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Scene Title Simple
Synopsis Rated PG-13 for partial nudity, excessive drinking and implied sexual activity. In a time when the world is constantly on fire, simple has become a rare and appreciate ware.
Date November 04, 2010

Staten Island

An old hideout of Ash's, it is a worn-down apartment.

Some time after New Familiar Faces

At the…the Copa. Copacabana….The hottest spot…n-north of Havana….

Somewhere in the night, two strangers met up in a bar. Pool was played, drinks were drank, bets were won and lost. Lola Mayeux, A.K.A. a lot of other things, has a really spotty memory of last night. They stopped by a liquor store, and maybe a few other places? Hard to say, since she started tilting the bottle back. And for some reason or another - well, the room will tell the story.

Here at the Copa, Copa-banana, music and passion were…um…always….hic…the fashion…

The room is a hidden old place of Ash's on Staten, with a few furnishings, heat and hot water. It would have been dull even for the cockroaches normally. But this is not a normal morning. There is a sliver of light coming through the curtains, although they are drawn. Chairs are overturned. Cigarette butts have been snuffed out and dropped haphazardly all over the place. There is a ton of string, for some reason, and scrabble peices all over the floor - though where they came from is anyone's guess.
Lola's own memory of the night goes entirely black after the strip tease. To be fair, Ash won it, and she provided it as she was required. She had her fun with it, although for Ash it would have been a learning experience. Not only was the woman packing - two guns that she removed in order to get down to her female skivvies - but she was also wearing a kevlar vest underneath that t-shirt. That removed, the man got a nice look at all of her scars - the burn on her left arm, the raised, jagged entry and exit holes through her right shoulder, another set of the same on her side and the biggest one right above her navel, where the scars seem a bit cleaner. But that is clearly the most dangerous of the wounds she's had recently.
Those scars are visable now, as Lola sits in the bathtub. She's wearing a simple cotton bra and panties with little colorful lizards all over them. Over this ensamble she wears one of Ash's cheap button-downs that she dug out of someplace. Could be someone else's button down really, she didn't ask. Her hair has been pulled up.

His name was Rico, he wore a diamond….he was escorted to his chair…or something….he saw all the dancers there.

That drunk singing is her, from said bath-tub. Her hair has been pulled up in a wildly odd manner, with what appears to be a large quill-feather that has been colored yellow with a highlighter stuck in the bun, just so it stands up and a little to the left. One leg and arm hang out of the bath-tub, and at least it's not on. But it looks like Lola is drinking something…is that a bottle of lime-juice? What kind of party was that?

When she'd finished, he called her over…and….did something handsy, moren'n likely, an Tony sailed 'cross the bar….an….

Ash wakes up on the mattress in the little bedroom and peers around, blinking slowly as he sees everything through the doorway. "What the fu…." He grunts, and pushes up to a sitting position, his eyebrows furrowing together, forhead wrinkling some. "What the fuck was in that drink?" He asks, grumbling deep in his chest as he pushes up to his feet, then looks down with a few blinks. He's wearing… slacks, and a tie, but no shirt. He blinks a few times and shakes his head, moving over to the dresser and pulling out a pair of jeans and another t-shirt, getting dressed quickly before he walks out into the living room.
"Don't remember any of this…" He lifts a hand, scratching fingers through his hair, though the sight of the cigaretes has him peering about, as he doesn't smoke, would never smoke. He sighs, then makes his way towards the bathroom, peeking around inside before his eyes settle on Lola. "Looks like the trainwreck took you with it." He murmurs as he leans against the door frame, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Any clue what the hell happened last night?" Then he blinks as he realizes she's in her underwear, looking down at her for a few seconds before he looks around for a towel, but finds none, so just grunts and shrugs before sitting down on the toilet lid.

