[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/KKNXj4H.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]This can't be real life.
Was this honestly the best the Vereaux clan could do? A boring ass tea garden in the middle of the fucking park? This was their, so to speak, base of operations? If not for a strong will power, one, Providence Lyon Vereaux, would have palmed his features then and there. But the Fae had a strong sense of pride: a vice that he himself knew could be his downfall. If not Kismet, then the weight of carrying his mother's legacy was on his shoulders and he wished not to disappoint despite the rumors that surrounded Chance Arden. Yes, that fucking bitch. That bitch who created him with features of his faggot incubus father despite the well known commandment to never lay with the succubi/incubi. And despite his nobility, Providence had this strange perception that he'd been treated differently and did not get the respect he deserved like his fucking slut cousin, Ki. The so called "prodigy" as she sits comfortably in her fucking tower of dashing elegance, wasting her days with her hair sprawled out the window so her many lovers could climb and cum on her already cum-stained lips.
That is, before she could ramble on about her worthless china trimmed in fifteen karats of gold with birds that symbolized yaddy-yaddy-ya and blah blah blah bullshit. Honestly, Providence sometimes imagined she'd shut the fuck up and present her whore mouth for this king's fat cock. His delusions weren't so far off. Maybe with enough charm and bloodshed, that fantasy could turn into a reality. It's about time he did too, lips parting into a toothy grin as he looked on toward the establishment he was ready to fuck up.
Wasting no further time, the Fae continued along the path towards the main entrance where he expected Ki's mindless slaves servants were waiting for his arrival. Or anyone's for that matter. Providence was almost positive customer service was a high-priority from keeping anyone saying anything ill about The Sleeping Hunter. Because behind the glamoured shit Ki and her staff shoved down your throat, whether it was to your liking or not, one had to question whether the tea garden was as perfect as it appeared. Humans tend to think so, but anybody of the supernatural could see pass it. At least, anyone with a half a fucking brain. Just how many people did Ki have wrapped around her dainty, little fingers? How many cocks had she need jerked to keep everyone happy? How many people played her games and not force the bitch into submission? It amused Providence to no end imaging himself in that fucking tower, sitting on a throne of gold as the false prodigy sat on the floor beside with a stroke to his inner-thighs and gaze of pure lust.
And who was there to stop him? He had no Watcher to tell him no, no power to chase him off, or any obstacle too high he couldn't jump. The world was to his mercy and he had every intention of claiming it all for himself.
His train of thought came to an halt when the Fae was nearly struck by a cab racing down the same path he'd been on, catching just a few swears he repeated and questioned himself. "That stuck-up, redheaded bitch...?" Who could the cab driver be referring to he thought, shifting his stare toward the gardens just a few hundred yards out. Providence hurried along to see what the driver's fuss about, reaching the entrance to an awaiting man who gave the Vereaux a bow before softly asking,
"Good afternoon, sir. Can I interest you in taking your bag?"
Predictable.
"No the fuck you can't. You can however get me something to eat. I'll be waiting in the tea house." Tugging the duffelbag over his shoulder, Chance's kin observed the decorations and so in his short travel through emitted hallways and floral before ascending a flight of stairs loudly to alert everyone of his presence. His boots toppled the final step to an open door where he paused to take in the appearance of two beautiful women.
Providence did not sense any attitude in the woman holding her hand out for a greeting, so that "stuck up, redheaded bitch" must have been the other one. And my, oh, my, did she have an ass he pictured looked great in a pencil skirt. Was this real life? Whatever you do, don't pinch him as he pulled down his shades slightly so his tri-colored hues could peer just over the rim. A mixture of azure, grey, and lavender that swirled with every bit of ulterior motives.
Ki could wait. He had other games he wished to play first.
"Well, hello beautifuls..."
Was this honestly the best the Vereaux clan could do? A boring ass tea garden in the middle of the fucking park? This was their, so to speak, base of operations? If not for a strong will power, one, Providence Lyon Vereaux, would have palmed his features then and there. But the Fae had a strong sense of pride: a vice that he himself knew could be his downfall. If not Kismet, then the weight of carrying his mother's legacy was on his shoulders and he wished not to disappoint despite the rumors that surrounded Chance Arden. Yes, that fucking bitch. That bitch who created him with features of his faggot incubus father despite the well known commandment to never lay with the succubi/incubi. And despite his nobility, Providence had this strange perception that he'd been treated differently and did not get the respect he deserved like his fucking slut cousin, Ki. The so called "prodigy" as she sits comfortably in her fucking tower of dashing elegance, wasting her days with her hair sprawled out the window so her many lovers could climb and cum on her already cum-stained lips.
That is, before she could ramble on about her worthless china trimmed in fifteen karats of gold with birds that symbolized yaddy-yaddy-ya and blah blah blah bullshit. Honestly, Providence sometimes imagined she'd shut the fuck up and present her whore mouth for this king's fat cock. His delusions weren't so far off. Maybe with enough charm and bloodshed, that fantasy could turn into a reality. It's about time he did too, lips parting into a toothy grin as he looked on toward the establishment he was ready to fuck up.
Wasting no further time, the Fae continued along the path towards the main entrance where he expected Ki's mindless slaves servants were waiting for his arrival. Or anyone's for that matter. Providence was almost positive customer service was a high-priority from keeping anyone saying anything ill about The Sleeping Hunter. Because behind the glamoured shit Ki and her staff shoved down your throat, whether it was to your liking or not, one had to question whether the tea garden was as perfect as it appeared. Humans tend to think so, but anybody of the supernatural could see pass it. At least, anyone with a half a fucking brain. Just how many people did Ki have wrapped around her dainty, little fingers? How many cocks had she need jerked to keep everyone happy? How many people played her games and not force the bitch into submission? It amused Providence to no end imaging himself in that fucking tower, sitting on a throne of gold as the false prodigy sat on the floor beside with a stroke to his inner-thighs and gaze of pure lust.
And who was there to stop him? He had no Watcher to tell him no, no power to chase him off, or any obstacle too high he couldn't jump. The world was to his mercy and he had every intention of claiming it all for himself.
His train of thought came to an halt when the Fae was nearly struck by a cab racing down the same path he'd been on, catching just a few swears he repeated and questioned himself. "That stuck-up, redheaded bitch...?" Who could the cab driver be referring to he thought, shifting his stare toward the gardens just a few hundred yards out. Providence hurried along to see what the driver's fuss about, reaching the entrance to an awaiting man who gave the Vereaux a bow before softly asking,
"Good afternoon, sir. Can I interest you in taking your bag?"
Predictable.
"No the fuck you can't. You can however get me something to eat. I'll be waiting in the tea house." Tugging the duffelbag over his shoulder, Chance's kin observed the decorations and so in his short travel through emitted hallways and floral before ascending a flight of stairs loudly to alert everyone of his presence. His boots toppled the final step to an open door where he paused to take in the appearance of two beautiful women.
Providence did not sense any attitude in the woman holding her hand out for a greeting, so that "stuck up, redheaded bitch" must have been the other one. And my, oh, my, did she have an ass he pictured looked great in a pencil skirt. Was this real life? Whatever you do, don't pinch him as he pulled down his shades slightly so his tri-colored hues could peer just over the rim. A mixture of azure, grey, and lavender that swirled with every bit of ulterior motives.
Ki could wait. He had other games he wished to play first.
"Well, hello beautifuls..."
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