Feisty Sexta Fiesta! (Open Social)

[Myzaraphiston Synderfell]

Myza would smile widely as Marcelius' face went flush, obviously enjoying herself. It was just adorable from the old Fraccion, as far as she was concerned. God, how long had it been since she had been this comfortable around another person like this? How long had it been since she had been able to lower her guard, remain confident in the fact that the other person she was exposing herself to wouldn't try to harm her? Myza couldn't remember a time since before her death that she had felt this way, and there was no way that she could give it up and not enjoy it.

She would chuckle some at the old man's attempts to deflect her affections, gently tracing a finger up his form up to his shirt collar. "Oh, my dear, dear Marcelius. How I love your reactions," she would say, her voice low and sultry. "But... It seems that I need to make things clearer to you."

The Septima would pull lightly down on his collar, urging him to come down closer to her. If he did so, she would get close to his ear, her lips almost touching him. "I want you," she would whisper, her breath tickling at his ear. "It's been so very long since another has given themselves to me, and I want it." She would let go of the older man after that, gently biting her lower lip. It seemed that there would be no more assumptions that it was a joke by the Septima. She had made her desires to Marcelius crystal clear, and now the ball was in his court.

[Marcelius]

From the beginning of this evening, Marcelius had been a doomed man. That was simply it. Simply doomed. For he brought to this unusual gathering of Hollows, an open and honest personality. Or, as his kin would call it, stupidity. Yes, potent stupidity that kept him from checking himself or what he said. Ignorance to the odd effects that is genuineness might create. That no matter whom he had been saddled with, in the grand scheme of things, he would still have made a fool of himself. Such was his fate. Inescapable, but oddly predictable. Yet, in it's overwhelmingly divine-able status, this outcome had the wizened sod quite dumbstruck. For not amount of insight or calculation would have predicted this. An invitation...of only the most sultry of sorts...from Myzaphiston herself. Hearing her words, tickling his ears, caused tension in all the worst of ways. The nerves were riled, and so the muscles drew tight. Simple biology.

To onlookers, such as the entire freaking party, it would be an inscrutable cold shiver. The kind that runs up the spine. After which his head vision began to dart. Not his eyes, but his mind. Peeking over his shoulders at the crowd which still clamored near by. Each of them causing him stress. From Asuka's solar flare of good vibes, to the coin flip of emotions that defined the Noveno, all the way to the black hole of irritation that was Miho and Rio...much further away. Each word the Espada spoke to him, he felt as though all of these people could hear. It was enough to make the ill-prepared galoot stutter and fumble his thoughts. Certainly it was enough to make him draw closer to Myza, as if somehow he could trap her words between them. Cause, damn. Quoting those more degenerate and plebeian of youths, "this shit be cray". Why would a young woman like the available Espada, ever think of some tired ol scarecrow like he...like that?! Worst still, his mind could not choose it's response! Indecisiveness being the culprit. But, a genuine one. So what were the options? What were the compulsions? What could possibly be delaying his answer to the outright request?

Firstly; ol Marc was not one for that sort of...interaction. While he had aged finely enough, he was still on in years. Having lived long enough now, his desires and interests had taken a big turn away from such delights. Not to mention, his maturity offered him the understanding that he was not desirable in such ways. Not anymore. There were younger men out seeking this sort of thing. Plus he might not have fallen apart, but he still grew tired rather quickly! All around, he could not see any reason...even for a drunkard...to see him as a prize! Secondly; this was an Espada. Reputations aside, there was something inherently wrong with such fraternization between the classes. Even if there were no rules about it, surely there were consequences. The Septima's image would suffer. Others passing about rumors and salacious theories. It would hurt her image, and in turn, her sober self would hurt Marc! Speaking of...