Lola's crooning stops - much to the delight of the wild street cats living outside who have had to listen to it for two hours - as Ash comes in. She smirks, sitting back in the tub as though it were full of warm water and suds and she were just taking a long soak. "I'm pretty sure Ah'm still drunk, sugar," Lola croons, offering him the bottle she's taking hits off of. "Here ya go, help yerself." As she rolls over toward him, she flinches. Curious herself, she rolls the rest of the way against the side of the tub and pulls up the back of the open shirt, where she has a nice red handprint, most likely bruising, right on her left ass cheek. She looks at it, then at Ash, then back. And then she grins. "Oh yeah, Ah remember that…." She laughs a little and settles back down, slinging one leg to hang out of the bath tub. She watches Ash with a smirk. "Didn' think a pretty lil Yankee boy like you'd know how ta have a good time, but Ah gotta say, from what Ah kin tell, Ah'm

Ash rubs his palm over his face slowly, scrubbing at his features. He doesn't have a hangover, but then he very rarely does. His metabolism is rather high, and the copious amounts of water he drinks at all times kind of help counteract the presence of alchohol after the fact. He looks down at the bottle, then gives a slow little shrug as he reaches down to take it, only to pause at the wince of pain. His eyes move over her, looking for some kind of injury, only to blink a few times at the handprint, and the size of the handprint. Very few men have hands the size of his. He reaches his hand down, and settles it over the bruised, curling his fingers to fit it to where he very obviously must have smacked her on the ass pretty hard the night before.
His hand stays there for a few seconds against her bruised flesh before it pulls away, a grunt leaving the man. He lifts the bottle up to take a swig, only to cough a bit. "Where the hell did we get Absinthe? No fucking wonder I was out cold and you're in a bathtub singing…" He looks down and leans over the edge of the tub a bit, still sitting on the toilet. "Glad you remember last night, because I damn sure don't. I remember getting in, and you starting to take your clothes off, and then nothing, and I don't black out much…"

Lola laughs, slinging herself up just enough so that she can straddle the side of the bath tub. She shakes her head, that highlighter-feather swinging wildly as she does so. One shoulder of the man's large shirt slides down, and Lola doesn't seem to mind letting it just hang there. "It's good ta black out every now'n again, sugar. Reminds ya that yer still alive, or somethin'. Shame fer you though, ya missed all the good parts. Well, least the strip dance. Ain' never had ta do one a them ta Rhianna though, can' say much fer her singin' voice." She reaches forward, haphazardly reaching across Ash to grope for the bottle. "Besides, all we know you'n me'll be dead in a couple a days, what with the end a the world comin' on. Figure it might's well go off with a big party. An Ah gotta do it now, sicne Ah'm pretty sure Ah'll be killin' come 'round that night." She's become more free and easy in admitting what she does to him. It's strangely…comfortable, to just talk and sit around and be drunk.

Ash doesn't let her have the bottle right back though. He lifts it to his lips for another swallow before settling it on his thigh and watching her, a curious look in the man's eyes. He apparently had a hell of alot of fun the night before, and if the handprint is any indicator he was very m8uch enjoying her presence. It's been a long while since Ashley Williams has loosened up enough to have some fun. "You could always give me another dance to make up for the one I lost thanks to this shit." He taps the bottle and waves it around a bit befor ehe hands it over to her, though his eyes do wander a little bit. Why not? After all, as she's said, they might all be dead in a few days.
He turns to face her though, eyes moving along her bare legs and then upwards, to the shirt and up to her face. He reaches up, and plucks the quill out of her hair, holding it in front of her to peer at it befor ehe snorts and tosses it out into the living room. "Yeah…" he murmurs sadly to the mention of being dead. "And I'll probably be out in the streets hunting Institute and FRONTLINE if things are gonna be like they say, though I've only heard bits and pieces of what is supposed to happen."

Lola laughs, settling back down rather hard on her rear as she straddles the tub again, leaning back as sshe turns the bottle full-tilt to enjoy it. Mmmm dericious. One thing Ash was certainly right about - little things like that seem to be able to put away way more liquor than they should. And what an Exibit A Lola seems to make. She laughs, setting the bottle on the tub rim between her legs.
"Kinda hard ta be strippin' if Ah ain' got nothin' on ta strip, but Ah spoze Ah kin give it a go." She's very easy-going, this one! His words make her curious, though, and she watches him a bit more. "Institute. Done heard tell a little bout that, but don' know much for it. Know Ah got turned down from 'em. Makes 'em enemy nuff ta me. Ya get in trouble, sugar, ya don' hesitate ta come lookin' fer me. Ah got more grenades an guns stacked away fer this little party…" Tilt.

