[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]skin prickles beneath a gaze, mild goosebumps rising despite the comfortable temperature. and where he pauses, she smiles. something about being looked over head to toe leaves satisfaction lingering long after his attention has shifted. "too long, indeed," she echoes the sentiment as he joins her side. it's easy to swivel the bar stool back to where it was, hips shifting and legs settling back beneath the bar's counter. "should i consider that good or bad?" a soft chuckle fans out a moment later. one hand rises to run through newly blonde hair, leaving it slightly tousled in the process. it's classic drag yourself out of the hole and get your shit together behavior for her. besides, she had never been too attached to the darkness of her hair. change is good, change is healthy, right?

ah, good, another drink. ever the gentleman, this remiel. and yet, he almost feels foreign to her now, as if he's a whole new person and she has to relearn him all over again. time has eroded bits of their familiarity. she knows him as a concept now, a past self kept in memories of old times where the biggest concern they had was diving in the sea. some days, she wishes for that simplicity back. some days, she wonders if he does too.

"i'm sorry to hear that," she murmurs, meeting his eye and holding steady. another change. "hopefully things settle soon." curiosity rises at the thought of things he's faced, things he's seen. problems have a habit of following people around but the ambassador is as calm and collected as she remembers. the weight of the world leaves his shoulders unscathed.

the dreaded question rises and she pauses. consideration lingers in her mind, in the way her body shifts almost uncomfortably in her seat. does she open that file for him to read? does she keep it hidden beneath vague lies? the remaining quarter of her drink acts as a lifeline, distracting her from answering as she finishes the rest and slides the empty glass back to its home.

"things have been manageable," it almost sounds believable. her eyes look to find his again, a wry smile making its way onto her lips. "unless you've seen the headlines." the reports of what happened follow her around like a ghost. they leave a bitter taste in her mouth now, one she seeks to wash down with the burn of alcohol. and in an effort to deflect to a different topic than herself, she leans toward him, planting an elbow on the bar and resting her chin on the back of a hand. "so, what's the agenda for tonight, remiel? drinking to decompress or to forget?" aka how deep are they about to get? her legs shift in anticipation of an answer, one brushing against his leg in the process.

Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]change has always been inevitable. in a world where things unfold in the blink of an eye, you either adapt or die. so far, she's still kicking so the only option left is change. sure, it didn't have to be so drastic but can you blame her? it had been a miracle for her to survive as long as she did with how utterly naive she had been. innocence can be good, yes, but at what point does a lamb wake up and realize it's heading for the slaughter? that naivety, that innocence has been carefully filed away in a box of old personality traits left to collect dust in the corners of a clever mind. replaced with confidence, with a new hunger for the things she had held herself back from.

illeana reyes had always wanted to be more and now, she'll be everything she had ever imagined.

"oh, do you now?" it's teasing, paired with an easy smirk. enough to border flirtatious, enough to test boundaries she doesn't care for. how deep are the lines drawn in sand? winds threaten to erode away at them until there's nothing but loose sand. "actually, you are. you should be honored." laughter escapes moments later, half doused in alcohol and mostly covered in amusement. is it herself or is it the concept that he'd ever be honored over something concerning her? she can't tell.

there's a moment where she can settle into silence. comfortably, even while holding his gaze. no judgement, no prying. she's grateful, even if she doesn't breathe it into the air around them. there's no pressure to spill her guts to him. not yet, anyway. ask again after three more drinks and she'll be an open book for him to thumb through.

he meets her lean with ease, not shying away and not shifting back. it brings a quirk to her lips, almost bordering on devilish yet ambiguous enough to be dangerous. the bartender arrives with their drinks and attention shifts to the welcome sight of more alcohol. "gonna make me wait that long?" another tease, even as a hand already reaches for her drink.

where he stirs, watching the mixed concoction swirl about its container, she is not as patient. the drink is easily thrown back and the clinking of glass comes with a satisfying burn in the back of the throat. her eyes return to his in time to see the raise of a brow, amusement leaking into the movement. she meets amusement with a challenge. head tilting slightly to one side, lips spreading into something downright saucy. definitely more to the question, thinly veiled between the lines. she doesn't bother to clarify.

