Locale: Anonymous (CVnU thread)

@rafael_romeiro:

The cavern’s cool air seemed to be electrified by their sensual chemistry—the tempest of carnal emotion that connected them existing as its own force of nature. The orange vibrancy of sunset dimmed to the celestial paleness of moonlight, while the stars adorning the black expanse of space shimmered above them in a visage honoring the divine beauty of the lovers below them.

The symphony created from their physical escapades echoed without restraint through the hollow grotto, the sensuous ecstasy they injected into one another only accomplished by their pairing. They were love and desire made flesh—no lovers before or after them matching the fervency in which they ravished one another. Their performance was made more spectacular by the intimate lagoon they immersed themselves in, fully taking advantage of the ethereal setting made more heavenly by their presence.

Exhausted, while euphoric, in the aftermath of their lovemaking, Valerie rested her glamorous head of golden locks on the Portugal Panther’s bare chest, which rose and fell steadily behind her as his arm wrapped affectionately around her supple waist, making her finitely endlessly secure and infinitely loved.

Letting their figures melt together into one intimate entity, she could feel his breath, warm and familiar, from behind her. It was effortless to forget there had even been a world outside the moments they shared together, each one perceived, by her, as a singular point in time detached from reality and existing only between the two of them.

Smiling as his words danced through the minimal space between them to fall upon her ears, she let her eyes marvel at the expanse of unearthly azure water beneath where in the air. “And what is that?” she purred, turning her head faintly to place a tender kiss on his powerful chest.

@valerie_huntington:

As she doted his resolute chest with an amative peck, the corners of Rafael's lips curled upwards, an instinctive smile of endearment adorning his august features. Affectionately cupping her chin with his right hand, subtly tilting her head upwards with chivalrous romanticism, with his lover's rosy lips angled towards his own, he embraced them with a lethargic yet impassioned exchange of physical harmony and emotional chemistry, his tongue sliding into the warm moisture of her mouth, in search of hers and gradually meeting it as they curled and tugged. Breaking their enticing lip-lock with a gentle, flirtatious pull of her supple, lower lip, a quiet yet sincere chuckle escaped his herculean frame as he lovingly pressed the tip of his nose against Valerie's.

Following their succinct yet adoring Eskimo kiss, Rafael, still having yet to answer the White Queen's curious inquiry, curled an arm under her knees, whisking her sumptuous, bare frame from the azure waters, carrying her as a man should his woman while they ascend from the water by virtue of his aerokinetic flight. Exiting the cavern as the coming night enshrouds the iconic island, Rafael levitates further into the night sky, vibrating a collection of air molecules to generate kinetic energy, and by extension, heat, shielding his golden-haired goddess from the gelid air of the night with a blanket of warm, nurturing air. In the span of several minutes, they had arrived to the intended location. The 'Giardino di Augusto'. Completing a tame landing close to the garden's center, Rafael gallantly set Valerie's feet onto the floor.

It was long past visiting hours and the garden was closed, leaving the Hellfire monarchs to their privacy in an environment comprised of a breathtaking series of panoramic flower-decked terraces overlook the Faraglioni on one side, and the Bay of Marina Piccola and Via Krupp on others. Lovingly taking the Huntington Heiress by the hand, and guiding her closer to the side that overlooked the island's still waters glistening under the touch of the full moon's mesmeric light, he turned to amorously meet her clear, crystal blue eyes, the windows to her soul. Rafael was a private person, reserved and self-controlled, rarely sharing pieces of himself with others. Yet with Valerie, he felt the degree of comfort needed to for the first time in eternity it seemed, be vulnerable to someone else.

"I used to come here a long time ago at night with my books about the elements. It is where I learned to master aerokinesis. Where I learned how to fly", he paused, opening himself up to her, sharing more with her than he'd ever shared with anyone else by detailing a significant moment of his past, allowing her in a sense to be a part of it. "The Bay of Marina Piccola", gesturing towards it with a gentle gaze, "I would always fall there when I failed to maintain proper flight", he chuckled rather quietly. "But that was the past. I'm better in the present. But more importantly", taking hold of her other hand as he stepped forward, the intimate glow of moonlight cast over them, the golden-brown depth of his hazel eyes gazing into hers, "You are my present, and my future".

@rafael_romeiro:

In a rush of cool, refreshing air, Valerie’s supple figure was suddenly removed from the sapphire waters of the Blue Grotto and carried by Rafael’s protective and unyielding arms into the midnight sky. The delicate strings of her scanty apricot-colored bikini rustled wildly in her air, along with the uninhibited locks of her heavenly golden hair. Words escaped her as they raced against the blackness of night as two shooting stars, both of them radiating more brilliantly than any sun in any galaxy had before them. She felt weightless in his brawny arms, while her own lithe limbs wrapped tightly around his neck, holding his body as close to her as possible not only for a warm embrace against the nipping winds that greeted them, but because she discovered an inexplicable comfort and intimacy the closer she got to him.

After what could have never seemed long enough, she noticed their gentle decent toward a garden whose divine beauty rivaled, not to say outshone, that of Eden’s. In the milky light of the moon, the garden’s expanse of exotic flora and fauna’s naturally vibrant colors seemed to have been painted in a coat of delicate silver luster. The entire scene was magic—alight. It was agony to comprehend the beauty of Valerie’s glamorous form, among the garden’s empyrean setting, in a single glance—however a gaze lasting any longer would prove mesmerizing to the point of insanity. Only Rafael, a man of equaled godliness in visage and character, could appreciate the modern-day Aphrodite for the masterpiece of flesh and life that she was; and it was for this reason she loved him with the fire and intensity of a thousand devoted lovers and a thousand burning stars since the beginning of time itself.

“You never fail to continue to impress me—no matter how impossible you make the task for yourself,” she said with an amused grin pulling at her delicate lips—their petal softness and sensual fullness put on display by the moon’s gentle light. His own Adonic facial features, undoubtedly some celestial creator’s finest artwork, were similarly adorned, the majesty of his chiseled jawline and the mysterious spectacle of iridescent colors that swirled within his irises—which was where she rested her own powder blue eyes. She often forgot the need to fill the space between them with words, feeling as though the otherworldly connection of intimacy and understanding between them spoke loud enough. “And while I couldn’t tell you the first thing about aerokinesis,” she paused, letting one of her supple hands wrap behind him to stoke his raven locks tenderly while her other was surrounded by the loving grip of his own large, rough hands, “you make me feel like I can fly every time I’m with you. Every time I think about you, I can’t help but let my other thoughts be melted away by the warmth and intensity of the affections I feel for you. Sometimes”—she hesitated, unsure—“sometimes it scares me,” she admitted with a vulnerability in her pale azure irises that was unfamiliar to the White Queen’s usually vibrant and unaffected visage. “It’s just, nobody’s ever looked at me the way you do. In fact, I don’t think they looked at me at all,” she whispered, the entirety of her past pain and heartbreak open to him—the entirety of her heart and soul exposed in a way she had never allowed it to be before. “You’re my future, my present, and my past. I can’t remember my life before you, I can’t imagine the rest of it without you, and there’s no one I’d rather be with, right now, than you.”