Thirdly! Current mentality. After all, the Septima was...blitzed. There was no hiding it, she giggled. On second thought, that is not a very absolute symptom. But coupling it with slurred words and general, unusual giddiness...and it becomes clear her wits were not about her. So the question rises, "Is this what she really believes, or is the liquor speaking for her?" What happens when the toxins in her blood die down? When the dehydration goes away and the mind falls painfully back into sobriety. With him there, possibly unarmed and unclothed. Bad things. That is what his paranoia and her nickname suggest. Lots of pain and unpleasantry, followed by a scorning from Kuroi. What of Miho or Llusia's disapproval? These were things the ever people-pleasing Fraccion wished to avoid and escape. But finally, the biggest uncertainty and worry. Attraction. Not from the Septima, but within the Fraccion. Marcelius had an attraction towards the Septima since their first encounter. That day, now gone, in the quiet hospital room. He had found her dark hair and stunning looks appealing...no, that is a egregious understatement. The Spanish flower had captivated him with her appearance and personality. She was unnaturally beautiful, more so than most flawless Arrancar might boast. She was a convicted soul, passionate with her ideals and feelings. She resurrected memories of his past, instilling both their charms and their regrets.

It had been a long time since another soul had struck such a cord as she had. Myza seemed possessed by the same distrust that riddled his nightmares. Her life as a Hollow had taught her to reject and rebuff all others. What connections she might have made, might have enjoyed, all denied. It was exactly the sort of thing he had fought so hard to overcome. Wanting more than anything, to bond with another. To feel something besides fear and guilt, just once. With her that chance had lingered, like some distant prize. A challenge to acquire, but worth far more than the struggle once attained. But he was not a soul of sensual persuasions or pursuits. Though the Septima drew out sentiments like that, they had not yet taken hold of him. The idea of them doing so was quite terrifying. What would happen, if he were to be swept up by them? There was no way to be certain. And such was an unneeded twist in the final scenes of his life. All in all...it was a risk his failure ridden past could not dare to take. He was Remorse. Endless defeats had shaped his caution and fueled his insecurity. Turning his own head, the elder Hollow mimicked the trick of his Espada counterpart.

His lips came to her ear. No matter the softness of his speech...she would both hear, and feel, his every word and intention. "Septi...Myza...", the use of her name, quite intimate in nature. More so than any interaction than they have had to date. Sadly, tenderness could not alter his denial. "It is about time you said so...", wait...the fuck? "Even old men do not have endless patience." What was he saying?! "I have seen...what only you have felt. I have known it since your imagination first went wild." This was not the approved script..."You have wanted me to hand myself up to you. To submit myself, ever since you learned I was accepted by the Espada that denied you." Though the remark had the bite of an insult, the voice which spoke it bore no ego or self-righteousness. It was blunt, yet resoundingly humble. "You have wanted to control and overpower me, knowing how good it would feel to assert your superiority." Again, no hint of critique in his tone. "It is only now that you realise; you want me to beg for mercy...and then for more."

The rough quality of his speech seemed all but gone. Though the deepness of his voice still came from his broad chest, it was both smoothed and polished. This was a rare side, one which seemed confident in ways the gentle soul usually suppressed. His words seemed emblazoned with charisma and mystique. What was this alternate side of Marc? "Only now is your imagination constructing delights...ones of the body." Oh, and he could see it all. He was practically swimming in the dynamic field of her aura and Spiritual Pressure. All around him shivered the vibrations of her soul; divulging in similar emotions and sensation, exactly what the Septima dreamed of. He was utterly infused with the overwhelming signals her desires emitted. It was like a poison and a drug, all in one, infecting and altering his conscience. In many the same way, he was as intoxicated as her. Myza's mood had exploited his empathy, and swayed his thoughts. "That title of yours, it has kept me waiting. Waiting, for an invitation." His voice drawing out each syllable, darkly twisting the sound of his speech...leaving those who hear to expect and crave the next word.

"But now...that waiting is over." Moving so his eyes locked with hers, the blue of his eyes darkened with the carnal nature of their conversation. Giving her one final chance to appraise his showing age and demeanor, before continuing. "Fine then, I will carry you back to your palace.", his voice no longer a whisper, "In your condition, I imagine it will be hours before you are walking again." This time had to be intentional. Because then came his smile. It was the same one she had teased before, and was intrigued with before that. It must be odd for a creature of fear and torment, such as the Septima, to see so sweet a smile despite his implicative statement? Maybe odd is not the right word...embarrassing! There it is. Perhaps she could forget about the elder's scarcity of lasting appeal. For his sake, he had better pray for such. Lest he invite the wrath of the Mistress of Pain. Offering to take her up in his arms or simply be a support, the gentleman Fraccion would get the Gargantua for her. The both of them vanishing in the infinite realm of shadows.