Ash leans back a bit on the toilet before he nods hsi head, and pushes up from his sitting position. "Well, either way, the bathroom isn't really the best place to hang out and drink unless you plan ot be throwing up so…" He slides an arm around her, and scoops her up effortlessly, her smaller body cradles in one arm, the bottle picked up by the other hand as he turns and carries her out into the living room. She's deposited lightly in the recliner, and he sits down on the couch, leaning his head back some. He takes a long pull from the bottle before passing it back over. "Institute hunt us down, capture us. Alot like the fucking Company did, only less humane. They treat us like animals. So I treat them the same. I kill them, every time I come across them. I've killed dozens of the fuckers in various engagements." He laughs lightly though and winks over at her. "Oh guns I have. You should have seen the bottom floor of this place before I cleared it out." He lets his eyes trail over her once again before he lifts hsi hands up, and laces hsi fingers behind his head, the man's muscled form just kind of… .lounging, which is not something he can often be found doing.
"Where are you gonna be on the 8th then? Had yourself a vision? Or are you like me and have no fucking clue?" He tilts his head to the side, popping his neck, then straightens it.

Lola likes being carried! It's not a sensation she's used to, as men don't find her the carrying type, and anyone else who is carrying her usually isn't taking her someplace that she wants to go. She doesn't squeal or squirm, but in fact just sits comfortably and relaxes. As he sets her down she plants a quick little kiss on his cheek - it just seemeed appropriate. Princess Leia did it, and to her brother no less. Fairly certain that Ash is not her brother, Lola feels comfortable in this decision.
"Naw sugar, Ah had mah vision. Looks ta me like Ah'll be doin' some work fer an old friend, killin' some folk. Cops maybe, Ah dunno the details, but there will be killin." She sits up, crawling over him to deposit her head and shoulders on his lap so she can look up at the ceiling. And, you know, take another hit from the bottle. "Cops maybe. Ain' real sure yet. Don' know that Ah'm gonna make it through though, that's fer certain. Don' know much a who is."

Ash didn't expect her to fight back, but is somewhat surprised by the sheer relaxation of the little woman being carried about. When he goes to set her down and gets a kiss on the cheek there's a bit of surprise there before he realizes she's probably alot more comfortable with him after last night than he realizes since he seems to remember even less of what happened.
Ash looks down as she lays her head in his lap, the man's body shifting a little bit. He removes hsi hands from behind his head, and settles one of them down on her stomach, fingers curling to scritch at it a few times before the hand just spreads out and sits there, covering the entirety of his stomach with that hand. "I have no fucking clue if I will either. Suppose it's a good thing I had some fun then. Haven't relaxed enough to have any fun in a long time." He takes the bottle from hre with a little smirk on his lips and tilts it back, taking a long swallow of the absinthe, wincing some before handing it back and swallowing his mouthful down.

Her belly moves a little bit, gently, as she giggles. Yes, his hand there makes this assasain giggle. "Ya know Ah always thought ya were this super hard-ass. Didn' know how ta smile or nothin'. Least, that's the way Ah'd always done seen ya. Well, 'tween that time an the time ya almost broke mah hand fer pickin' pockets." He'll probably be checking his pockets on the way out anyway, which is probably a smart decision.
She takes the bottle and lets it rest just above her bust, on the flat of her chest. She continues watching him, and she almost looks happy. Almost, given their lives, but almost is pretty damn close all the same. "How come ya do it all? Ah mean, go out an kill folk and all the rest of it. Ah already told ya Ah do it fer safety. An there's lotsa folks out there pissed like you, but they don' go straight from suckin' on mama's tit ta stranglin' someone with yer…really bigass hands." She giggles again, setting her hand over his, marvelling at the size difference.

Ash rubs his hand along her stomach now, almost caressing her belly through the shirt she's wearing. And yes, it is his shirt, the thing is huge on her, made for someone of his rather impressive stature. "I am for the most part." he admits to her. "Or rather, I've become this way. I've had to. I skipped town for a bit after leaving Adam's little group, and when I came back the Institute tried to nab me. They've been hunting me ever since then. I've not had any choice in shit." He sighs then, tilting his head back. "I actually used to be a pretty nice fucking guy. Loved to have fun and shit. Grew up here, was born here. Took part in the underground street fights, still do, but then I was partying and having a great time until they threw me in prison. Power manifested during a fight and I accidentally killed the guy I was fighting. Was sentenced to ten years for manslaughter. They took me from the prison upstate, to MOAB, then I was dropped out of there on my ass in the middle of a corn field in Vermant or Virginia or something like that."
HIs shoulders shrug some then, his eyes finding hers in his lap. "And that's why I fight, and that's why I kill. So injustice like that doesn't happen anymore. Prison for killing the guy I can understand to a degree since they didn't know about the Evolved then, but MOAB? And being in prison for manslaughter after they found out about powers? Fuck them. Being hunted like a fucking animal? Fuck them. I hunt them back, and I'm damn fucking good at it. My body count now is well over a hundred. Between national guard and Institute at the hospital, not to mention the jet fighter, and institute, DHS, and shit in everything else… I've got alot of fucking blood on my hands." H elooks down though at the giggling and the hand over top of his, cracking a smile at the sight of that small hand over top of his own huge one. That hand then slides up beneath the shirt, and his fingers begin to run over her smooth bare belly.