@valerie_huntington:

As their embrace and every word grew in intimacy, their loving sentiments for one another becoming tangible, Rafael's enthralling hazel gaze deepened as it met Valerie's receptive, crystal blue eyes, the stars aligning above them in the clear night sky as per the will of some celestial magic. Affectionately stroking the soft, unblemished skin of her hand with his thumb while his other hand instinctively ascended to amatively cup her angelic visage by the chin as she ran her fingers through his silky raven locks, a tame chuckle of taciturn amusement escaped his person as the Huntington Heiress made her light jest about not harboring extensive knowledge on aerokinesis, he was both engaged and lost in her presence.

Playfully pulling her closer towards him as her honey-laced, siren's voice entranced his auditory senses, the Panther King could not help but yield to the emerging bliss from within as she spoke, allowing an instinctively curling smile of endearing adoration to adorn his drawing features. "It scares me as well", he confessed, features softening as he resumed, "I've never been this open with anyone else. And I don't intend to be this open with anyone else". Hardly the paragon of emotional vulnerability and entrusting his heart to others, it was a testament to their unwavering physical and emotional connection that it was to her and only her that he became this paragon. "All those people in the past, they might as well have been blind".

"Because when I look at you, I see many things", he paused, "I see the woman I'm always thinking about, the one who is always on my mind, so much that I always text you in between breaks from the MVP's", he laughed rather quietly, coolly stepping forward to plant a doting kiss on the tip of her nose, then the center of her forehead. "And right now I see my first love", and only love for that matter. "How everyone looks at you or has looked at you or hasn't doesn't matter. As long as I look at you with the same lost eyes I had when you first said 'I love you', and then I did immediately after that".

He needn't say anymore. Leaning forward while angling her wanting, rosy lips towards his own by the chin, he culminated their moment with an intimate kiss of romantic endearment.

@valerie_huntington:

Madeira, Portugal

Their week in Paris had been a memorable one, much like their week in Capri, and each and every moment spent in one another's company in the 'city that never sleeps', New York. Every moment was one to remember, yet Rafael wanted one memory that exceeded them all, one that would truly be worthy of being described as memorable. All the more reason why the Panther King sought to to take the golden-haired White Queen to his native Portugal, and in particular, to the archipelago of Madeira, a breathtaking island that in essence, resembles one gargantuan botanical garden of engrossing floral displays. He wanted to spend a wonderful series of hours exploring the enrapturing Monte Palace Tropical Gardens with the Huntington Heiress.

He wanted to spend a week at the couples-only Savoy Gardens hotel, just up from the Lido with her. And from their balcony, gaze upon the spellbinding views of the azure sea, the sprightly harbor, the vibrant city and the towering mountains. He envisioned them lounging by the hotel's inviting pool, frequenting the couples spa, having lunch at the terrace, and enjoying the entertainment and sundowners on the roof with captivating panoramic views. A myriad of thoughts wandered his mind, visiting Blandy's Wine Lodge to indulge in the island's most celebrated export; Madeira wine. They would go from the lovely town of Sao Vincente in the north, to the spectacular west coast, from the lush central forests to the bleak Ponta de Sao Lourenco jutting out to the east, and explore every inch of the island for dramatic scenery and dizzying views.

And finally, they would visit Pico de Arieiro, one of the island's highest points where the views are without peer and the clouds dally at the feet of tourists, furthering the European landscape's charming beauty. And as they arrived at the upscale Savoy Gardens hotel in Madeira's city of Funchal, Rafael cast a doting glance Valerie's way, a tenderhearted smile adorning his Adonic features, certain that the perpetually in-love couple would partake in all of those activities. "We're here, meu amor".

@rafael_romeiro:

She found it strange, but remarkably pleasant, that the increasing amount of time she spent with the Black Jaguar had failed to make his presence dulling to her. Her numerous other male companies throughout her life had, variably but inevitably, bored the socialite siren. Moreover they had never seemed to tell when the modern-day Aphrodite had grown with weary of them, resulting in an endless string of desperate phone calls, gifts, and other attempts to regain her affections, all of which she had turned away with an indifferent, but rarely unkind, shoulder. This state of enchanting and abandoning the men she dated had assumed an air of permanency--one shattered the moment she met Rafael.

She knew the fervency of their love had assumed itself spontaneously, and not entirely logically. Amid a wave of warnings from her parents, friends, and, annoyingly, younger brother, Valerie had refused to deny herself of the inexpressible emotions she felt for the Portuguese Panther and knew, without room for questioning, that he felt for her. Their love was effortless from the moment the two halves of their single soul found one another and, she was surprised to find, it only grew more so as time passed. From ceaseless jet-setting across the globe, to spending hours on the phone at night when they couldn't be together, to simple cuddling up on the couch and enjoying one of her many favorite romance movies, they remained infatuated with one another--equally enthralled with the beauties found in the other's mind as in their godly physiques. They seemed to communicate without speech, entirely attuned to the thoughts of the other regardless of Valerie's telepathic abilities. And now, having spent countless hours of traveling and living together, they had seen every side and trait of one another--seen them in an intimate life away from the glitz and glamour of their celebrity lifestyle--experienced the other for who they truly were they and still loved every part of them.

As their driver slowed their car to a halt in front of their hotel, Rafael's arresting visage once again disarmed her with a genuine grin, the Huntington heiress responding with a gentle squeeze of their interlocked hands and a trio of affection pecks on his lips. She couldn't begin to express the excitement she harbored for experiencing where her love had grown up; the place that molded him into the most amazing man she had ever met. Moreover she was enchantingly amused by the clear restraint he showed in his own excitement to show it to her, like that of a child showing off their favorite toy. Amid his serious, composed nature that wildly attracted her, it was the moments of his innocent glee and goofiness that were infinitely endearing to her.