[Rio Demonliogalgo]

Unfortunately for Cierro, he would not be succeeding in his final jab at Rio. Cierro had just been struck by one of Rio's shockwaves. Though Rio's unfocused shockwaves were only half as powerful as his focused ones, this meant very little to someone of Cierro's limited capabilities. Cierro could shapeshift into any form he liked, it would make little difference, as taking the shockwave at that range would have shattered virtually every bone in Cierro's body. He may as well have stood in front of a car on the highway. Not only that, the unfortunate Octava would be suffering from severe internal injuries as well, not only from the shockwave, but from the great likelihood that several of the broken ribs he would have undoubtedly incurred might have punctured something. Cierro wasn't in any shape to be so much as standing, let alone playing anymore of his childish pranks. In fact if Cierro was very, VERY lucky, he'd have been knocked unconscious, as, to be conscious in such a state would be to exist in a state of horrifyingly agonizing pain-- something Cierro was hardly good with.

Thus, without the Octava providing an interruption, Rio took a shot from the bottle, Miho offered and then handed it back to her. "You're too green to be thinking of beating me in anything. Aside from maybe running away." He mocked. "You want to outdrink me? Come back in a hundred years." The Quinta continued. Hah. Miho was offering to take down the Espada? What a charming notion. "Sure. If you can take down every fucker behind me, I'll acknowledge you as something a little more than the trash you are." Rio remarked. "Not like you'll ever actually do it though." He pressed, with a sneer, as if just trying to provoke the woman. Rio had more than just a mean streak, and it was only due to the challenge OF a drinking contest, that Rio had yet to smash Miho through the pillar they drank beside. Rio's pride wouldn't allow him until he was deemed the victor, between the two. His stubborn, warrior's pride.

--------------

Col meanwhile was doing his absolute best not to smirk at the woman. How positively amusing. She was all he'd expected of her. Pathetic. Childish, buoyant... oh it was endearing, certainly. But at sizing her up, Col could see she was a woman with many psychological weaknesses that could be exploited. Someone who would snap and shatter if you pushed them even slightly, one way or the other. Her comments as to how she rose to her position only confirmed this, but Col maintained a gentlemanly demeanor, and a somewhat innocent, if not bland smile. The only thing he couldn't disguise were his eyes which still gleamed with that predatory hunger that practically defined the Zarpa of the Escudo.

Ah and then the offer of food. To be truthful, Col had that ravenous hunger, that caused him to want to eat everyone everything here! To partake in a bit of everything the odd leg, someone's head, oh some brain pie would be nice, the cake, and finish it off with some nice wine. Oooo. Wine. That was a wonderfully gentlemanly drink. "I don't suppose you have wine at such a gathering?" Col requested. "I'm quite partial to red, but white is sufficient if none can be found." He pondered a moment. "And if you may be offering food, might there be something hmm... something elegant perhaps? A fine slice of sirloin would be magnificent. Or some fish with sauce? No?" Col asked, looking at Asuka in some disappointment upon the realization that it might not be his kind of party. Erm. Well. His other kind of party. His first kind of party would have everyone here strung up by their nostrils while he dined on their intestines.

"Well, if you cannot succeed in procuring those, may I inquire as to what you do have?" Col asked, not allowing his disappointment, to cloud his gentlemanly demeanor. "And if you are truly short on food, I might always help myself to him, my host permitting." Col offered, gesturing in Cierro's direction. "Or any other guest you may see fit to offer me. I assure you, I am not so very picky. I have refined tastes, but I may set them aside in such an occasion." He continued pleasantly, as though discussing the weather and not the notion of eating Asuka's party guests.

