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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Apr 9, 2009 5:53:58 GMT 1
For once, numbers weren’t on Jac’s mind. Staring at the desk in front of her, there was really only one thing she could think of and it was playing a repetitive loop in her head.
Head thrown back. Spine arching at an impossible curve. Fists gripping the edge of the desk. Papers crumpling under her. Eyes and mouth widening as it builds and builds. Legs tighten on his hips. She can’t stop it building now and she begs for it. It comes in wave after wave and she screams as the pleasure consumes her completely. Her body is ridged as he draws her out for so long she thinks she might burn up. By the time he’s done she has barely enough energy to groan along with his final release.
Her heart was racing just thinking about it. Instead of writing up the day’s receipts in her own special format, she’d spent the last god-knows how long staring into space and replaying every earth-shattering orgasm of the last few days. Silas knew every trick in the book and he never failed to make her lose herself. She was just getting to the good part of last night’s roll about the office when the door crashed open. She jumped, her quill jabbing against her parchment and leaving a ink splatter and a broken nip. Grabbing her wand in her other hand, she glared at Silas (who else could it be?).
The sight of him however diffused her anger and sensual fuzzies and something that actually resembled concern flashed in her eyes. “Silas?” It was late, and though his presence wasn’t exactly unexpected, the fact that he looked like he’d insulted a hippogriff was certainly not expected. She rounded the desk, hovering nearby and unsure of what to do to help him. “What happened?” She asked, hands fluttering about his beaten face like butterflies unsure of where to land.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 9, 2009 12:22:03 GMT 1
Silas was starting to see a reoccurring pattern of things not going his way. And, when they did go his way, he had to jump through hoops to ensure it. Even the multiple rendezvous with Jac had only come about after he’d had to figuratively duke it out with Abe for possession. One other beginning trend he was coming to notice more and more often was himself being brutalised by vampires that could only be called clinically psychopathic. (Woo, hypocrisy.)
Even though this time he’d been the one to provoke the situation, it didn’t exactly make him feel any less furious about it. The fact that Ed - of all fucking people - had to be the one to break things up wasn’t exactly rubbing salt in the wound, more coating it with gunpowder and throwing a lit match.
The anti-apparition charms over Scores had been temporarily lifted in order for Silas to appear right in the hallway in front of his office. Walking through a crowded pub with gashes on his face and arms, a severely banged up shoulder, and a swollen eye would have attracted far too much attention. His head swam after the feeling of constriction from apparition passed and he had to momentarily lean on the door for support. His body evidently hadn’t appreciated the sensation of being teleported after a blow to the head, but at least he hadn’t splinched himself.
Silas may as well have kicked his own door down for all the difference it made. It swung open with a sudden BANG as it crashed into the wall. Silas’s eyes quickly caught sight of Jac behind the desk looking appropriately shocked, but it was a testament to how often she’d set up camp there recently that Silas didn’t even bother asking why she was hanging around his office. Instead, anger still tight in his chest, he rounded his wand on a set of draws and with a noise like a dull detonation the thing might as well have exploded. Wood splintered and papers went flying like confetti. Nessesary? No. But it sure as fuck felt that way.
He had to calm down. Get some sort of handle on his breathing. If Jac was worried or concerned he didn’t seem to notice. It did interest him to see how quickly she leapt to his side, although it would been better if he’d walked in with Dacian’s decapitated head instead of the state he was in at the moment. This felt an awful lot like he was being forced to crawl back into his little hole and it was a notion he didn't appreciate.
Never mind. He just needed to regroup, and then strike back with twice the force. He’d been quite happy to let Cain deal with Dacian on his own but now the vampire had guaranteed Silas was going to be making a personal appearance at the shack during the imminent showdown. He was just going to have to ensure that Dacian died properly, and fucking stayed that way.
“Don’t ask me about my business, Jac,” Silas instructed firmly, walking on past her. He attempted to lean on the desk with one hand and try and reach into the draw he kept his own personal store of booze, but it ended badly as Silas hissed loudly due to the shooting pain ripping through his shoulder at the movement. In anger he gripped his wand and jabbed it in the direction of the paper basket, which, as though it had been kicked, smashed into the wall with enough force to put a decent sized hole in the painted drywall.