Stepping from their car, it was a relief to not be assaulted by the hoards of cameramen found in the larger cities they graced. Having dressed casually for the private plane ride to the European country, the couture countless still displayed her innate taste for style and elegance in a 3x1 ivory crop top, while a Dolce & Gabbana tweed mini skirt accentuated her long, lithe legs. The cropped cut of her top revealed a tantalizing peak of her toned abdomen, while the nude pair of Louboutin 'So Kate' pumps on her feet only increased her naturally statuesque height.

As sunbeams danced across her face, she adjusted the Barton Perreira 'Ronette' black and brushed gold sunglasses covering her powder blue eyes before turning to her love, who had exited the sumptuous vehicle behind her. Her slender arms wrapped around his midsection, while her locks of silky blonde hair rested against his resolute chest. "Where to first, mue amor? You're my trustworthy guide for as long as we're here," she asked, adjusting her delicate head to look up at his face; surely the work of some divine architect who had never intended the beauty of the Black King to be seen by inferior humans and gods alike.

Off the coast of the eastern seaboard, close to the U.S coastlin, sat a cargo ship holding various mostly illegal cargo. It was supposed to be a simple job for them. Then it escalated once they came into conflict with those they were trafficking, those who were being smuggled and the stow away they encountered in the midst of all this....

There was gunfire on the deck of the ship. And on the deck having a gunfight was one masked individual with two M1911s the men found soon they could not fight like the others. M-174 walked slowly along the deck. A man peeks out to fire, only to get shot in the head in .2 seconds. Another considers popping out, but M fires at the wall with no apparent recoil as the rounds all hit the same exact spot, penetrate and spear through the man's chest. Causing him to collapse. 2 left. One of them breaks out an experimental weapon they are carrying. A microwave cannon. This stuff isn't worth dying for. However, M-174's head snapped to the hostile as it aimed the gun and fired. A beam of lightspeed energy went and melted the wall. However, M was leaned back abnormally, far back enough for it's head to be touching the floor. It outmaneuvered the man as it leaped high into the air and flips to bring down an axe kick to it's opponent.

However. The man blocks it. Time seems to slow down from M's perspective. Analyzing hostile entity. Species. Mutate. Durability. 5. Strength class. 5. Further data required. M tries flip off the man's arm. Only for him to grab M's foot. "Shoot him! Shoot him now." The man fires the microwave canon and this time, doesnt miss. Much if M's circuitry is fried and it's vision becomes filled with static as M's stomach meets the man's fist. M is sent flying away and falls far away from the ship.

*Splash* M sank like a rock as it floated down to the bottom of the sea. Embraced by pitch black, cold, murkey water. It's vision was riddled with static and was disorted. Too heavy to swim effectively. Ship is leaving fast. Must quickly ascertain a course of action....

Then the anchor dropped. M suspected someone in the control room let it drop. One of the trafficked. And it wasn't wrong in this assumption. Indeed. Someone did kill the captain and dropped the achor for M. This gives it time to catch the ship. With a blast of compressed air from the arts and legs, M propells itself to the anchor. Chain and grabs it.

Up above, the mutate is holding a girl of aboug 14 years of age. Surrounded by angry people. Angry people with guns. The man does not feel threatened, as he breaks the girls arm, and threatens them as he yells at them, and threatens to crush her head like a grape. However, the crowd parts. As M walks forward. Holding Holt (his gun) in it's hand as it aims it at the man. He promptly brings the girl in front of his face to protect himself. "Unless you want me to break her. I suggest you back off." He says as he takes the girl's arm and breaks it like a twig.

M decided at that point what it felt would be best to do, as the gun was loaded with armor piercing Aggregate Carbon nanorod tipped en sabot bullets. And then he fired. The 4 mm flechette went straight through the girl at mach 8.8, making a tiny hole and causing her to pass out. The mutate gets almost the right upper portion of his head blown off, as he drops the girl. And falls from the ship.

The fourteen year old girl lays there bleeding with a hole through the side of her abdomen. In shock. People regard M with fear and look at the girl in pity and horror. M walks forward and lets them part aside. They were scared. Her eyes flickered open as the she saw M stand over her, looking at her behind the blank obscure darkness of the mask's eye holes.

The last thing she saw was M reaching down towards her as everything then went black for her.

@m-174: (need assistance?)

@valerie_huntington:

With their luggage transposed from the spacious trunk of their chauffeured, glossy white BMW X6 to the palatial interior of their upscale hotel suite, a cool smile of instinctive contentment adorned his chiseled, Greek god facial features in response to Valerie's endearingly adorable displays of affection, displays that he reciprocated with the doting amore he so frequently showers her with. Mirroring his golden-haired beloved's casual yet fashionable garments, Rafael's herculean physique was festooned by a form-fitting, azure white Dolce & Gabbana v-neck t-shirt, a pair of Dolce & Gabbana jeans sporting a dark grey shade, and a pair of white Lacoste Men's Carnaby RS 2 Casual Shoes embroidered by Lacoste's signature Croc logo on the side.

Meanwhile his only accessories took the form of a visually enrapturing, Jacob and Co. watch aggrandized by the flair of it's gold-orange features while his mesmeric, hazel eyes peered through the dark lenses of his vintage, gold-rimmed Cartier Cabochon sunglasses, further fortifying the charming mystique and cool air that emanated from his Adonic person and hung in the air like an immovable force of nature. "I know exactly what I want to show you first", he smiled, exerting as much effort as possible to veil his infantile delight at being in his native Portugal in the company of his undisputed soulmate, yet still failing to conceal the occasional bursts of innocent nostalgia that seemed to be gradually overtaking his usually collected, swaggering disposition.

Gallantly escorting Valerie into the luxury vehicle's affluent interior and instructing their chauffeur to take them to the Monte neighborhood in Funchal, Rafael momentarily broke free from his array of nostalgic gazes, "I want to show you the neighborhood I grew up in", he paused, his facially expressed exuberance was evident yet carried a subtle edge of his trademark composure. It was upon their eventual ingress in the wealthy neighborhood that the Black Jaguar's features truly lit up. As the car came to a steady halt, he was quick to reach for the White Queen's delicate, manicured hand and lead her towards the gateless house he had been raised in by the only parental figure he had ever had, his late uncle. "This is where I spent most of my childhood. In this house".

