[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]they're skidding to a stop as a form drifts into their path. not necessarily what they were tailing but she'll bite anyway. the nuzleaf looks a little dazed, perhaps even a little confused. maybe it's not every day it runs into a fox and a cat? who knows.

the grin she flashes it is wild, almost as if she's about to thoroughly enjoy this. and perhaps she is.

her zorua doesn't bother with moves. no, why would she? the tricky little fox has illusions up her furry sleeves. and as she drifts between shadows, she begins as herself and ends as the woman's luxray. a telltale snicker escapes but for the most part, she looks every inch of the luxray as she appears.

and then, all it takes is a sharp snarl and the flashing of sharp canines to send the nuzleaf running.

"maybe next time," she giggles, slinking forward until she's beside her zorua again. by now, the little fox has shifted back into her usual skin. "use a little more teeth. i don't think it got the hint." maybe it did and maybe it didn't but there's no real harm in having a taste anyway, right?

solo wild.
passing!

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]beneath the cover of the night, a cat lurks in the shadows. surprisingly, she's lacking the usual attire. no cat mask or a long tail trailing behind her. it's only simple leggings and a crop top. perfect for the weather and the satisfying chill of night.

"see anything, yet?" she chirps to her companion.

a fox darts out from the cover of darkened trees, black and red fur barely glistening in moonlight. the snicker that follows is telling, however, and she's returning it in spades. and before she knows it, she's darting closer to follow the tracks left behind.

they're on the course for collision with another being, another soul wandering in the shadows. whether it'll be something she actually wants? that's another story but she's enjoying the thrill of the chase, the ever satisfying game of cat and mouse.

besides, if she's not hunting for prey, is she really worthy of the leather getup she wears like a second skin?

solo wild.

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]she's distracted by her art, perhaps too distracted to pay much attention to his approach. she does, however, notice when he slides up behind her. the smirk she wears widens, paired with an almost soft purr. it's normal to be putty in a situation like this, right? no, probably not but she is anyway.

her body relaxes into his, the knife stilling in skin. and yet, she can't drag her eyes away. something about watching the lights flicker off in a house from outside is so alluring.

"yes," she whispers and her hips press a little further into his. "i do." and maybe it matches his or it's on a different playing field of its own. either way, she's enjoying this.

when the man's motionless, limp, and light has faded from now glassy eyes, she has to drag her eyes away. right, locals. there's still a few within the area... oops.

"fine, let's go," she feigns a pout when she turns in his hold. it dissipates moments later, corners of the mouth curling until a satisfied smile lingers instead. they finished what they came here to do and now it's off to elsewhere. more satisfaction to keep bringing the cat back. hm, she likes the sound of that.

giada slips away from him a moment later to snag the leather whip. releasing the hold on the man causes the body to slump forward and she pauses to watch stiff motion in action. ah, but he's suggesting grabbing a bite and she's quick to snap back to focus. a bite of him, of food, of all of the above. work and reward, plenty of reward even. somehow she's placing him on her list as her new favorite partner in crime.

there's a little extra pep in her step when she slinks ahead of him, an extra swing to her hips. "lead the way, tiger. i'm starving," and she'll never disclose what she's hungrier for: him or pizza. eventually she'll settle upon him but for now, pizza might win just by a slim margin.

Abner Armstrong

CHARACTER | giada morgan
INGREDIENTS | pokeball, pokeball, pokeball
ROLL | KxUMulLP

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]she only offers him a roll of her eyes and a lazy smirk. should she have expected such an answer? perhaps. is it still mildly irritating? oh, definitely. instead of quipping back with snark, however, she shifts her focus.

a mudkip climbs up onto where she's settling, happily swatting at a puddle with small paws. the giggle that escapes her is delighted, even more so when her skitty joins the mudkip in playtime.

"cute," she coos, sinking down until she's comfortably laying on her stomach to watch them play. while he sneers at the mudkip, she grins from ear to ear. it's an adorable little thing that can easily grow to become a massive beast. perfect! even if it's outside her usual realm of comfort. you know, lacking claws and cat ears. still good enough for her to snag. perhaps that's why she decides to cut the playtime short with a simple command.

"sing." and sing her skitty does. the mudkip is curled up and snoring within moments of hearing the lullaby's melody. eventually, she shifts into a sitting position and gingerly lifts the mudkip into her lap, offering gentle strokes of the fins attached to its cheeks.

Abner Armstrong
capturing mudkip!