she'll watch the movement with his straw for a moment before raising a hand to signal another. it'll take a few moments for another glass to return. "that's a lot to get caught up on, remiel." a pause, a consideration. and then, another challenge. "are you sure you're ready for this after that train wreck of a meeting?" is there something to be alluded to? yes, absolutely. is it the drinking or something else? he'll find out just as much as she will. almost like an afterthought, she laughs and adds, "although, you did agree to meet me in the first place. did you know what you were getting into?"

Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]”now is that due to the drink or the company?” she asks as if she already knows the answer and simply needs him to reaffirm it. perhaps that’s why her lips spread and pull into a smile, feigned innocence struggling to stay in place. ”would you prefer me to test you?” head tilting, keeping up appearances as if she doesn’t quite grasp what he’s alluding to.

she didn’t expect him to save face. quite the opposite, actually. the answer confirms an inkling and naturally, she runs with it. her eyes drop to watch him skewer a cherry, tongue darting out for a moment to run across dry lips and then retreat away. too much trouble to ask for the cherry before he bleeds it dry, right? maybe her next drink will come with her own. ”interesting,” she murmurs quietly, head slightly tilted to one side as if her mind is juggling a few remarks with no inclination as to which one she’ll usher out next. she flashes a daring smile, then, with the notion that she decided. ”i have to admit, remiel, i’m awfully curious. since you didn’t know what you were getting into, did that curiosity drive you to say yes to meeting me?” a pause, a chance to deliberate before continuing. she’ll press on with an amused grin, even going so far as to slightly press back into his orbit. ”or was it something else?”

fire meets fire, a challenge rising between two parties willing to test the chances. a game she’s certain she’ll lose but at least she’s putting up a fight. the bartender finally returns with a drink in between their conversation and for a moment, she ignores the presence in favor of fixing remy with a charming smile. ”maybe that’s what i wanted all along,” she chimes, letting out an amused bout of laughter. it dies out within a moment, attention shifting when he points the straw in her direction. would he mind if she just casually stole the cherry? maybe. she decides against worrying about that, however. merely licking her lips and letting her eyes wander back to his before she swipes the fruit away with a quick motion. she’ll wave it at him before popping it in her mouth and grinning. ”don’t worry, it’ll take at least three or four more before your carrying services will be needed.”

Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]the ghost of a smirk, the narrowing of eyes, all confirmations she greedily swallows up in the pursuit for a response. should she expect him to spell it out for her? no, that wouldn’t be half as satisfying or fun. besides, there’s something thrilling about the opportunity to press buttons and see what exactly makes him tick.

deliberation allows her to order a new drink, attention ebbing and flowing back into place with the rise and fall of a hand. it gives him time to glance away, time escaping him in the form of forward advances on her own part. the smile he flashes keeps her going, keeps her pressing for the right spot to make it dangerous. ”good answer,” she winks, letting a soft giggle escape.

”paying attention to me instead of the meeting?” she clucks her tongue and shakes her head in mock disapproval, given away by the amused upward twist of her lips. ”well, here you are, providing very good company i definitely was in need of.” she stresses the need on purpose, sprinkling a bit of desire and heat into the word like a chef seasoning a meal. hunger keeps her attentive, keeps her nerves on high alert with that tingling anticipation.

goosebumps rise beneath the weight of his eyes. he’s unashamed, slow and languid in the way his gaze roams her body. it sends a shiver down her spine the longer it goes on, as if every inch of her body is heating up with electricity. and as if to make the playing board even, as if to subject him to the same pleasing torment, she shifts on purpose. head tilting mildly to one side, blonde hair falling over a shoulder to reveal bare skin. legs uncrossing only to recross, skirt rising with movement and never tugged down. she’ll watch him for a reaction of his own, lips spreading into a sultry smile in the process.