"There is a garden in the back that I would go to all the time because I liked to feel the grass under my feet", he shrugged with a tame smile. "Growing up I didn't always feel so good about myself so my uncle built me a basketball hoop and bought me a ball to play with. Of course I wasn't as good at everything as I am now", he jested with a quick wink of harmless haughtiness, "So every now and then I'd break a window or two and he'd shout at me and I would cry then he would apologize and hug me. But then of course, I'd break another window hehe", he paused, a soft laugh escaping him as he quietly shook his head fondly recollecting his childhood experiences. Affectionately curling his arm around her lithe waist and genteelly pulling her closer to him, the Modern Man's Adonis' lips doted the Huntington Heiress' soft cheek with an amative peck. "Come on, I don't want to bore you with these stories, well, at least not here. I might as well do it while we're in Quinta das Vistas where we can spend some time on the panoramic terraces and enjoy some cocktails and the delights of their gourmet restaurant".

@cynthetic@pyrogram:

Stockholm, Sweden - JUPITER Conference

Well fed, Eijima Mitsuji wind down on a glencarin glass of chilled San Martin talking over technology with a table full of drunk strangers--well all except two.

"We'll have actual terraforming plans ready for Mars in two years. Quote me." Viktor Lundgren stated, with a whimsical light flickering in his pistachio green eyes. The Swedish native had come a long way from being a model, a criminal and now arguably one of Earth's top visionaries.

Arthur D. Levinson, Chairman of Apple INC., postured his hand into a steeple, suspicious of the blonde chameleon legitimacy on the subjects of science. He chuckled under his breath, "Viktor, It was...kind of you to give us your space to hold the conference. Greatly appreciated. Now Mr. Watanabe." Levinson said, completely dismissing the statement Viktor made seconds prior. "That starship in your presentation. What was the name of it again?"

"The Miyamoto." Daisuke Tanabe replied tersely, with a courtesy smile. "And our familes Tzu cystals are installed throughout the starship as a power source and database. "the Japanese native exchanged a warm look with Viktor, communicating a silent and familiar language with one another.

What the pretentious chairman did not know was Viktor was equally involved with Wata-dai's Space and Atmosphere projects, more so the ecology--the terraforming. Mr. Lundgren's self-importance remained tempered. He loved the swift kick of people underestimating his intelligence, will and ability.

Eijima felt his brain activity dwindling to a stagnant low and excused himself from the table with his cocktail whisky. MUSE models engaged the engineers with cultured conversation, entertaining the ideas of trips to Porto Pino or the wine vineyards of Burgundy. They were strategically placed their to enchant, Viktor taught his models impeccably.

Daisuke had mentioned a rumor of Anthony Stark resurrection or return into the public eye and sent him an invitation as a joke and genuine welcome. If it was true it was the first step to encourage a partnership or collaboration of some sort. Neither one of the tech experts experienced the precedent President's Annihilator Suit.

Musing with the panoramic view the city of Stockholm alight at night, Eijima wondered if the Annihilator suit matched his Endymion exo-suit.

The sight of M-174 grew and was set towards the horizon. If it was to learn of the world, it could not be done from merely one set of eyes present in America. The U-Bodies traveled in different forms. Some took up disguises and identities. Others simply dissolved and stowed away on planes, ships. However the means, all that mattered was the ends. To reach other countries in the most optimal condition for observation and study of humanity. India, Somalia, China and many more countries were visited for the intents and purposes of the study of humanity. Information to be used further into the future.

@rafael_romeiro:

She watched him, her gaze wide and filled with inexpressible emotion, as his mind took him through all the memories of his past. She didn’t need to be a telepath to know what he was thinking. Rafael had shared everything with her, verbally and mentally, about the details of his childhood. Looking out at the garden of his previous home, she could see him as a boy—running around the backyard with adolescent innocence, but tainted, from the loneliness and discrimination he faced growing up. Looking at him now, handsome and resolute, his arms wrapping protectively around her lithe waist, she was certain there had never been and never would be a man more amazing than him.

Turning around in his arms, so her chest pressed against his and his hands rested on the small of her back, she placed a still, lingering kiss on his warm lips. Her tenderness was palpable, and infinitely moving in its effect. Running her smooth hands languidly up along his muscular chest and shoulders, she tilted her golden head back to gaze into the eyes of her eternal lover. The golden-brown pools of his Adonis visage put her at ease—made her feel more at peace than she had ever known while electrified with passion at the same time. Reaching up, she brushed the tips of her fingers along his cheeks, his lips, and his forehead before making their way affectionately through his silky raven locks. “You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met, Rafael Romeiro. Where you came from, what you’ve accomplished, who you are; it’s all—you are—amazing,” she stated softly, her white and blue irises opening every part of her to him. She wanted to set him down and paint him furiously, as he was in this moment, in his home, so that she never had to lose the love she felt here and now, wrapped in his arms. Pressing her lips against his once more, their mouths danced as their tongue wrestled in a passionate embrace. “I love you so much—“ she managed to express under heavy breath, reluctantly pulling away before their impassioned lip lock resulted in her tearing his clothes off in the middle of his childhood backyard. “We should probably get ready for dinner,” she said with a playful smirk, their lips still assaulting each other in a series of adoring pecks that failed to cease their entire dive back to their hotel.

The enchanting ambiance of evening washed over them as Valerie transitioned her travel attire to something more appropriate for their intimate dinner. Aptly fitting her position as the world’s White Queen, her irreproachable physique was titillating hugged by a white Tony Ward mini dress, which accentuated her lithe, lengthy and was shameless in displaying the curve of her rounded backside. A posh white Chloe crepe blazer rested in a tasteful style on her shoulders, while an equally ivory pair of Giuseppe Zanotti ankle strap heels further intensified her naturally statuesque height. Letting her hair fall in its iconic cascade of golden tousles, she looked as much the feminine deity of beauty and glamour as she had every second since the moment she was born.

Striding through their palatial hotel suite while attaching an understated pair of Harry Winston diamond studs to her ears, she called out to her dapper darling from where she retrieved a grey python Dior clutch bag. “Rafael, meu amor, are you ready? The sooner we have dinner the sooner I can drag you back here and lock us both in the bedroom,” she sang enchantingly, bringing her devastatingly gorgeous face to a nearby mirror to ensure every detail of her visage was perfection.