His hand will only feel smooth for so long. Soon it will feel the roughness of bullet scars, wounds that will never quite go away. She doesn't seem to mind though, her hand just falls away and lets him. It feels good, it feels nice to be touched in such a simple and unthreatening way. "Prison's a bitch," Lola agrees. "Ah got lucky, though. Ah went ta prison fer shootin' the guy that shot mah mama. Manifsted then, near as Ah kin tell, but there weren' a blood test back then, so no way for anyone to tell. Ah served mah couple a yaers afore a very nice mobster got me out an had me stackin' cards at a local casino." She stares up at the ceiling as she talks, swigging from the bottle again.
After a moment of consideration, Lola shifts a little so that she can look up at Ash a little bit easier. He's certainly not bad to look at, besides. "So terrorism, ya said. Ya one a them Messiahs then? Can' hear the word 'terrorist' no more without hearin' the word 'Messiah' comin' right before or after it."

Ash doesn't seem to mind the scars, his fingers in fact seem to run over and around them, exploring the edges and feel of the scars. God knows the man has enough of them on his body. Just his forarms show evidence of what can only have been shrapnel. Lots of little scars, jagged, curved, straighte, all manner of them, but all small along the outside of his forarms. His fingers continue to pet over her stomach, the man enjoying the simple, easy, comfortable contact as well. It's not often he gets to relax like this, and well, not often he gets to just touch someone like this. His fingertips slide along the waistline of the panties lightly before moving back up to find the bullet scar and run around it a bit more. He chuckles at the mention of having killed the man who killed her mother. "I can sympathize there, though I didn't go to prison for killing the fucker that killed my mother. My dad was a well known drunk and he'd been in plenty of trouble. So when I blew his brains out for killing my mom the cops just shrugged and let me go. I was… 14 or 15 at the time." He shakes hsi head a little bit. "It helped that he'd shot me first and tried to kill me, so it was self defense."
The question earns a light laugh before his head nods. "Yeah, I'm Messiah. Been with them almost since their inception. When the Institute came for me, I got half of them. 8 out of the sixteen men sent to get me. A few of my comrades came to my rescue. They took out the other 8, and got me the hell out of there. Saved me. Felt like the right thing to do, join up. And I can honestly say, I've been alot happier having a purpose and people to fight beside."

"Stayin' alive ain' a bad purpose," Lola says, as though to defend her own life. She smirks at him as she feels his hand moving about, but she doesn't move to stop him. If anything, she slides down a little, to make his little pets and gentle touches easier. "Just 'cause Ah don' wanna be the one what dies don' make me dishonorable or somethin,"
She sighs, her opposite hand coming up to pet along Ash's forearm, feeling his own scars and well, you know. Insane muscles. "See now Ah know yer gonna be trouble for me though," Lola says, matter of factly. That smirk comes back across her lips as she looks up at the man, content but miscehvious still. Then she looks back at his arm. "Men what done kilt their daddies - most of 'em who do deserve it, most daddies do, Ah guess - always seem ta get me in trouble. Hell, that scar yer touchin' right now is courtesy of an old friend what kilt his daddy. Right in front a me, too."

