[attr="class","gia i"]is this the part where she bares whatever fangs she has and hisses? probably. will she? no, where's the fun in that?

a genger's grin is met with a cheshire cat smile, with another flick of a whip until it snaps back against pavement. "where's the fun in that?" she's languid in her movements, as if she wants to savor the act of circling like a predator would prey. except it's difficult to tell which role each one of them plays.

another laugh escapes her and perhaps she should consider becoming a ribbon dancer or whip dancer or what have you with the way the red leather weapon coils. like a snake before a strike or a cat before a pounce.

"looks like you're gonna have to work for it," it's taunting and they both know it. the luxray drifts closer as his gabite joins the makeshift group. snarls rise in volume until shackles raise like pin missiles on a dark body. and while she'd hate to get her hands dirty, she's merely keeping up appearances at this point just as he is. the smile she wears widens into something ferocious before both cats are slinking forward. will he strike first or will she? should she actually try this time? or merely waste more time until the goods are hauled off... she almost wonders which option will provide a bigger reward, a bigger thrill.

perhaps they're about to find out.

[attr="class","gia i"]two alley cats making their way out of a bar, one satisfied and the other hungrier by the minute.

she's proudly wearing a wicked grin that sprouted right about the moment she realized he's quick to follow. promises of quite the night and the sway of hips can really do a man in, huh? while he busies himself with his phone, she takes the opportunity to stretch as she goes. stalls aren't the comfiest of places... even with arching her back in an attempt to yank some tension out of muscles, it'll still be felt in the morning. another bullet point on the growing list, even if it's less favorable than the others.

he draws her back in with the brush of skin against skin. it's like a machine humming back to life, her nerves almost pulsating with anticipation. and maybe he's doing it on purpose or simply by accident but it still garners a response he'll enjoy: a purr.

"i live in new mauville," she supplies, glancing at him with a tilt of her head. "probably a bit too far but there should be a hotel a block or so away." could she wait that long? probably not. her body presses a little closer until her hips are just barely brushing against his. there's a moment of hesitation before she's directing her full attention to him, as if she knows curiosity might kill this kitty. "so, got a name, tiger?"

[attr="class","gia i"]sometimes the cover of the night works to her advantage and other times... well, she has to create her own form of leverage.

tonight is nothing more than a game. hide and seek with authorities, slipping in and out of alleys and buildings until the trail will eventually run cold. and yet, it's all with a single purpose: distraction. she's the bait, bound in red leather and done up with zippers. while the silly little officers are chasing her throughout the streets, her associates are making quick work of whatever warehouse full of pokemon they're looting. she didn't ask for details. no, instead, she winked and went on her merry way.

they gave her little restrictions for this mission. steal a few pricey pieces of jewelry, garner attention, and slip away. simple, easy, things she does on a daily schedule.

and somehow, what should be simple turns out to be a bit more complicated than she originally thought.

a laugh escapes when she finally stops, when she finally turns to find a body still close at her heels. "look what the cat dragged in!" a hand drifts to snag the whip at her hip, the devil's tail tipped weapon cracking against wet pavement. and while she engages with a dirty cop, a snarling luxray paces a few feet away.

[attr="class","gia i"]tos is rude thank u now i'mma take this boy to church cmere

thankfully, his clothes are still relatively in one whole piece instead of ribbons of fabric. would he look even better with parts of skin peeking out at her through claw marks in fabric? definitely. will she get the opportunity yet? probably not. sometimes a girl can be patient, however, especially what the prize is as thrilling as that.

she's slightly panting when the satisfied glow begins to settle in. the rush of adrenaline, of sheer pleasure only lasts for so long and she's left wondering how much time is left until the next taste? her clothes are shifted back into place, a hand straying for a moment to run through messy blonde hair. the thrumming of her pulse has yet to fully subside yet but that's to be expected, heightened by the knowledge that half of the bar might've just heard what a cat sounds like when it screams.

"someone's eager," she lazily smirks, the last piece of clothing righted even though it'll simply be abandoned in a heap on the floor later. there's a brief moment where she considers leaning in to nip at skin once more but there's more that can be done and that thought alone has her slinking toward the stall's door. "alleyway? although, you might have to wait a bit longer before you get what you want." the lighting isn't right in the alleyway for what he's getting at but the night's definitely still young and she hasn't even broken skin yet. something about the knowledge that she'll have more than just memories to remember this by in the morning has her already moving to leave the bathroom, lured out by more.