@valerie_huntington:

Adorning himself in an Ermenegildo Zegna ensemble characterized by the flair of relaxed elegance, Rafael sharpened his downtime style with the panache of understated luxury, commencing with the tailored fit of a wool and cashmere Madras check blazer worn over a soft wool and cashmere zip-neck sweater and stretch cotton granitée trousers, and concluding with the winter warm touch of a wool knit scarf and dark suede lace-up shoes. Emerging from their palatial suite's lavish bathroom, the sensual woody scent of ENCOUNTER Calvin Klein hung in the air, it's addictive blend of freshness, warm cognac and seductive woods edged closer to the White Queen's statuesque frame as the Portuguese Panther calmly approached from behind.

Provocatively, his hands linger on the curves of her hips, the aromatic intoxication of his enrapturing fragrance titillating his golden-haired siren's sense of smell as he coolly rested his chin atop her right shoulder, his mesmeric, hazel eyes projecting a cool, collected air of poised, noble power and European class as he gazed upon their joint reflections in the unblemished mirror before them. "You look beautiful, meu amor". The soft, exotic notes of his Portuguese inflection hummed into her ears alongside the relaxed bass of his smooth voice, "Although you're beautiful everyday so I suppose reminding you of that with flattery is a little redundant now", he jested with a tame chuckle prior to pressing a doting kiss on her cheek, the saccharine scent of her lotioned flesh reminding of the euphoria, the bliss he experienced in her presence.

Subsequently escorting the enchanting Huntington Heiress from their Savoy Gardens hotel suite to the nurturing interior of their chauffeured BMW X6, the couple maintained mild yet engrossing conversation amid their various displays of affection for the duration of the drive to Restaurante do Forte. Located in the 17th Century constructed San Tiago fortress, the upscale gourmet restaurant boasts breathtaking views of Madeira's city of Funchal as well as flaunting the visually engrossing visage of the sea's serene, sparkling waters. Known for it's uniqueness, the restaurant blends together regional, national and international cuisines, bringing creativity and gastronomical innovation to its delectable dishes. Upon their anticipated ingress, Rafael guides Valerie, her arm affectionately holding onto his, into the restaurant's atmospherically inviting and vibrant interior.

With a romantic themed night offering an intimate, traditional European setting for the Hellfire couple seated in the restaurant's center, the Black Jaguar's mystifying, dark hazel eyes met Valerie's crystal blue gaze, and a tame, tenderhearted smile adorned his spellbinding features. "What do you think?".

@vangelis:

With the faint hum of his foot propulsion systems, Anthony Stark shifted to an upright position in the air, steadying his massive metal frame. Contact with the ground was made, solid, metallic clanking signaling his landing. He stepped forward with graceful ease in the suit toward the door.

The invitation hadn't come with a surprise, in truth, he had been contacted multiple times by different sources; the FBI, CIA, NATO, EU, America, UK, Canada, and about every other country and organization in the world -- Yet the only ones which piqued his limited interest were parties, lots of them. He looked at the doorman as his golden face mask pealed back to reveal that familiar face, a wry smirk bordered by a styled goatee, a twinkle in his eye. Anthony clicked his tongue at some astonished patrons as he walked to the front of the line to speak with the doorman.

"Anthony Stark. I trust the name and dashing good looks haven't been forgotten." The metallic exoskeleton stayed firm to his body, not really wanting to take it off. "Here for party. Oh…" He snapped his mechanical fingers. "Let's hope it doesn't disappoint." He shrugged and pushed past and into the club like he owned it. "I'd tip, but no pockets." He shouted back without so much as turning his head. Now, how had invited him? The mischievous mind in the Annihilator suit had to keep his wits about him. This could be a trap. But for now.

Party.

@cynthetic: Hehehehe.

@the_psyentist: Xenon and Stark are childhood friends, but I may still just seduce you :D

@cynthetic: O_O I doubt it!

@the_psyentist: True, I need a woman who's a little harder, gotta have a challenge, you know?

:P

@cynthetic: Metal-coated bitch!

@the_psyentist:

@rafael_romeiro:

Their setting was breathtaking. Their table was perched overlooking the irrevocable azure ocean, its rolling waves dazzling under the heavenly light of the setting sun. The ocean had always captivated the Huntington Heiress—something about its beauty maintaining a permanency that she had never attained her erratic life. Amid the endless traveling, the flashing lights, the incessant tabloids; the ocean had always been there—unmovable, beautiful, and constantly soothing. She had always had the ocean, and now she had Rafael.

He looked handsome, as he always did, but someone he managed to look more handsome every time she gazed at him. He was unreal in her eyes, the abstract ideal of perfection that she had somehow managed to hold in her arms. His golden-brown eyes looked at her in a way no mad had before, seeing every part of her, and endlessly loving everything he saw. There were still moments she was skeptical as to his existence, that there was someone on this planet or any other that could possibly love her so much. Yet here he was—and there wasn’t a moment she questioned that she loved him just as much.

Reaching a hand across the table, she brushed the back of her fingers along his imposing hands before filling the space between his fingers with her own, giving his hand a gentle squeeze while adorning her irreproachable face with a disarmingly charming grin. “I think it’s perfect. I think you’re perfect,” she enthused, rubbing her foot along his ankle playfully under the table. Her eyes were dazzling—alight with the overwhelming sentiment of love and passionate she experienced every time their skin touched and their eyes met.

As a waiter approached, the man as equally dumbfounded by her beauty as most were, she gracefully ordered herself a glass of white wine before returning her attention to her debonair lover. “You and I have seen just about every magnificent sight there is to see in this world together, and yet somehow we still manage to spend most of our time in our hotel rooms. I wonder why that is,” she teased with an alluring smile, and a playful wink that fluttered her long, dark eyelashes.

Suddenly her face turned pensive—the way it almost always did when she was deciding exactly how to express something with a vulnerability she would never show with anyone but him. “I want a home here, when we’re married,” she said suddenly and with a clear finality on the matter. It was the first time she had mentioned marriage to any man, other than Quintus, in her entire life. And if the idea hadn’t frightened her before her engagement to the Knightfall, the dissolution of their relationship only further terrified the free-spirited siren of even the idea of a permanent commitment. But when she looked at Rafael, the only word that came to mind was forever. Perhaps a series of other indecent words, but, primarily, forever. And if forever meant marriage, there was no one else she’d rather embrace matrimony with in her future. “The Upper East Side will always be my home, and I’d love to raise my children there, or perhaps in Paris. But I want them to spend as much time here as possible, at least every summer, where you became the unbelievable man you are,” she said with tender affection—the prospect of children being another matter she had failed to consider before the Panther King. But he was Rafael. He was the love of her life, and, one day, he would be her husband and the father of her children.