Ash looks down and chuckles a little bit at the statements he recieves in return. "I didn't say it was dishonorable, or bad to not have an over riding purpose other than surviving and living. It's what I was doing when I worked for Adam. Nothing wrong with it at all." He smiles and pats her stomach lightly before his hand starts to trail upwards, only to stop and still against her ribs. "Sorry… not meaning to be quite so … familiar." he curls hsi fingers to let her know what he means, all the petting and stuff. "Been a long time since I sat down with… hell anyone, like this, let alone an attractive, if very scampish, little thing like you."
His eyes flicker down to watch the hand trail along his forarm. There's a few actual blade scars on his arm besides the shrapnel scars, leaving hsi skin a mural to his past.
"Trouble? Oh yes, I'm definitley that. I had a girlfriend, when I was working for Adam, but she had an issue with allowing me to help her with her situations and problems. She got into alot of trouble, but she knew how I'd handle them, and kept me in the dark… things didn't work out… but it kind of taught me that I'm not really relationship material, not with my lifestyle." He sighs a bit, a sad look crossing his features. "And my dad more than deserved it. That fuck used to beat my mom regularly. I'd piss him off so he'd take it out on me, but sometimes I just couldn't take another beating and I'd have to listen to him beat her. so when he came in with his gun, shot me, and then shot her… I didn't hestiate. I pulled i tout of the back of his pants, and put a bullet through the back of his head." he chuckles lightly, and his fingers caressing over the skin just beneath her bust, lightly running over the flesh there.

Lola laughs, becoming equally fascinated with his arm as he seems to be with her midsection. She likes looking at his muscles. Not only from a feminine perspective, either. There are statues that look like this man, statues that she would steal if only she could carry them. "Ya keep sayin' scampish like it's a bad thing, darlin," Lola teases, giving him a playful little pinch. "Though ta be fair ya don' seem the type a fellah that would give up on an idea just cause it didn' work out once." She shrugs, setting the bottle down and allowing both her hands to fondle his arm muscles. Yes. Fondle!
"Yer hands ain' botherin' me, sugar. Ya ain' druggin me, like Adam did, nor shootin' me, nor electrocutin' me nor any the rest of it. Ya ain' doin' nothin' but nice, so you go right on an do it." She watches his arm still, a thoughtful expression coming across her face as she listens. "Well you an Ah got a shit lot in common, then. Both killin' folk, both started out protectin' our mothers. Like we're siblins or somethin'." Siblings who spank and/or pet each other.

Ash does seem relaxed, far more than Lola ever saw him before, not that she saw him all that many times before last night though. He breathe sin slowly, then lets it out, a soft sigh that helps to bleed a fair bit of tension out of the man's body. He picks up the bottle with his free hand, or rather, the one which is being petted, and lifts it to his lips, having ot bend over some to get it there, and takes a long swig before lowering the bottle to her lips for her to sip from it. "Usually no." he admits as he tucks the bottle between his legs, to the side of her face. "Usually… I don't give up on anything. But I wasn't really relationship material to begin with. But … thought, maybe there was a fucking chance… turns out there wasn't, and probably never will be." His broad shoulders lift in a slow shrug before settling down.
He listens to her talk of things they have in common, a slight smile building on the man's lips as her hands continue to run over his arm. He sees the fascination with the muscle there, and in response he curls his fingers and tenses it, making it easier for her to touch and explore. "I can't say I've ever had someone just pet my arm like that either." He murmurs. His other hand, the one on her stomach moves up a bit more, and he runs the tip of his middle finger up along her solar plexus, the digit sliding between her bosom, though only for a couple of seconds before his hand resumes petting over her stomach, occasionally a brush of fingertips will run along the skin just beneath her bust, and down along the waistband of her panties, but nothing more forwards than that, at least for the time being. "I don't think Siblings smack eachother on the ass hard enough to bruise." he murmurs, his hand leaving her stomach for a moment to lower down and pat her little rear end to emphasize the bruised handprint there.

"Don' be so depressing sugar." Lola complains, though she does so very lightly. "One relationship tanks ain' the end a the world. Hell, look at Old English an me. Not that that were a real relationship. Was hired ta be there, really. S'why Ah never slept with him. Couldn' stand the idea a sleepin' with a fellah not a my own free choice, ya know?" She grins up at him, a bright smile with bright eyes as she wraps her lips around the bottle, watching him as she takes a swig. Then she lays back again, and explores his muscles some more. Tense muscles, big muscles, fun muscles.
She turns her cheek to his leg then, so her face is towards him. Her smile is sleepy and drunk and happy and warm. "Feels nice," she purrs as he continues to slide over her belly, feeling not only the scar from Kain Zarek's gun but also the scar from Gillian's gun, off to the side a bit. "An Ah spoze that's true. Then again, mah brother's the religious sort. He wouldn' never raise a hand ta me. Then again Ah probably wouldn' ask him too." She sticks her tongue between her teeth, her smile becoming a bit more playful and…mischevious.