The door was still open, he noticed. Without a word from him it slammed shut. Couldn’t have anyone else bear witness to his destruction of his office, Jac was enough.
“Wouldn’t happen to know where I could buy some holy water do you?” Silas asked without warning, his voice suddenly unnaturally calm in the wake of what just happened. He peered at her with one eye, and the look on his face was indecipherable. From now on he was wiping his wand down with the stuff every morning without fail. That ought to stop the bloodsucking pests getting their hands on it because, honestly, it was starting to get ridiculous how many times it was being pulled from his grip.
“Any healing spells you know might help too.” The last thing he needed was a black eye in the morning to top things off. A useable shoulder was rather high priority as well. |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Apr 10, 2009 10:35:39 GMT 1
She couldn’t stop herself from making a shrill sound of surprise and flinched away as the drawers exploded. At the sight of the shredded papers, she was glad she had backups of all Silas’ paperwork. She kept her distance from him then, watching his progress across the office. She knew Silas had a temper on him, but she hadn’t seen it manifest so destructively before. A small part of her mind that wondered how dangerous he could get was screaming a warning but she was in too deep to back out now.
Standing as meekly as much as she was able – which wasn’t a lot, but it was humble nonetheless – she could feel the air practically buzzing with his anger as he passed her to get to the desk. She knew what he was after, and the fact that the pain in his shoulder distracted him from it was a testament to how much that pain was actually affecting him.
Jac flinched again at the flying wastepaper basket and when the door slammed shut, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was flustered, and it took a lot to do that. She was wary when his voice was so calm, and she surveyed him with as close to a neutral expression as she could manage. It was a strange request, but Jac had learnt that it was easier to let him get his own way than question him. “No, Silas. I’ll find out first thing tomorrow.” She felt like she was being lulled into a false sense of security with how calm he was being, but she couldn’t help but fall for it. “I know a few spells.” She replied. Not nearly enough to solve all his wounds but she was hardly going to admit that.
She eased up from her rigid stance and opened the door briefly to Accio a first aid kit. She closed the door quietly and crossed the room without meeting his gaze. Her eyes flickered nervously over him, noticing the damage on his sleeves. “Coat off. Jacket and shirt too.” Her voice was business-like, bored and business-like. The woman didn’t want to give him any cause for another spree of destruction, particularly when she was in the room. She wanted to check his arms in case that those slashes extended deeper than his clothes.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 22, 2009 10:22:21 GMT 1
The impersonal tone Jac opted to take actually worked. It wasn’t enough to stop Silas’s mind from envisioning a million painful deaths for Dacian, but at least he wasn’t blasting the legs off his desk one by one.
Tit for tat: Dacian had put Silas’s shoulder out of action, so Dacian was getting the socket joints on his shoulders magically fused together. Or removed. Yes, removed. Explosively. Dacian could cope with a gaping hole where his shoulder had once been in the few minutes he’d be permitted to live, right? The thought was appeasing.
As Jac moved to get something through the door, Silas regained enough sense of mind to go for the alcohol again with a little more care than last time. Moving his shoulder gingerly, he managed to extract something black from the bottom draw with one hand, then proceeded to not stop drinking until the need to breathe won out again. Nearly drowning himself seemed to be becoming a habit.
It was only after he lowered the bottle that Silas realised Jac had been giving him a visual once over. Ergh, if he looked as bad as he felt it would be better for her to look elsewhere. It wasn’t that Silas was worried about his appearance, more peeved that he’d lost the fight and was bearing the marks to show for it. He’d dealt Dacian enough damage before things had gone south, but it probably didn’t look good from where Jac was standing. It was Edward’s fault. Somehow. Everything was Edward’s fault.
As Jac ordered his clothes off Silas didn’t bother chucking a fuss. Every time he’d ended up shirtless around her it had a habit of ending on a positive note, and besides, the med kit spoke for itself. Silas put the bottle back on the desk and started peeling off the layers of clothing with a slight amount of difficulty. At least nothing was a pullover, which made it easier on the shoulder, and the room was pleasantly warm. The gouges on Silas’s forearms were deeper than he had expected, but the freezing cold meant they hadn’t bled as much as they might have otherwise. That hadn’t stopped the fabric from attempting to lodge itself in the cuts, and Silas only succeeded in starting them oozing blood again as he yanked it loose.