@valerie_huntington:

Cherishing the doting touch, the expressed affection of her delicate, manicured hand as it held onto his, Rafael gently met her eyes with warmhearted intimacy, his Adonic features, his sharp, disarming hazel gaze softening from the sheer instinct of bliss whenever in Valerie's presence. "You wonder why that is, meu amor?", he smiled, the corners of his lips subtly edging upwards as he mildly tilts his head to the side in sportive flirtation. "Maybe because every time we're alone together, it's as joyful as when we first shared our first kiss in that yacht by that beautiful sunset? Except that now we know each other, as we didn't then. And now instead of being two people from two different stories, we belong to one story that started when we met".

Every time they touched, it was with the tenderness, the romanticism of mortals, who seemed to have known themselves since the dawn of time. "I love you. Valerie", he began, forsaking the world about them, his attention resting solely on her. "I love every part of you. Every thought and every word. The entire, fascinating amalgamation of all the things you are. I love them". When they'd first met months ago, he wanted her with ten simultaneous different kinds of need. And he still did. "I love all the seasons of you. The way you are now, the thought of how much more beautiful you'll be in a wedding dress when we both say 'I do'. But above all, I love you because you're the one answer to every question my heart has ever asked, and will ever ask".

To him, there was nothing in the world more captivating than her smile. There was no sound sweeter than her honey-laced laughter. No pleasure greater than embracing her soft lips with his own. His uncle had always told him that if he can conceptualize his life on his own, then he has never known love. It was the day that he first laid eyes upon the White Queen, no matter how much it had once frightened him, that he realized he could never live without her. In this life and the next, she was his central hope of happiness. She had reached so far inside his own heart with such naturalness that it simply felt... right. "We'll have a home here, Valerie. New York and Funchal will both be our children's homes", he smiled.

"The moment I propose to you, and slide that ring onto your finger, it will be me giving you everything I have. Every part of my soul. Even the broken pieces", he paused, his eyes gazing lovingly into hers, "Because your heartbeat.. it's like the pulse that sustains my entire world". Momentarily breaking his gaze from his amore and ordering a glass of Black Label scotch whiskey from the neighboring waiter, Rafael's soon returned to Valerie, awaiting her response.

@cynthetic said:

@vangelis:

With the faint hum of his foot propulsion systems, Anthony Stark shifted to an upright position in the air, steadying his massive metal frame. Contact with the ground was made, solid, metallic clanking signaling his landing. He stepped forward with graceful ease in the suit toward the door.

The invitation hadn't come with a surprise, in truth, he had been contacted multiple times by different sources; the FBI, CIA, NATO, EU, America, UK, Canada, and about every other country and organization in the world -- Yet the only ones which piqued his limited interest were parties, lots of them. He looked at the doorman as his golden face mask pealed back to reveal that familiar face, a wry smirk bordered by a styled goatee, a twinkle in his eye. Anthony clicked his tongue at some astonished patrons as he walked to the front of the line to speak with the doorman.

"Anthony Stark. I trust the name and dashing good looks haven't been forgotten." The metallic exoskeleton stayed firm to his body, not really wanting to take it off. "Here for party. Oh…" He snapped his mechanical fingers. "Let's hope it doesn't disappoint." He shrugged and pushed past and into the club like he owned it. "I'd tip, but no pockets." He shouted back without so much as turning his head. Now, how had invited him? The mischievous mind in the Annihilator suit had to keep his wits about him. This could be a trap. But for now.

Party.

A commotion had seized the audience at the entrance of the dining hall and snapped Eijima from his mental solitude. The glossy armor dancing off the lights was a familiar and iconic aesthetic. It was true. Anthony Stark had risen. He was thee Modern Machiavelli.

Quietly approaching, taking swigs of his San Martin the technopath scanned Stark's equipment activity. Their were multiple sources of energy: heat, particle, electric, kinetic. The particle energy intrigued Eijima the most, his techno-scan read a device installed that converted the particles into an anonymous, unreadable energy oddly enough.

Hooking a MUSE models under his arm, a brunette, Eijima cleared a path leading directly to Stark. With the audience flanking him and his model he introduced himself, "It's an honor Mr. Stark. Though I didn't expect you to show in uniform."he looked over Stark's Annihilator Suit again, seeing a fish eye reflection of him and his brunette on the sheen of his chestplate. "It's a creative beauty." Hired press snapped a rapid onslaught of photos of Stark & Mitsuji's first encounter.

@tranquil The scrying pool was warm with fresh blood as the lich sought out the location of the enigmatic Mr. Archer. He saw the cloaked figure of the Solution about his business. A twisted smile spread across his skeletal features. Telepathically communicating with one of his vampiric minions, the necromancer prepared a blood portal to transport to a nearer location. The corpse who had the misfortune of seeing Tranquil certainly had enough sanguinary life essence left to fuel the teleportation.

Stepping forward into the cool night, his cane tapped the pavement rhythmically. Donning his illusionary mortal coil, he approached Milo. "Mr. Archer. We should talk."

@rezurrection: Alarmed, not only by the unannounced stranger's arrival, but his awareness of who it was beyond the mask and cloak, Milo turned to take view of who it was that called out his name. Unfamiliar with the man, Milo was unsure how to proceed, but refused to reveal that he was caught off guard. "About?" he said, head cocked to the side, visage veiled by the full helmet.

@tranquil: A sinister cackle erupted from the tailored visage. "Oh, don't be too alarmed. Yet. I am… family of Dr. Alexandra Steele. I'm here to make sure you stay away from her. You see, she's going to be in love with King Xenon, and there are those of us who have invested greatly in this pairing." A sly smile was painted upon his human face. "Will that be a problem for you?"

@rezurrection: A full turn was made as Milo's helm retreated into his exaggerated collar and heaven's eyes directed a piercing gaze into the other man's own pupils. "The time that I allowed another to dictate my actions has long passed. I will make seeing Alexandra a priority from this point on. Will that be a problem for you?" Milo met the man's sly grin with a confident smile of his own quite positive that this stranger had no intentions of engaging in combat at this moment in time.

@tranquil: Gregory's disguise was lifted revealing the skeletal visage of the man under transparent skin, his eyes glowing red with an arcane fire. The smile had vanished from his fleshy features, and all that remained was the mirthless grin of his undead skull. "You may find the good doctor to be more resilient to your petulant advances, Keijijo. The vampire's heart is not her own anymore. You would do well not to anger those who have set events in motion since before you were born. This momentum is not one you can stop. I will not engage you. Fighting is for minions. But I will grant you the courtesy of my presence as I tell you myself once more to leave Alexandra alone with her new love."