Ash can't help but laugh lightly as she continues to run her fingers over hsi arm. "Never
seen anyone so fascinated with an arm before." he murmurs down to her as he listens to her talk of Adam. "Adam was twisted in the head. I'm sorry to hear that he tried to kill you." He smiles a bit though, but it fades quickly enough, replaced by a simple expression of relaxation and comfort. "And no, can't say I do. I've never done anything against my will. Not in my nature to do so. But, I've always been smart enough, and then strong enough to deal with what comes my way with brute force." He chuckles and his eyes lower back down to hers once more.
His hand rubs over that bruised spot for a second or two before it lifts and slips back beneath his shirt, his hand sliding along her side this time, fingers rubbing at her hip, tenderly, or well, tenderly for him, strong fingers running over he rhip, and then up her sid ebefore crossing over her belly again and to her other sidde, down it to her hip again before switching back to her stomach, hand rubbing in a slow circle across her tummy. He arches a brow, a slightly amused look in his eyes. "I see, but you might ask /me/ to is what you're saying." He chuckles a bit, his hand continuing to run over stomach, sides and hips, just generally petting her. "Can't say I'd refuse you if you asked. Like I said, been awhile since I've had the oppurtunity to relax with a woman like this, and despite you being a little scamp… I find I rather enjoy your company."

"Aren't we full of ourselves, thinking we're going to get laid!" Lola laughs, curling her legs up toward her body a little, almost in a fetal position. "Very presumptious! And calling me names too. Scamp this, scamp that." She finishes this little tirade with the mother of all gestures of maturity - sticking her tongue out at him. "I never said anythin' of the sort."
She continues to run her fingers over the bulges, moving up to the bicep and close to the shoulder now. "Ah like arms," she confesses. "Maybe it's somethin' girly in me, but Ah always done felt that there was somethin' nice 'bout a man with real arms. Like they were more trustworthy or somethin'." She looks up at him, and then swiftly releases his arm, to sit up on her elbow, sprawled across his lap. "We should do somethin though, sugar. Maybe…maybe after all this is over, if we both ain' six feet under. Or worse, left headless in a gutter or somethin'."

Ash blinks a few times, his eyes looking bewildered at the mention of getting laid. "Wasn't thinking that actually. Was just enjoying the touching, petting and company. I meant the smack to the ass or whatever have you, the raising a hand to you." He chuckles a bit, and his eyes lift towards the ceiling. "And you are a scamp, don't deny it. Doesn't mean I don't like it, just means you're a scamp." He laughs a bit and then looks down to catch sigh tof the stuck out tongue. "Don't stick it out unless you plan to use it missy." he scolds, though there's a slightly playful tone to the man's deep voice. He leans his head back again, eyes closed, and hsi breathing easy and smooth. "Arms?" He huhs softly. "Suppose everyone has their thing. Scars, muscles, hair, freckles, skin, whatever have you. Everyone has what they like." He breathes slow and steady, chest swelling out, only to exhale, letting it all out. "Though you sti…" he huhs and looks down as his arm is released and she propers herself up, that elbow resting against his brawny thigh. "Do something? Like what?" he hesitates a few seconds before speaking. "I don't make promises and shit, as they tend to get broken when you've no idea what is coming tomorrow, but… we can try, depends onw hat you mean by doing something."

Lola shrugs a little. Sitting up now, she uses her other arm to reach foreward and starts to trail her fingers along Ash's strong shoulders. She likes them, there's no doubt about that. "Ah dunno. But we should meet up, if we ain' dead or nothin'. If we can." She seems perfectly comfortable in this suggestion. It seems perfectly logical. And now, of course, she can actually look him even in the face. "Recreational Absinthe Buddies Anonymous or somethin'" Oh, that grin again. Scampish, scampish grin.
She moves her hand down now to his chest. Why? Well he has muscles there too, and those are almost as interesting as his arms. Particularly because there she can feel his breathing, his heart. "Well, recreational fer me anyway. You already done proved that ya can' hold yer liquor no better'n a prom queen." She's teasing him again, and oh how very much she enjoys it. "Chances are both of us'll be dead by then anyway, but shit, who knows. Random fucks win the lottery all the time, maybe we will too."

