arrogant."
He smiles, again: vague smile, dreamer's smile. "There're reasons for everything. What I'm trying to figure out is this: What's the reason you've got your panties in a twist, huh? You're getting what you wanted, aren't you?"
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Post by titan on Sept 16, 2008 19:19:03 GMT -8
"Don't you have a plane to fly?" she asked, avoiding the question altogether, "I mean auto pilot is fine and all, but it also means that you're here, and not there and that is just completely uncalled for."
Yep, she's aware that she's losing her grip on articulate speech by the minute, that she's pretty much unraveling around the edges. Nope, she doesn't care. She doesn't know why. She would like to get off the plane now.
She considers, briefly, just jumping out of the plane now, but dismisses the thought. That would be running away. And as much as she recognized the need to run away sometimes, running away from Jakob was completely and utterly unacceptable.
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Post by shinigami on Sept 20, 2008 17:56:00 GMT -8
"You're so beautiful, Eleanor," Jakob says, thoughtlessly. Then: laughing, he leans back and glances toward the cock pit. There is some turbulence. The plane shakes. The plane shimmies. The plane rocks like the original rockette and, darlin', it aims to blow out its hip. "We're fine," Jakob says, straightening from his crouch. All lean. All lithe. All fluid hunter's grace, all darkness-edged; the man is only remotely human. "You let me know if you need anything." Innuendo, in the flick of his gaze, from his jaw, to her throat (mm, hello), to her breasts, to her hips. To her breasts. And, uh, not up again. He's a bastard, is Jakob. "I'll be relaxin' up front." He tips a wink toward the -- is he crying, AGAIN? -- poor Michael guy, then mosies.
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Post by titan on Oct 1, 2008 22:14:07 GMT -8
Frost's eyes narrow at being called by her first name again. Little bastard. But she was smarter than to say anything about it. It would just make things worse. She sighed, settling back in her seat. It was going to be an unbelievably long trip. Might as well get some sleep..
((figure we can end on this note...))
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