Stale blood and a stench of death were drawn from the lich, until he was standing within a puddle of his own sanguinary life essence. The red enveloped him completely as he dissolved into the pool, vanishing from the meeting to arrive back at his previous location.

@rezurrection: Before the pool itself dissolved a sample was transported to a pocket dimension by the Keijijo Kaze for heavy analysis in expectation of a future confrontation with the seemingly undead anomaly. "If I cannot stop the momentum, then I guess it will have to be transferred." He thought to himself studying the area in which the anomaly stood prior to his exit.

OHHHH, SNAP. Somebody's bringing the physics.

@the_psyentist: LOL You liked that huh?

@tranquil: Hehe. Yeah. He's all like "I see your bid and I'll raise you."

@the_psyentist: Hahahah. xD

@rafael_romeiro:

She had, since she was a young girl, been uniquely and unfailingly spoiled by an endless shower of affections from men. She had received the most Valentine’s Day cards every year as a child, received the most hopeful suitors for the Debutante Ball as a teenager, and, today, she was worshipped across the globe as the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. In her youth she had fed on it ruthlessly—basking in the glory of knowing with a subconscious assuredness that she would always be desired and irreproachably glamorous.

However, as dates flew by and men continued to compliment her and continued to send her gifts and continued to seek even the smallest portions of her affection, she had grown rather anesthetic to it all; rather cold. The men that chased her, that drove themselves mad with desire for her, they no longer entertained her vicious ego that had been so completely nurtured by the way men and the universe itself seemed to cherish her. Everyone spoiled her, but no one understood her. Until she met Rafael.

Looking into the mesmeric depths of his hazel irises, his eyes forever a haven, a comfort, to her, she was reminded, as she always was in his presence, of a sensation she had yet to experience before he had assumed an immutable position in her life. She felt loved. Not loved in the way her mother had fought furiously to control her life in order to ensure her beloved daughter only recieved the greatest her legacy had to offer. Not loved in the way her brother had stood by her side, refusing to quit believing in his sister even as Valerie fell into the dark vices of drugs, alcohol, and reckless partying. And not in the way the world loved her—adoring and idolizing the every move, the every facet, of the irrevocably beautiful and alive Huntington Heiress. Rafael loved her in a way, with a deepness, all his own—understanding and embracing every detail of her character with his sound, resolute affections.

Her delicate fingers continued to toy dotingly with his hands as he spoke, the sounds of his Portuguese tone melting away the world around them until nothing existed but the other, each of them helplessly lost in their love for one another.

“I’ve put very little thought into my dream wedding, despite its appeal to most girls and women,” she spoke softly, once again opening herself to him as she had never done with anyone, perhaps with Mercy, before. “I never had thoughts as to what my dress would look like, where I would be, and especially who I would be marrying. It all seemed rather…boring, to me. I never wanted to be anything but free. Free to do as I like, go where I like, see who I like. But now—when I look at you—” she said tenderly, her powder blue eyes gazing into his as though they had been looking at him for centuries, and had still yet to fully capture all of his marvelous, masculine beauty. “I can’t imagine myself as anything but yours, now. I don’t what to do anything if it’s not with you, I don’t want to go anywhere if you’re not there, and I don’t want to see anyone who can’t make me feel the way you do. I love you, Rafael Romeiro,” she said with a delicate smile before taking one of his large, rough hands, in both of her supple ones, to place a single tender kiss on his skin; never needing to go to great expressive lengths for him to understand the love she felt for him. They were one soul, created and in love before either had been born, and what one of them felt, so did the other.

“However, ‘wife’ is such an ugly word,” she commented wittingly, the sharpness of her willful character returning from the softness of her adoration of him. Even in the deepest depths of her devotion to him, she would never lose the innate unaffected aliveness of her character—her stubborn refusal to follow the beat of anyone’s drum but her own. “I think ‘permanent mistress’ is so much more tangible and desirable,” she said with a feline smirk, her arctic blue eyes alight with quipping delight.

Gothic City, above the GCPD Central Station

It had all been going well, too well, in fact. In love, happy, and having nearly everything his heart had set itself on. Or so he had thought. Bounding back into the Gothic Warehouse after a session with Doctor Steele, the Gothic Knight felt his joyous grin falter, and slowly turn into a confused, pained frown.

W-Where was his Xia? He had shaken his head, and felt his mouth run dry, his heart throbbed like it would explode, and he.... Just sat down, had she let nerves get the better of her? Given in to her anxiety and abandoned everything? Had he been to open, too pushy? Had he taken it too fast?

He sighed, standing upon the Gothic rooftop, and looking over at his City, the City of Sin which he had come to call home. He couldn't continue, not without Xia. Not alone, it was too much to bear... Losing her, after everything...

"Where the Hell are you," he thought, his bow held between his palm, a shaky palm. His bow vanished, and he placed his trion arm to his face, speaking into it, calling a friend: Satomi. Beep beep beep.

No answer. For Christ sake, where are you Satomi? The ONE time I actually needed you, and I bet you're off with Jackie in some nightclub or something. He sighed, and phoned somebody else, his next closest ally. "Tom, I need someone found. Xia Queen, don't bother searching Gothic, Miss Queen isn't here." He said, having used every possible resources in his life to try and locate the girl. In truth, he was more worried than sad.... What had happened to her? Xia wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye, would she? No... She was too kind for that, too infatuated, even. They had had an amazing night, there wasn't any reason for her to leave.

Something had happened, and he knew it.

Canada, Toronto - A few hours later....

The chilly Canadian breeze barely phased Kurt, his eyes set upon the early morning sun as he simply stood, hands within his warm trousers pockets and sighed.

He had located Xia a few hours ago, apparently within some random store, what the hell? Xia's only family was back in Gothic, right? So.... This was all so abrupt, so strange. With a heavy heart, the archer left the dockyard, and gradually made his way towards the location where Xia was apparently staying... He had to make sure she was safe, and if she didn't want him, for whatever reason, that was... Fine. But he had to know she was safe, above all else.

He walked towards the Canuck's corner store, and pressed it open, the door chimed as he entered. Now comes the hard part. He thought, wandering around to the counter, he smiled. "I'm here to find someone, her name is Xia, Xia Queen, I was told she was staying here?" He said, smiling, a fake smile. "I'd really appreciate some help."