“They’re not curse injuries, if that helps,” Silas grunted, his mind dredging up something from his own limited knowledge on healing spells about magical wounds being harder to reverse with spells. The damage Adrian had done to his hand last month was certainly a testament to that. He was convinced that even though the hideous scarring was gone he’d only regained half the feeling in his last three fingers.
Ergh, reminding himself of that little incident hadn’t been a clever idea. Silas’s face darkened again and he rounded his wand to an empty whiskey glass abandoned on the desk, which promptly shattered, scattering Jac’s sheets with glass. “There. I’m done.” Note to self: office more useful in one piece. |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 5, 2009 0:32:11 GMT 1
The rate at which Silas consumed alcohol was starting to worry the accountant. Surely he’d not be able to drink that much and not be ill? Nevertheless, despite his habits, he never seemed less than mostly sober. Jac suspected he’d act the way he didn’t without the alcohol in his system. She was glad when he put the black somethingorother down, and tried not to stare too much as the upper clothing came off.
His shoulder was obviously in pain, but the lack of sleeves made the slashes visible. The shoulder was darkening, likely into a horrific bruise. There were some puzzling pitted marks, but her concentration was short-lived as a glass exploded. She flinched and barely contained a glare. She very much doubted he wouldn’t break anything else in his foul mood, but she hoped at least it wouldn’t be her. She sighed as looked at the debris scattered around the office. She got the distinct feeling she would be the one clearing this mess up.
“Keep still.” She ordered, wondering if she could detach him from his wand. She would feel a great deal safer. She looked at his forearm first, using a cleaning charm to carefully remove anything in the wounds. From the first aid kit she took a poultice and a bandage and proceeded to smother the wounds with healing salve and dress it with the bandage.
She looked to his bruising shoulder next and scowled. Something littered the wounds, something crystalline that had absorbed the blood seeping from the small wounds. “Is that salt?” She asked, using the came cleaning charm to remove it. She was afraid to ask what sort of person made queer punctures in one’s shoulder and rubbed salt in them. That was crueller than any hex she had perfected. She rubbed the same cooling poultice over his shoulder and checked the rest of him over.
“If that’s it, I’ll look at your eye.” She levitated the chair over and dusted the shards of glass from the exploded tumbler from it with patterns of her wand in the air. “Sit.” There wasn't much she could do for the eye, her magical talents were better suited to causing damage rather than fixing it, but he conjured some ice and wrapped it in some gauze for use in a moment.
How he had got the bizarre set of injuries was likely to remain a mystery for now – she was hardly going to probe when he was in a destructive mood like this. Bringing it up later might not be wise either. She huffed. He only way she would ever find anything out from Silas was if he offered it, and he was not the sort to do anything if it didn’t give him some benefit. Jac was even wondering if she could turn this little favour to her advantage.
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Post by Silas Rosier on May 7, 2009 4:49:39 GMT 1
Jac’s choice of healing instruments was rather unorthodox even for a home remedy kit and Silas found himself frowning as he eyed up the paste. “I didn’t know I needed a vet.” He was sure that poultices were only used on livestock nowadays and that they were for inflammation and swelling, not open wounds as it slowed their healing down. What was Jac trying to do, make him worse? His arm twitched away slightly in discomfort as her fingers got to work on the gashes, but whatever she was using was taking the edge of the pain off, so he didn’t complain. He could always wash it out later.
The shoulder was harder. Even just the simple spell was threatening to send another stab of pain his way and Silas hissed in a breath and tried to pull away again. He wasn’t being the best patient today as he was still agitated. At least the burning had started to lessen without the salt in there to continue aggravating the wound.
Jac’s surprise at finding the rock salt was to be expected, but still irritating. Yes it was salt. What else would it be? He kept quiet, if only because he needed her right now. “Yeah. I’ll be having my meals unsalted now that I know what the cow feels like,” he replied, trying not to wince repeatedly. He just wondered if and when he was going to be forced to explain what had happened.