Ash looks at the fingers moving along his shoulders, but makes no move to stop the exploring hands, the big guy's breathing still slow and steady. There's plenty of muscle on his shoulders too, big and broad beneath her touch. The man has little to no fat on his entire body, so everywhere her hands go they find strong lean muscle beneath his skin. His lips quirk up into a pleasant smile before he shrugs thos eshoulders beneath her fingers, lifting them, muslces moving and flexing against her fingers before he drops his shoulders. "Can't say I see anything wrong with the idea. And god no more Absinthe. I'm about sick of women drinking me under the table. Friend of mine cheated me. Challenged me to a drinking contest, only because of her ability, she metabolizes liquor faster than she can drink it. Left me plastered and passed out, and she was right as rain. Now you feed me Absinthe and I black out." He grunts a bit, in mock annoyance.
When the hands move ot his chest he tenses for a moment, but only to shift himself, making himself more comfortable. "If you're going to feel me up, at least give me the pleasur eof having you in my lap?" He doesn't wait for an okay from her either. His big hands wrap around her hips, and he lifts her up, and settles her into his lap simple as that, though his hands remain on her hips for the moment, wrapped around them, dwarfing her small waist. "Dead, crippled, or any number of other fucking bullshit things." He smiles a bit, and then leans hsi head down, and unless she stops him, he presses a soft kiss to her lips, lingering only a couple of seconds before pulling away. "Keep up with the teasing and I might be forced to put you over my knee." he threatens, and the wicked glint in his eyes says he will do it too.

Lola lets out a little 'oof' as she's lifted like a rag doll and moved into a position that suites him better. "Hey, you started it," she responds. "You bought the first round. Everything from there was just down-hill. And you were hustling a fellah at the pool table. That was basically like puttin' a batman sign in the sky lookin' fer trouble like me."
And then there's a kiss. Gosh, that was something that she never saw coming. She should of but she didn't, and yet she doesn't mind. It's warm and nice to relax like that, and to feel that simple giddy touch from a boy you actually like a little. Lola slings her arms around Ash's shoulders, allowing them to cross behind his back. She keeps her face close to his so that she can nudge him with her nose as conversation permits. "Oh yeah? Big bad scary terrorist gonna spank me into shape agian?"

Ash can't help but give a soft huff of laughter, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through into her hands as they move over his chest. There's muscle there, but also alot of scars. She can feel the little bumps, and the big bumps, through the thin material of his t-shirt, bullet wounds, knife wounds, shrapnel wounds, even a few that don't really make sense without explenation, ridges of scar tissue and such. His chest is littered with his past. "Yes, because I knew the little theiving squirt that I'd met all of two or three times was going to walk into the bar and end up getting me drunk enough to black out." He offers in reprimand, though it's given with a light tone to his voice. He's not angry, he's being playful if anything.
The kiss isn't something he'd planned on either, it jsut kidn of happened, felt right, as does the seccond one, though the second one lingers a few seconds longer, his lips actually pressing in against hers before pulling away, though he doesn' tpull far, and couldn't even if he wanted to, with her arms around hsi shoulders like that. He slides one of those thick arms around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. "If I have to, and you're making it rather apparent that I probably will…" he murmurs, his warm breath tickling against her lips as he speaks with them so close.

"Well ya oughta know, silly," She teases him back, giving his back a little pinch with her hands so slung that way. Tease indeed! She lets herself remain close to him, liking it, feeling warm and safe for the first time since she was drugged and shot and crying in the back of Kain Zarek's car. He made her feel safe then, but this? This is even better. And so is the kissing. That part is quite enjoyable.
From the second one, Lola licks her lips, shifting her weight to set one leg on either side of Ash's lap. It's a streach, he's a big man after all, but she seems to settle into it comfortably enough. And then there's some movement, a patting. Lola is patting Ash's pants leg, right over his pocket. Something's in there that wasn't there before. A slip of paper. A way to be found after the world has ended.
Ash leaves hsi hands on her hips, though he looks curious as she shifts her body around and then ends up straddling his lap, a soft laugh leaving his lips at that. "You're a bit small to be straddling me there missy." He winks at her though, and his hands move from her hips, to her rear end, resting there and even giving a light squeeze before they go back to her hips and curl about them. "What's that?" He asks in a soft tone, his hands pulling her in closer to him, though he's rather enjoying the feel fo her straddling his lap, that much is obvious from the little smile that's now gracing the man's lips.
"Well now I do know don't I? Just lay down some bets at a pool table and I'll end up with a Lola nearby." His smile grows a bit before sinking back into the samll one. His hips shift a little bit beneath her, his hands moving once more to her backside, only for one hand to pull the shirt up some, and his other to give a firm little swat to her rear end, on the other cheek from the one with the handprint. "Besides, you promised another stip tease, and a girl has to keep her promises right?" He winks at her, a playful smile gracing his lips. This is definitley a sid eof him she's never seen before, and truthfully, only a few people in the world have seen. Him relaxed, complacent, comfortable.