[Deleted]

“Do I look like the type to run away from anything?” she truly wasn’t. Miho had her own pride and stubbornness. The kind that did not bow to anyone. Even if someone was several levels above them, she didn’t bow to them. They didn’t control her. No one did. They couldn’t even hope to try. If Rio thought she would stand down because of her rank, he had another thing coming. Or maybe he already knew? She knew, sometimes, Rio wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Not that he looked bad. Not at all. The man was easy on the eyes and it was something she could appreciate. “That’s disappointing, puppy dog. Thought you knew me better than that. Maybe you’re just that stupid.” Powerful, attractive and violent… he was just stupid. Ridiculously stupid when it came to certain things. It irked her that he couldn’t get past her rank. Well, he’d see how wrong she was. Soon. He’ll see just how wrong he was. Soon. How unfortunate for him.

“Oh I’ll do it.” she nodded her head almost a little excitedly. If it meant making him eat his words then dammit, she fucking will do it! “I’ll do it but I won’t stop there. I have my eyes on Cuarta. Anything in your position and lower isn’t worth a second goddamn look.” As she spoke, she looked him dead in the eyes menacingly before looking at her shot glass. Oh it wasn’t entirely true. Barely. He was just barely worth it. Truthfully, she just wanted to make him mad for fun. He didn’t make her feel so bored so that’s somethin’. She took the shot, waiting a few seconds before reaching for the bottle once again and poured them both another round. “I’d like to think you're my prey, Rio. You just fucking wait and see. That pride of yours will sink so fast you won’t even know it till it hits you.” She snickered wickedly, her eyes leaving her glass to look at him. Her voice was low and her throat felt warm. Though, it was a comfortable, toasty kind of warm that she was no stranger to. It was a feeling she liked.

“That new Cuarta looks like he sucks.... Why haven’t you done anything about that?”

She’d wondered if he was always in this perpetual state of boredom. He couldn’t be THAT bored. He could tear that sorry ass Cuarta apart like paper. Quite frankly, she could relate to his boredom. Spend all your goddamn time like a pent up puppy in a crate and the first thing you wanna do is pee on shit and rip things apart with your canines. She was no dog but when you’re all pent up and on a never-ending quest for trouble, you needed to… ”stretch” every now and then. “I’m looking at you and I know…” she started, pointing a finger at him. “I know you’re just itching for me to put my hands on you so you can try to break me in half. I feel it in my bones.” She would be the only person willing to start a fight with him too. Right here, right now. She really, really wanted to. The only thing stopping her was that she wanted to prove a point. If they started with drinking, she was going to end it and end it like a champ. At the same time while she knew she could put up a fight, she knew she wouldn’t win and that jab he gave her earlier said enough.

“You hit me, I win. Got it, princess?”

---

“W-Wine?” she looked at Col with fear apparent in her wide green eyes and her lip quivered. The hairs on her skin stood. Just the word was enough to scare the living crap out of her. Asuka was afraid of wine. She could tolerate all the other drinks (though, she never drank and made a point to never do so…ever) but wine was completely out of the question. Absolutely not. Not at her party. She looked at the table nervously before looking at him once again, summoning the courage to let him know that she will never fucking ever be in the same room as wine. Never. “There’s no wine here, Col. There never will be. I…aha…..I really, really don’t like wine.” Understatement of the century. It was the death of her family, her friends, former lovers and finally, herself. It was the most memorable thing about her past. There wasn’t a chance in hell she could forget the blood and the screams it evoked.

“We’re not going to mention it again, okay?”

Her voice was steely and her expression hardened for a fraction of a second. It was in her eyes that she’d truly see that on this particular subject, she was not to be tested. Asuka meant serious business. She wasn’t going to let anyone push her but when it came to wine, it brought out the worst in her. Ah, fear was truly a powerful motivator. It drove man to insanity and agony and when it was all over, that’s when it gets worse. You have pieces to pick up but you don’t want to. You’re just left to stare at what you’ve done and reflect on what happened. It didn’t go away. It was a recurring nightmare for the Sexta. Asuka shook her head very much like a puppy would shake the water off its back. This was no time to be thinking about sad stuff like that! This was her party and even though she could cry if she wanted to, she wouldn’t. Not only would that suck but she always got a massive headache after she was done. That was no bueno.