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]"oh?" she draws away enough to raise an eyebrow at him, tilting her head as if confused. he didn't want any part in this? a pity, perhaps. maybe she had wanted just a taste of what he could do, an inkling into what she could expect from him. the blade stills for a moment, just shy of another slice. "leaving so soon?"

part of her is almost a tiny bit disappointed. not enough to matter but to make her work a little less enjoyable.

ah, but that tone! it's being used for her and she'd hate to waste it. the knife cuts again, perhaps a little deeper than intended. the man's pained groan follows and she's quick to grin, quick to drag it out and start all over again. her eyes don't watch the work in progress, however. instead, they drift toward abner's form by the door. a challenge presents itself in her eyes. one that half says this could be you but also can you do better?

there's little doubt in her mind that he could do much better.

the reaction she gets from the captive is louder this time, halfway between a strangled scream and another groan. music to her ears! she doesn't bother to hide the satisfaction this time around. instead she'll dig a little deeper and finally divert her eyes to the masterpiece beneath her hands.

"don't let me keep you," she calls although her eyes don't stray back up.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]a hum escapes and while she opens her mouth to reply, nothing follows. instead, a mantine will catch her eye. she offers him a wink before she's turning to follow it, shifting until she's diving deeper into water. if he watches her go, she doesn't notice.

the mantine is playful, that much she's certain of. it enjoys swirling in circles around her, a stream of blown bubbles following. pretty in a way but fish aren't exactly her style. she's more of a claws and fangs kinda girl. she'll indulge the water type anyway.

after a few more twirls with the mantine, she's waving it goodbye and swimming back up to the surface. giada emerges with a gasp and only manages to catch the tail end of the battle. well, sort of. the beginnings of whirlpool pull her body closer to the chaos and she's almost pouting by the time she reaches the plywood once more.

"hey, that almost swept me away," she calls, heaving herself back up onto the wood to the ever excited mewls of her skitty.

Abner Armstrong
passing!

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]like a cat batting a mouse around the floor just for shits and giggles, she's careful in just how much force she uses. too much and he seizes, not enough and he could slip through. she settles for somewhere in between and while abner rips the restrictions away from his mouth, she sits back to admire his work.

of course, a moment comes where she's caught off guard. and while she'd like to say it's because she hadn't expected the words he uses, there's a different reason behind the pause in her movements. hands still, claws still embedded in skin. something about it is both terrorizing and alluring, as if existing halfway between violent and seductive. she can't place where she'd put it but what she can place is this: she'd enjoy that tone and maybe even more used on her.

a purr follows before she continues. the man spills his dirty little secrets to the confines of the room. abner records all of it. from every whisper to every pained groan she draws out of the man. sometime in between, she drifts away from claws and drags a little swiss army knife into it. although... a wince follows when the man has to pause to collect himself, to bite at his lip until blood is drawn as a blade swipes across skin. and maybe to cover it up, she peppers light kisses over the wounds, tongue swiping to clean.

oops, too rough?

her eyes dart to abner for a reaction, for a cue to either keep going or step back. sometimes she can be submissive... especially given that tone.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]he has a point, she supposes. all zippers and leather, skin tight and leaving little to imagine. it's a natural reaction but maybe not the one she's after. the man in question lets out a whimper as if that'll stop her from doing what she wants. it only causes nails to dig in, to break skin and send pricks of blood blossoming into the light color of his shirt.

"no," she laughs, dragging her nails across and then away. scratch marks happen to be her favorite masterpiece. "i definitely can't blame him." there's something about having such an effect that really boosts a girl's ego. even if said man is tied up and unable to scramble away from a hungry cat.

a sigh escapes, breathed into the man's neck, before she's slowly stepping away. not enough to allow the man to breathe normally but just enough where he's slightly relaxing. the heel of her boot taps almost impatiently against concrete, echoing through the room. "fine, killjoy. business it is."

giada watches him for a moment, as if she's curious what he'll do. will he start them off? or will he go straight for the throat? something tells her she might not get to have as much fun as she'd like. and while she enjoys taking her time with torture, they might not have such a luxury. not with the crimes this man has compiled. a thought rises before she's shifting in again, leaning to brush lips against an ear. "we've heard you've been quite busy. care to explain?"

or don't. it'll end the same either way.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

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

[attr="class","giada i"]"so," she purrs, settling the upper half of her body onto the man's shoulders. he squirms beneath her as elbows dig into pressure points but the squirming merely brings a malicious grin rising to red lips. "come here often, handsome?"

a pity, really. he's almost pretty in a way, even better tied up. too bad he'll be limp before the night's over.

a luxray lingers by the door, eyes gleaming golden every now and then. a lookout able to peer through walls. nice, right? perhaps the best partner for a thief. although, her current companion might be just a cut above the rest for reasons she'd happily list. her eyes dart over to him, head tilting into the captured man's cheek. and as if to either entertain the thought of riling up abner or simply be nothing more than a tease, she allows her hands to roam.

the man can't do much else besides sit there and squirm further into a wooden chair. her whip has more than one use, it seems, and it's a shame she can't use it for better endeavors. it does happen to make one hell of a rope, though. the man's hands try to escape their binds but only manage to brush against leather bound thighs. a laugh escapes her moments later.

"you're in one hell of a position to get handsy, love."

Abner Armstrong