[attr="class","gia i"]they step in a way that's almost synchronized yet not quite. one leads and the other follows but she isn't terribly focused on exactly who has the upper hand right now. no, not when his hands are roaming and his lips are at her neck. the graze of teeth rewards him with a groan because it's unfair that he's teasing and riling her up with no outlet. ah, but she's getting ahead of herself, lured further down the rabbit hole by sensations alone.

laughter escapes gia, amused and a little breathy. the complaints earn a wink from the blonde but she never gets a chance to pay them much more attention. instead, she's spun around and led into the stall. the room spins a little with the movement and her body feels a little hotter the longer his hands are on her but neither of those facts matter right now.

not when he's inviting her to pounce.

red lips spread until a sultry grin roots itself onto her face and she needs no further prompting. her body presses closer, hands already reaching for clothes that better move or she'll want to leave them in tatters. "gladly," she purrs into the closing space between them.

and while she shifts to capture his lips with a dizzying sort of ferocity, it dawns on her that maybe she should've brought her costume's whip for the occasion. now that's a certain kind of control she'll try to secure by the end of the night. for now, she's content with digging nails into skin and nipping a little too hard at the pulse points of a neck.

[attr="class","gia i"]a body can have a mind of its own sometimes and hers feels like fire. like nerves doused in gasoline, set ablaze by the overwhelming heat of another. and maybe she knew what she was doing when she led him out here, where bodies mingle and mesh into one moving mass. lost in the crowd, lost in the sensations but acutely aware of the settling of arms around a waist and the growl that wants to snake its way out of her throat.

her head lulls to one side. an invitation, a beckoning. and he's meeting exposed skin with lips grinning into a pulse point. funny, this is how it feels to be putty in someone's hands. a pity, really. she had been hoping for more control tonight. her hands rise to find purchase in his hair, to run sharp nails over scalp until hair knots in the spaces between her fingers and she tugs.

house music becomes white noise and it's only body pressing against body. another shiver is earned when he growls in her ear, paired with the rolling of hips and a cheshire cat grin. "lead the way," she purrs back. she's never quite understood the concept before but sometimes it's even more satisfying to switch roles, to become the mouse instead of the cat. and right now, she's definitely prey.

[attr="class","gia i"]"right answer." the more aggressive the better seems to be a shared sentiment. the thought has her lips curling to mirror his grin with one of her own, red stained and hungry.

she pays no mind to the mild look of irritation that crosses the bartender's features. she has a drink in one hand and a vice in the other. what more could a girl ask for? gia's knocking back the rest of the glass's contents and sliding it away a moment later, the retreating bartender snagging it as he goes. she won't need it anymore. not where they're going.

"easy, tiger," she snickers. her body shifts away to push away from the bar. a look of expectancy is thrown over her shoulder, as if she's barely waiting for him to follow. "the night's young enough for all of the above." one, two, three, maybe four if she's lucky. and as pulsating lights paint her in a variety of colors, the ravenous look of her eyes almost glows like the slits of cat eyes in a dark room.

and maybe he'll become a vice that keeps her coming back for some high she can't grasp elsewhere. or maybe she'll retreat in the shadows like a fleeting memory. but first, round one is about to begin.

[attr="class","gia i"]the telltale sound of glass clinking against counter draws her back like a bucket of cold water. her hip lingers for a moment before it retreats and her body is sent leaning over to snag the drink. cheap whiskey is on the menu and while it tastes like a burn, it's efficient and quick to provide the intended purpose: liquid courage and a poorly written excuse over text after she sneaks out an open window after three am.

her eyes settle back onto him with the settling of ice cubes in liquid. "back in town," she echoes before taking a too big sip to really be considered a sip. "doesn't everything always change in the end?" time moves and flows and carries them like plastic bags floating in the wind or whatever the hell katy perry said. still, she swirls whiskey in glass and mulls over the thought. sure, the processes of her mind are sluggish and the jury's still out on if they've every worked in the first place, but she tries at least.

and then whatever thoughts she might have had are quickly shooed away. replaced by incoherent sentences and fragments that would not be considered suitable for children on any station.