“Uhm…What’s a sirloin? Is that a type of elephant!?” she asked with child-like wonder, moving closer to him and bouncing up and down excitedly like a child. “I love elephants! They have huuuuuge noseies and big floppy ears and you can ride ‘em! Have you ever gotten a ride from one!? I named mines Pickle. I don’t have one but when I saw one once , I told him I liked the name Pickle and he gave me a hug with his trunk on my face! ..Really hard! Kind of hurt! …A lot…” It was slowly sinking in that maybe Pickle didn’t want to be called Pickle and she looked at Col confused and slightly upset at this realization. She actually started to pout adorably, almost looking at him teary eyed. Reality hurts. It’s like someone took a sock full of butter and whacked her in the face. Butter was good but only on popcorn. Anywhere else and it’s super weird. What if blonde people colored their hair with butter? Maybe Marcelius was a butter head. He had yellow hair and butter was yellow… Hm. She’d have to ask him one day!

Oh wait! He was hungry! “Oh! We have fish sticks! Those are yummy!” Asuka squealed joyously she picked up a platter or fish sticks with some kind of spicy sauce in a tiny bowl in the middle. She picked one up and instantly shoved it at his mouth. “It’s really good!…Oh! Hey Iraishin! Here try one!!” she moved the platter towards the younger girl and while she did so, she noticed the girl was visibly angry. Almost had a scary look on her face. “Iraishin? Is everything alright?” she asked her, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s head wanting to calm her down. She was staring daggers at Col and Asuka found herself looking back and forth between the very mysterious, fancy Col and the pretty little arrancar twin Iraishin. She had to move on! Sort of! “I’ve also got… uhm…Oh! There’s chicken covered in Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms over there! We haaave.. Thanksgiving in a Cup!” She used her free hand to show Col an atrocious little meal in a little styrofoam cup that had turkey, gravy, corn, cranberry, stuffing and green veggies stuffed in it. It smelled good!…The appearance was just terrible. 0/10 would set on fire.

"Hey, Col? Why haven't I seen you before. Are you new here too?" she asked making conversation with her hungry party guest. Gosh he was so mysterious! She got a real powerful vibe from him too. He had to have been here for a while but she can't recall ever seeing him here Las Noches. So, she had to ask!

---

Meanwhile, Li Mei found herself caught by Cierro… At least for a moment. ”Hey slick, no touchy.” Li Mei remembered. Cierro had tricked Asuka out of her clothes once using Li Mei’s appearance and it was something that made her very disappointed with Cierro. Maybe he learned this time? She wasn’t sure. He seemed nice. Little did Li Mei know… that’s how it always was. Ignorance really was bliss, especially for this little bird who just saw sunlight and rainbows in just about everything she looked at.

She looked at Shiryou like a hero. She was exactly like a comic book hero! Coming to her rescue from this nice man named Slick! Was Slick Cierro’s real name? Maybe Slick was disabled and needed help feeding himself? Oh! Shiryou was helping him! That was really nice! Li Mei didn’t know what a “raging sex crazy hormone raging man” was, but she was sure it was debilitating and probably harmed Slick. He was going to need all the help he could get. Though…Shiryou looked oddly angry but she wasn’t sure why. Li Mei just stood there quietly and blinked and nodded occasionally, supporting Shiryou in her quest for justice. She was admirable for sure. The way she spoke out without a single stutter was inspiring for little miss red here.

“T-Thank you, Shiryou-chan. I apologize f-for any inconvenience. I think Slick-san m-might actually be sick b-but I d-don’t know…” She smiled shy as the slobbering twin before bowing deeply. She thought Shiryou was a hero and she though Slick aka. Cierro was genuinely sick. Li Mei didn’t understand sex joke or get them right away. Virginal angel was her title for a reason. "If I may ask, Shiryou-chan…Uhm…Uh…H-How are you and your s-sister liking Las N-Noches so far?” She asked with a hopeful smile. It seemed as though Li Mei was completely unaware of the evils of this place. It was a luxury she had courtesy of her superior and her protective ways over her fraccion. Asuka looked after many like they were her own. Li Mei hoped they liked Las Noches. The more people here the merrier!