distractions are welcome, needed, embraced with greedy arms. she has long since been stewing in emotions she dreads. grief, pain, heartbreak, rage, disgust. it all melds together in one pot to produce a living nightmare and it’s one she’s forced to endure daily. the scars of what happened aren’t as noticeable as the ones littering her body. they lay hidden beneath the surface, laced into layers of the brain and peppered throughout daily happenings. a familiar smell, a song, a single sentence, a head of green hair. she’s long since grown accustomed to being haunted by the loss. unfortunately, it’s not just the loss of love that plagues her either.

the severing of an avatar bond follows her like a grim ghost. a reminder of failure clings to her skin like the familiar pink scales she used to wield. it’s funny, she misses the comforting presence of tapu lele more than anything. alexander’s death has healed in bits and pieces but the abandonment of her avatarship stings more than she’d like to admit. it’s easier to accept alex had been out of her control, somehow more comforting than painful. she had done everything she could with tapu lele during the war, however, and it still wasn’t enough.

another drink comes and her thoughts keep her drinking, keep her swallowing down liquor like it’s the only thing that can drown her thoughts anymore. the unfortunate part about demons is they always know how to goddamn swim. like they have stupid pool noodles or something, keeping them from dying out.

thankfully, remiel is the perfect example of a welcome distraction. much like the drinks she keeps knocking back, she’ll use him as a crutch to keep herself from crumbling. finding comfort in his presence is easy but she’s coming to realize there’s a theory settling in. something more will come from a simple distraction and while she’s not a gambling woman, she’d put most if not all of her money on that theory coming to fruition.

his chuckle makes her grin a little wider. cherry stained lips spreading with victory, dipped in flirtation and left to shine. ”you’ve always been a gentleman. it’s charming, really,” comes as half a purr, just enough to drive her point further. she might be a little drunk by now but definitely not enough to miss the way his eyes travel. amusement rises as her bait is recognized but not taken. ”it isn’t.” short, sweet, promising something more. she’ll up the anty with a wink and a signal for another round for each. ”you’ll find out each reason later.”

Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]the bartender is privy to their dance. it's hard not to be, really. the air around them might be light and playful but there's a musky undertone to it, lust simmering just beneath the surface. he cleans glasses to not disturb them, to stay pure and innocent on the other side of the bar. he'll start her next drink in a few moments, allowing enough time for them to continue.

satisfaction shifts between them. first him, with bordering predatory eyes drinking in a tremble and then her, with the widening spread of lips into something devilish. the flush of his cheeks, the way one leg bounces, the lingering gaze on her skin. she's torn between amusement and pure hunger, existing in both in the end. electricity sizzles between them, attraction gathering like a bundle of energy with no where to go. no outlet, no path besides higher and higher until it reaches a breaking point.

at the moment, she's not certain who will up the ante first.

while he works through the first half of his drink, she lowers a hand to strum fingers against the skin of her thigh. excitement, perhaps, or anxiety. it's difficult to tell the exact cause. maybe even the need to move, to release some of the pent up energy burning through her nerves. she doesn't get a moment to guess, however, as her attention shifts and the thrumming of fingers becomes white noise.

"charmer? me?" another show of feigned innocence, half believable at best. if he had murmured that exact sentence to her before, she would have absolutely denied it. now? there's no denying it. only the beginning of a cheshire cat smile bleeding into her expression. her eyes dart to the swirling cherry and involuntarily, she's swiping her tongue across her lips again before finally raising her gaze back to meet his. "you've always imagined that, hm?" he makes it too easy and she's happy to take the bait. illeana shifts into his personal bubble, purposely closing more distance. her voice drops to a whisper and she stops at his ear. "what, have you been having dreams about me, remiel?"

she'll relinquish the close proximity, then, and shift back into her seat. his move, even if she continues to answer his question. by now, the bartender has returned with another drink for her and whisked back away to the end of the bar. she leaves the full drink to sit, her attention occupied. "if they do, would they match yours?" curiosity, lost time, thoughts of what could have been and what could be again all bundled into one simple invitation to the bar. he's mostly hit the nail on the head but what fun would it be if she just told him? maybe instead, she'll show him.