"definitely not just you but depends on your idea of a good time," gia murmurs. she can think of more than a few ideas for a good time but... well, not everyone's cup of tea perhaps. the lean is subconscious but the brush of lips against an ear is intentional. "claws or no claws?" house cat or tiger?

[attr="class","gia i"]breath fans against the skin of her neck, her ear, her cheek and admittedly, she's already caught hook line and sinker. a shiver follows and then a laugh. not one used to convince a poor bloke that she needs another drink to do whatever he wants. an actual, genuine laugh as if she's amused by the thought of an attractive man coming back just for another glimpse.

"could be arranged," she turns her head enough to return the favor of a murmur in an ear. or it could be nothing more than two ships passing in the night. cards have to be played right and she has a feeling it has to be her hand. maybe it's the indifference on his features or maybe a gut feeling but there's something that makes her want to work for it. odd... a game of cat and mouse is always fun but it'd be a first to take the role of mouse.

pussycat. kitten. pet names she has absolutely no qualms against. in fact, she almost purrs again from just the sound of the name leaving his lips. say it again, maybe?

"first time, actually," her eyes slide lazily to the bartender to signal for another drink before returning. "not my usual playground." and there's a moment of consideration, of hazy deliberation before she's shifting a little closer, hip brushing against hip. man, that guy on the left really has to watch his elbows, huh? her head tilts to the side and messy blonde waves follow. "what's the occasion?"

[attr="class","gia i"]it's almost peculiar to find herself in a hole in the wall. there's nothing of value here, really. just drunks and drinks and vibrating bass against surprisingly sound structures. different than the opulent galas she'd target and yet, almost better in a way she can't place.

maybe it's the alcohol induced flush or another free drink plucked from a man's hands with a flutter of eyelashes and the puckering of red lips. a pretty blonde in the seedy part of town is easy prey, sure, but she's familiar with the workings of the world, with which labeled strings to tug at. it's easy, thrilling, and a hell of a way to pass the time. and really, if she didn't have wandering hands and a penchant for glittering gems, she'd most certainly place herself into a position where men buy her things just for the thrill of having a pretty woman on their arm for a slotted amount of time. perhaps in another life she'll become a sugar baby and never have to starve or claw her way through disadvantages again. that life, however, is not now.

although, if he's buying, she's certainly down.

"hey," she can't help the purr that escapes when she slides between two bodies at the bar. she pays the man to her left no mind. no, her attention is already as focused as it'll ever hope to be tonight. and it starts with the swipe of a tongue against lipstick and the slight leaning into an orbit she probably shouldn't be in. "come here often?" it's cliche and maybe so is her barely there outfit but it's fitting for the mood and the shot she knocks back in one go. glass clinks against counter top and when she grins, there's thinly veiled hunger in the baring of teeth.

[attr="class","gia i"]"nope," she pops the p with a smack of glossy lips and a following snicker. her, stop talking? when hell freezes over or tepigs fly, maybe. until then, emma will be stuck hearing her ramble for a week. or... until she's tucked into a makeshift forever box and tossed out to sea. something tells her the latter is more feasible than anything else.

naturally, she tries to follow when emma turns, as if they're better together and it's a travesty to leave her in the sand. the woman is a bit too quick on her feet or heels and sand don't mix. whatever the case, she's lagging behind just enough to stare at emma's back instead of sauntering shoulder to shoulder. it's not all bad, though... she's in the prime spot to see the look on her companion's face when she whips back around, feet stilling in slightly damp sand.

"a game," she retorts with a roll of her eyes like it's common sense, like it's something everyone does. and perhaps it is but they're not everyone and they certainly never have time for games. "you know, checkers, tag? oooh, cat and mouse!" it's difficult to keep the giggles at bay. they punctuate every suggestion that comes flying out of her mouth until she's dissolving into laughter. maybe the sun's getting to her. no, not yet. this is a game in and of itself if she really bothers to think about it. and maybe that's why she keeps pressing her luck, as if the concept of riling up emma is enticing all on its own. "not in a playful mood, babe?"