Okay, that just left the eye. While Jac prepared whatever it was that she was preparing, Silas reached up to feel his face gingerly with his good arm. The socket hurt to the touch and the lid felt swollen, which explained why he couldn’t open it properly. It might have been worse if it hadn’t been for his (admittedly inept) spell work from earlier stopping the progression of any serious bruising. “Isn’t there a tincture or elixir for this?” Silas asked reservedly, accepting the seat that Jac had just cleaned for him and slumping down broodingly. This time he actually sat stiller while she worked, if only because he didn’t want to get jabbed in the eye with something accidentally.
He needed something distracting to get his mind off things. Silas didn’t like concentrating on issues that annoyed him any more than other people did, and the Dacian topic was no exception. Unfortunately the only distraction around had been Jac, and up until less than a week ago she’d only been another astounding nuisance. Both of their combined efforts were likely what had made him so irrevocably bitter over the steady course of the month. It was hard to think back to early November when he’d actually been mostly happy with his life.
Ergh, no thinking. He didn’t want to think.
Silas pulled his gaze up from staring unseeingly into the carpet to check what Jac was up to. She seemed to have finished whatever she was doing and was now pressing something cold into his hand with instructions to hold it up to his eye. No, he had other ideas. There were only few instances where he could get his mind completely off something if only for a while. Lethal amounts of alcohol were one (partly why he’d picked up the habit) and number two, well, on the off chance he couldn’t get away with number two tonight then the booze was always there as a backup. Plus, he might as well channel his pent up energy from the fight into something productive instead of turning Scores into a crater.
As Jac bent down to his level again to inspect his eye, Silas dropped the ice pack to the floor with a dull thud. The free hand came up to caress the back of her neck and he leaned forwards, in an attempt to pull them both into a kiss that perhaps had a bit more fervour than usual. |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 10, 2009 15:24:14 GMT 1
Silas was being irate, though that was no surprise. He grumbled at everything she tried, and had the gall to suggest something else. If he wanted it done his way, he should do it his damn self! “How should I know? I’m just an accountant.” She replied, peering at his swollen eye and wrinkling her nose. It looked painful. She was a logical woman, and she’d never had any interest in healing. It was a low-paid job, and it meant talking to people. Ergh. Perhaps she should have directed him straight to a hospital, but knowing Silas, any idea that wasn’t his own was likely to be rebuffed.
He was generally making her feel jumpy. All that exploding of objects was cause enough for her to wonder if she should get out while she was still in one piece, but she imagined abandoning Silas would incur more wrath. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She grumbled under her breath and palmed the ice pack, pressing it into his hand. “Hold this on your eye, I imagine it should lower the swelling, if not numb the pain.” She bent to stare critically at the swollen eye again, and before she could protest, Silas was demonstrating his famous mood swings.
The woman made a noise of surprise as he caught her, and she hadn’t the leverage to pull back. She was pulled forward, and she used a hand on his good shoulder to keep from falling closer. Coming in beaten and blue was not exactly a turn-on for Jac, and she had abandoned her previous thoughts not long after he had burst into the room. Suddenly confronted with this change in mood, she was at a loss as how to respond.
He was injured, and clearly not in a state for whatever he suddenly had planned. For his sake, she shouldn’t go along with it. She had played along with his demanding nature since their first encounter, and it was about time she asserted herself. Her lips moved with his for a minute, and then knowing it wasn’t the cleverest thing to do, she pushed away in an attempt to stop the unexpected intimacy.
Silas was overly insistent, and she was unable to even break the contact. She felt the slightest flush of panic and after her second resistance was met with more force, her stomach had more than a few Hippogriffs clawing around in there. Her wand was on the desk, she couldn’t reach it, but why should she need it? Silas was obviously just shaken and in need of comforting. His methods were a little unorthodox, but the brunette thought that perhaps she should go along with it if it would make him feel better.
As usual, the kiss led from one thing to another but somewhere in the middle of it all, Jac wondered if he would ever take no for an answer. She was preoccupied enough with that thought that for the first time with Silas, she had to fake it.
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