Kari wasn't going to be on Osiris for long. He'd come here for a job, and that job had been completed three days prior. Now he was just waiting for the authorities to rule the official cause of death “accident,” and he could pick up his extra money and head... ...somewhere.
He'd been witness to the terrible accident, but only one of several traumatized young people who'd seen the cyborg fall to his rather violent, grisly death. They were all in shock, seeing a man--for a loose definition of the word--be impaled like that. Falling onto a statue’s pike! Horrifying. He would have survived the fall easily if not for the force of gravity impaling him through the stomach so forcefully that his metal scraping against the plasteel pike had made sparks rain down on the horrified observers. Brutal. Sickening to behold.
So tragic that his jets had failed...
Of course, the girl he'd raped and her extremely vengeful father were less upset, but that could be understood, under the circumstances.
It was a big job for a small price, but it had been satisfying. He didn't normally take jobs that were essentially just assassination, not really. He still tried to play it a bit safer than that. But the line between mercenary and assassin was already extremely thin, and this had been a good cause. And it had given him an excuse to see Osiris! He'd been enjoying himself these last three days, but not as much as he would have liked, having to play the role of traumatized tourist. So he'd taken a risk, as he was wont to do, and asked around a bit for a place to drink where the authorities never came. A few names had been floated. One of which had been Farendajo.
He was there now, idly sipping a fruity sort of bright pink cocktail that had been served to him by a pretty little number with purple fur and stripes. He enjoyed things that were pink... like, for instance, his dress. That was the risky part of this little venture, but all those trousers and masculine shirts had been making him want to tear his own skin off.
Even just sitting alone at the bar, nursing a pink drink in a pink dress while wearing pink heels... he felt healed. Like he'd shed an uncomfortable burden.
He'd really dressed up, too, sweet and dollfaced in enough makeup to look like barely any at all, lips a delicate, glistening pink that he might use to convince a lucky patron for a coat closet tryst, if anyone caught his eye. He'd pulled his long, blonde hair back in ponytails, and given them a wide, looping curl for bounce. Painted nails clinked idly against his glass as his eyes scanned the bar.
It was a shockingly nice place, given that he'd come here only because he'd been told officers of the law did not. For once, his beauty wasn't wasted on his surroundings. That being said, there weren't a great deal of people, and none of them were alone. Made it hard to spot someone for a good time, and the bartender, while simply adorable, was very much not his type. She seemed as simple minded as it was possible to be before hitting vegetable. Cute, yes, but hardly attractive.
He did sort of idly want to pet her, though.
Instead, he took another long sip of his drink and sighed. It would be nice just to have a night off, even if his vices were limited. At least he knew he was damn cute, even if he lacked for anyone else telling him so, preferably in a breathy sort of voice with their fingers clenched into his hair.
One bad decision at a time. Putting on a pretty pink mini dress and fuck me heels was all the bad decision he really needed for one night. The rest could wait for another spaceport, one where he wasn't a primary witness in an accidental death. For now, he would sit and drink and be satisfied in his own appearance.
He'd been witness to the terrible accident, but only one of several traumatized young people who'd seen the cyborg fall to his rather violent, grisly death. They were all in shock, seeing a man--for a loose definition of the word--be impaled like that. Falling onto a statue’s pike! Horrifying. He would have survived the fall easily if not for the force of gravity impaling him through the stomach so forcefully that his metal scraping against the plasteel pike had made sparks rain down on the horrified observers. Brutal. Sickening to behold.
So tragic that his jets had failed...
Of course, the girl he'd raped and her extremely vengeful father were less upset, but that could be understood, under the circumstances.
It was a big job for a small price, but it had been satisfying. He didn't normally take jobs that were essentially just assassination, not really. He still tried to play it a bit safer than that. But the line between mercenary and assassin was already extremely thin, and this had been a good cause. And it had given him an excuse to see Osiris! He'd been enjoying himself these last three days, but not as much as he would have liked, having to play the role of traumatized tourist. So he'd taken a risk, as he was wont to do, and asked around a bit for a place to drink where the authorities never came. A few names had been floated. One of which had been Farendajo.
He was there now, idly sipping a fruity sort of bright pink cocktail that had been served to him by a pretty little number with purple fur and stripes. He enjoyed things that were pink... like, for instance, his dress. That was the risky part of this little venture, but all those trousers and masculine shirts had been making him want to tear his own skin off.
Even just sitting alone at the bar, nursing a pink drink in a pink dress while wearing pink heels... he felt healed. Like he'd shed an uncomfortable burden.
He'd really dressed up, too, sweet and dollfaced in enough makeup to look like barely any at all, lips a delicate, glistening pink that he might use to convince a lucky patron for a coat closet tryst, if anyone caught his eye. He'd pulled his long, blonde hair back in ponytails, and given them a wide, looping curl for bounce. Painted nails clinked idly against his glass as his eyes scanned the bar.
It was a shockingly nice place, given that he'd come here only because he'd been told officers of the law did not. For once, his beauty wasn't wasted on his surroundings. That being said, there weren't a great deal of people, and none of them were alone. Made it hard to spot someone for a good time, and the bartender, while simply adorable, was very much not his type. She seemed as simple minded as it was possible to be before hitting vegetable. Cute, yes, but hardly attractive.
He did sort of idly want to pet her, though.
Instead, he took another long sip of his drink and sighed. It would be nice just to have a night off, even if his vices were limited. At least he knew he was damn cute, even if he lacked for anyone else telling him so, preferably in a breathy sort of voice with their fingers clenched into his hair.
One bad decision at a time. Putting on a pretty pink mini dress and fuck me heels was all the bad decision he really needed for one night. The rest could wait for another spaceport, one where he wasn't a primary witness in an accidental death. For now, he would sit and drink and be satisfied in his own appearance.
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Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-16-2017, 08:26 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-16-2017, 08:27 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 04-20-2017, 10:32 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 04-20-2017, 11:36 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 05-07-2017, 03:14 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-07-2017, 12:02 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 05-09-2017, 12:47 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-09-2017, 01:04 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 11-26-2018, 10:32 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 11-26-2018, 11:50 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 02-09-2019, 01:42 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 02-09-2019, 03:27 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 02-25-2019, 07:14 AM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 02-25-2019, 07:24 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by Tindome - 10-18-2019, 02:31 PM
RE: Night Out [Closed] - by SolitareLee - 10-18-2019, 06:38 PM