@xia

@pyrogram: Scorn peeked out from the doorway to see Kurt at the counter. "Pendragon? What the hell are you doing here?" His brows furrowed over his black eyes, his lips curling, baring his sharp, white teeth. His clawed hand rested on his knife hilt. He wasn't sure why Xia had sought him out, but her tears were enough to keep him from asking too many questions as he fixed her a cot. Now, Kurt was here, no doubt looking for her. If he had been the cause of her sorrow... he'd skewer him through.

@xia:

Kurt's olive eyes quickly shift, noticing Scorn, and instantly his own palm touched his gun holster, preparing for a fight. "I don't want trouble, Scorn." He said, taking his palm from his gun, and placing them both on the counter, harmlessly. "I just want to see Xia and ask her a few questions. We were in Gothic... Had a date, and when I came back?" He sighed. "She was gone. The next thing I know, she's here, with you, and I want to know why," he removed his palms, and looked down, and then up. "Is Xia safe?"

@pyrogram: Scorn scoffed. "Of course she's safe. Safer than she's ever been with you, apparently. You let her get captured by that psycho albino? What kind of a moron are you? She didn't tell me why she left. Just was too emotional. And if you were the cause of that, it's going to take a lot more than a few bullets to stop me, Kurt." He growled.

@xia:

"Shut the hell up, Scorn," he walked past the man, going to stand right in his face, and glared. "I didn't do anything to Xia. And I was going to ask you to help me kill Vein," he admitted, folding his arms, and he looked down. "The same way I paid for you to capture Cobra."

@pyrogram: Scorn laughed. "You can't kill Vein. Trust me. I've tried more times than I can count..." His eyes gazed up to the ceiling. "That may be a slight exaggeration. STILL, he's a ghost. And your energy only feeds him. But whatever." The amphibian stared hard at Kurt. "You just stay right here. I'll talk to Xia. If she even wants to see you, I'll send her out." He stepped further into the shop.

After quite sometime, a puffy-eyed Xia emerged, her arms wrapped around her lithe frame. "Kurt, you shouldn't be here."

@xia:

"I'll see about that,"Kurt thought, fully intending to find a way to eradicate Vein's presence on the earth. He had hurt Xia, and even if Kurt didn't get him now, or even in a year from now, eventually, he'd kill that sick bastard. Suddenly, a gut wrenching feeling turned his stomach, seeing a sight of a puffy-eyed, sad Xia. What had happened? He almost felt tears well up, wanting to just embrace her in a loving hug... But he didn't understand, at all. "X-Xia, what happened?" He said, approaching her, but not touching. "I thought we were having fun, did I hurt you without realizing?" He sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry, did I take it too fast?" His green eyes peered back up. "We can go slower, if you want?"

@pyrogram: "No..." She turned away. "It shouldn't be taken at all. Your father was right. I'm no good for you. You'll get bored and find someone better than me. I'm... nothing."

@xia:

My father? What the hell? "My father is dead, what are you talking about?" He creased his brow, that hadn't been expected in the slightest, and he moved back a bit, shocked. "I buried my father, Xia." He looked down, towards the ground, shaky. "Why are you saying those things? Why did you believe a random person telling you them, do I mean nothing to you? I told you how I felt and then... You let someone get into your head, a random man, a man faking to be my DEAD father." He sighed. "I wouldn't ever get bored of you..." Kurt turned away too, feeling tears welling up, how the hell could it have been his father? His father... wad dead."... I love you." He whispered, almost silently.

@pyrogram: Xia's brow furrowed as well. "Don't call me a liar, Kurt. I know what I saw. He smelled similar to you, and he had this." She thrust the photo out toward him between her fingers. "He told me that you didn't really love me, that I was no good for you. And he might be right. Kurt, you started dating me right after Sangria's death. What if it's all just... I don't know..." Her voice cracked as the tears started again.

@xia:

Kurt grasped the picture, and looked down towards it... And a tear hit it, this was the only version of the image which existed. That had to mean... He dropped the image, and grasped his mouth, gulping. "M-My father's alive?" His palms shook, unsure how to take the information, and unsure what to even say to Xia. He just sighed, and listened to her words. She wasn't wrong, she wasn't a rebound either, Kurt wasn't that type of guy... Well, Zoe was the rebound, Xia was... The real thing. He clenched his jaws, tight, then turned and gazed at Xia, his green eyes welling up with tears. "Just please come back to Gothic with me, Xia. You're not some rebound I'll replace.... I promise." He didn't have the heart, nor soul, to persuade her. He just needed to go home, and find his dad.

@pyrogram: Xia looked up at him sorrowfully. "How do I know that? How do you know that? I... I don't want my heart broken..." She looked down. She sounded so selfish. If he needed her, if he wanted her, what was the problem? The girl shook her head. "I'm sorry. I... I'm not even considering how you feel. I left without so much as a word. I'm sure I hurt you." Her foot pushed dust along the floor. "If you really want me to come back, I will, I guess..."

@xia:

"Okay, Xia, you want to know how I know?" He began, knowing these words would not just hurt him, but her, but the truth was better than lies, and it was eating away at him, too. "I once dated a woman called... Nova. We met up, last week, and we slept together." He said, his eyes looking down, and a tear trickling. "She was the rebound. SHE was the one whose heart I broke, okay?" He raised his voice, but more so in self-loathing, nothing truly directed at Xia. "And she realized I was in love with somebody else, in love with you, Xia," he gazed up, "and I don't want to go back to Gothic alone, I can't. Not without you, not without the woman I love... I can't have my heart broken... Again." And broken, because of... What!? "Wait what? Why did my father tell you that, I don't understand?"

@pyrogram: Xia felt sick hearing about Nova. She hated the thought of Kurt with someone else. It made her feel jealous. It made her feel inferior. And he broke her heart? If he did that to her... couldn't he do the same to Xia? She whimpered. "He said awful things. But there was always a kernel of truth." Xia looked up into Kurt's eyes. "I don't want your heart broken because of me." She rushed over and wrapped her arms around him. "I want you to be happy."

@xia:

"I want us to be happy," he said, holding her tight, tears streaming down his face as he affectionately pressed her head to his chest, both out of love, and not wanting her to see his teary eyes. "Whatever my father said, it isn't true. I could never leave you, Xia. You aren't nothing. You're my everything." Cliched, yet true words. "Now, go back to Gothic?" He said, breaking away from their hold, and wiping a tear from his own eyes. "I think my father owes us an explanation."

@pyrogram: Xia nodded sniffling. "Okay, Kurt. Let's go back to Gothic. Canada is too cold anyway."