#1 Edited by Clara Mass (8087 posts) - - Show Bio

May 2010 - The Morning After

"It's me." She can't help but admire his astonishing physique. "It's Clarice." Every inch is so tight and divine, so much so it'd make a straight man reconsider. "Thought you'd be here." A star so bright shined inside a grungy motel six, where two men lie comfortably together. "I was right." And to some this might be satanic, but for her it might as well be a wet dream come true.

Sweetness on a stick. I knew I'd find an aphrodisiac in New Orleans, and here he is. I always wanted a homosexual friend from beyond, and this one even has got some legitimate perks. Powers, prowess, and the most perfect ass I've ever seen. Oh goodness gracious, I think I've caught jungle fever. Hope my husband doesn't find out.

"I didn't know Conan O'Brien was here." She mocked the pretty white ginger draped in royal blue. "Listen, Atticus you've got something special and I want it. And what Clarice wants, Clarice gets", she taps her temple knowing what he thinks, "You're intelligent, savvy, and most of all conscientious so you won't get up and beat a senator's wife. Hurting a defenseless white woman still works in the twenty-first century." She pouts innocently, amused that he honestly believes racism is ancient folklore. "I see a grand future between you and I. Come with me now or you'll live life like a land line, unappreciated and very much forgotten." A titled head and grimace some gruesome, she couldn't wait to play with her latest personal purchase.

May 2013 - Three Years Later

"Good evening my little chocolate drop. I know it's been some time since our last quarrel, but I thought you'd be willing to catch a show with little old me. I know it's last minute, but would you please be a doll and spare some time for your favorite mentor? I promise it'll be worth your while." She twirled her curly brown locks as his seductive voice entered her receptor. His words however aren't at all comforting. "Come on! Don't be such a diva. You're a handsome, powerful, and rich because of me. Now return the favor and help me or else. Or else I ruin you from the ground up." Her devilish smirk on display and a countenance so disturbing, the brash brunette doesn't play whenever she demands a favor.

@_sojourn_

#3 Posted by _Sojourn_ (19321 posts) - - Show Bio

She came into his life unnaounced, quite purposefully, and possibly, if you have a skewed sence of right and wrong, at the best time possible. Flowing like a mighty river, instantly there was a spark within him. Later though, he would find out that it was just her making a good mental impression. However, it was his longing for a home away from home that drive their odd and separating relationship. Her name, Clara Michelle. Classic beauty, modelesque figure, and above all else a mind to take any raging storm.

Clara Michelle, her name was an aphrodisiac to those who liked to taste poison. But never mind her blatant flaws. Atticus was hers in a way, belonging to her until a certain debt was paid, and with her interest was expected. She had found him rummaging through garbage bins in search of food. She approached him, offering her Midas touch; a helping hand that seemed so sweet at the time. Although as much as he disliked her maniacle ways, Atticus liked her company... somewhat. In his destitution, she have him money, clothes, men, and above all else a purpose. He in turn, although unwittingly gave her a story, the ironic tale of how he was forced from his home, how he was too proude to be a peasant working some dead end useless job. How his royal blood was meant for greatness. Now Atticus was not a dummy, he could figure his way out of most things, but when manipulation is as easy as breathing, as it was for Clara, the tiniest model of pride can be fashioned into shackles.

This night, after a long break from each other, a night both of them would rather forget, she called. And of all things, she wanted nothing more than to spend quality time together. He was not so naive as to think she meant what she said. "Clara... He sighed... "After last time. It will be a long long while before you and I are within ten feet of each other." He hoped against history that his quash would quell her desire for him, but after what she returned he knew there was no other choice. "Alright... He sighed again. "I'll be ready in half an hour, I'll meet you in front of the Turquoise Lion" it was a lively bar, one where there were to many people for a scene and easy enough to spot in the litany of bright lights.

Address: 2457 K Street Washinton D.C

#4 Edited by Clara Mass (8087 posts) - - Show Bio

@_sojourn_: She couldn't hear her own thoughts as the hustle and bustle of the Turquoise Lion smacked against her ear drums. "Tacky." Miss Michelle felt frazzled as drunken men slobbered on whomever was nearest. "Why do you come here?" Her superficial personality could not be contained as she turned to her apathetic acquaintance. "I mean no offense, but I thought you were better than this." For all her shallowness the brash broad felt the need to share her opinion on her dearest Atticus. She thought he'd be more into candle light dinners rather than partying till the a.m. Than again she never really cared to learn much about this magnificent man. Instead she used him whenever given the opportunity. "Oh god." She tapped her bottom lip as thoughts rushed into her beautiful mind. "I'm an idiot. I must apologize", she instinctively caressed his broad shoulder as the marvelous music got bodies moving, "Tell me about yourself. What's been going on since our last meeting?" If she were to get what she truly wanted, sucking up had to happen. Her knack for kissing ass was remarkable.

#5 Posted by _Sojourn_ (19321 posts) - - Show Bio

@clara_mass:

Everyone was coated in beautiful aquamarine lighting, shaded with the darkness of the all night affair. People around them moved, sweat dripping from their bodies, and yet the only smells were those of alcohol and bathroom sex. Pheromones wafted through the air as well, making Clara all the more intriguing. He ordered a drink, something he'd taken such a liking to in this time. "Well, Clara, I think you'll be glad to know that my leg healed very nicely." He laughed, and went on to a more serious tone. "If it's one thing you are not, it is an idiot." The drink arrives at the table, he sips the golden liquid and bites down on a wedge of lime. The moments when the glass went up to his face, he watched her splintered image, muddled by drink, and he could only think, "Is this what she actually looks like"

"My story is the same as last time I told you. Only now, I'm much fonder of this world and its tequila. When I first got here from my reality, I hated everything. And now, look at me...I'm all strung up" He knew she would get his note. She was a puppeteer, masterful at attaching invisible strings to whatever, usually, whoever she wanted, ready to pull at a moments notice. She had pulled him tonight. "So my darling Clara." His hazel eyed gaze intensifies, he reaches for her hand steadied on the small table caressing it lightly. "Lets cut the bs, why are we here?"

In the background, lights, music, movement. All of it whirring around them, like a vortex, and they were the center. It was what they had in common, they loved having eyes on them. No matter how much they wanted to say otherwise.