after all, she can put on quite the show.

her fingers still on the skin of her thigh for a moment before her hand is rising and easily snatching his abandoned cherry from the empty glass. she pops it into her mouth and pulls the stem out. funny story, she has only just recently learned how to tie that little stem. it's discarded in his empty glass and her new drink is finally plucked from the counter. "well, evolution is my specialty. it's only natural to evolve myself. lambs become lions and all that, right?" a pause, a sip for once. it tastes better in smaller quantities but she's not drinking for taste tonight. a warning or a promise, she can't tell. it's lost on her and she'll take another sip to wash it down, returning the glass half full to the counter. it's safe to say she's tired of gentle. it no longer suits her. "you act as though i'm gentle myself," never again. "you could do your worst if you'd like to test that theory." she meets his eyes head on, head slightly tilting. a challenge, an invitation, left for him to decide.

Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]"i intend to," she doesn't leave room for him to question, argue, dismiss. there's no doubt in her mind that he would, anyway, but she's not chancing it. not now, not when stars and planets align at just the right space in time. two paths drawn back together for a night, for something she had believed gone. interesting, if she really stopped to think about it. she doesn't, however.

instead, her head becomes empty, no thoughts, at the sight of his expression.

where he is hungry, she is smug. proud of her work, as if his response alone is enough to fuel her ego for the night. it isn't but he knows that it'll take more to satisfy her. another round comes and surprisingly, she waits this time around. watching, settling into the role of predator observing prey. he plucks the glass up and she stares, eyes dropping to a hand around a glass. oof. it's bad to want to be a glass right? just checking...

the bartender leaves once being paid, a bow going mostly unnoticed. her eyes are drawn to the movement like a cat but quickly snapped back into place. her skin tingles beneath electric eye contact. it leaves her tilting her head, an invitation unspoken and laid in the crook of a neck. her lips spread into a smirk, tongue darting out to slowly swipe across cherry stained lips.

"is that surprising?" an amused chuckle follows, as if the thought of her devolving is a joke. there's only one way to go and it's up. up past that which has held her back, up past expectations and made-up concepts of her old self, up to his room even. prey becomes predator and that's when the real fun begins. "it's easy when that's the only option you have," a glass is plucked from the counter. liquid swirls at the movement, splashing slightly. "though, i'm awfully curious how i could be a game-changer." then again, how couldn't she be?

she's coming for every single thing that has been taken from her, whether the world is ready or not. the thought lingers as they toast, as she fixes him with an expression that's fit for a conqueror, fit for a queen. neither drink lasts long and, seemingly, neither does the conversation.

her mouth opens to respond and all of the words die out in her throat. he laughs, he moves, and he touches her. sure, it's pg, fingers running beneath her chin to tilt her head up. and yet, her entire body feels like it's lit on fire. every nerve, every atom responding to the close proximity, to the feeling of his hand on her skin. it leaves a shiver running down the spine, goosebumps rising instantly. she bites back a whine, if only to save face.

"what, are you gonna punish me if i don't?" despite her body's craving for more, she still presents a challenge both in words and in the carnal expression she wears. it's easily wiped away, however, with the tracing of her face, with how tender his touch is. any hint of being difficult dies out to be replaced by need. god, it's gross how easily she becomes putty in the hands of men. and yet, she'll willingly place herself there each and every time.

okay, he's teasing her. unfortunately -- actually, fortunately -- for him, she bites back.

"that's forward of you, remiel," comes purring out and she's pairing it with the beginning of legs uncrossing in response to his fingers finding their home on her thigh. just where they belong, she comes to understand when his hand flattens against her skin. "it's kinda cute you think we'll be paying attention to the view." he knows as well as she that the view is absolutely not out of the windows. no, it's in the bed.

she abandons empty glasses and the comfort of a bar stool to stand, to seek his hand with her own. she'll lead, expecting him to follow. so much so that she doesn't bother to give an answer or wait for him to move. she begins the saunter to the elevators, skirt slightly rising with each swivel of hips.

Remiel Calcifet