Lola smirks, reaching up and undoing a few of the buttons on the shirt that she's wearing, the large one. She pulls it off her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground beside her, leaving little Lola Mayeux straddling the large man in nothing but her undergarments. "Well there ain' much more ta strip, sugar." He can see all of her scars and burns now, unabated and in the full light. And in truth, it is getting light outside. Light but quiet, the light that blesses a doomed people. A people who know, at least, they are doomed.
She wiggles her rear down into his hands comfortably, and in truth he can more or less posess her rear as much as he can any other part of her with his huge hands. "Don' worry 'bout it now, sugar. Got more important things t'be worryin' about. That's fer after everythin'." That said, Lola's hands come up and stroke Ash's arms. Not stroking his muscles this time, not really. Just stroking a part of…him.

Lola smirks, reaching up and undoing a few of the buttons on the shirt that she's wearing, the large one. She pulls it off her shoulders and lets it fall to the ground beside her, leaving little Lola Mayeux straddling the large man in nothing but her undergarments. "Well there ain' much more ta strip, sugar." He can see all of her scars and burns now, unabated and in the full light. And in truth, it is getting light outside. Light but quiet, the light that blesses a doomed people. A people who know, at least, they are doomed.
The spanks herald a little 'yelp' sound from the girl, one succinct after each hit. But she's grinning all the while. "Ah'll bite ya, sugar," she threatens, jestfully. Lola wiggles her rear down into his hands comfortably, and in truth he can more or less posess her rear as much as he can any other part of her with his huge hands. "Don' worry 'bout it now, sugar. Got more important things t'be worryin' about. That's fer after everythin'." That said, Lola's hands come up and stroke Ash's arms. Not stroking his muscles this time, not really. Just stroking a part of…him.

Ash lowers his eyes, watching the buttons get undone, and then the shirt get pulled off of her smaller body. His eyes roam a little bit, moving over scarred and smooth skin alike, studying the small woman in greater detail with her now in close quarters like this. "I didn't mean I was gonna collect right now. Something to look forwards to, but I won't object to you stripping…" he murmurs, his eyes moving down over her, then lifting up to her face. He leans hsi head in, gently resting his forhead against hers, only to pull back whens he yelps to the smacks to her rump. "Bite me and I'll spank you again missy." He murmurs to her, a wicked litlte smile ghosting across his lips. His hands move from her hips once more, and settle on her bottom, giving it another little squeeze before his thumbs begin to rub against her hips, his hands big enough to reach both areas of her body. "Allright." He murmurs, then he smiles a bit, and his hands reach down, pulling his t-shirt upwards, baring his chest, stomach, arms, his whole upper body. His hands lower back down, gripping and lightly kneading her rear as he looks at her. "Figure if I get to touch wherever I want you should get to look to." The man's chest is bare of hair, just skin and muscle there, and a whole lot of scars. He's been shot, quite a bit in his time, and stabbed, and all manner of other things. His chest is a roadmap of scars.

And Lola is very interested in following every little bit of that roadmap. Every off-ramp, every country road, and every highway of course. Her fingers trail along and she sits back against Ash's palms as she does so, allowing her head to tilt as she follows each little one. Scars are fascinating, of course, proof of pain and of adventure. And, of course, survival. Lola doesn't have nearly so many, but she has enough to know that some change you dramatically - others not at all. And she's curious.
"Which one a these is the most memorable?" Lola asks, tilting her dark eyes up to Ash again. "Weather it was scariest or most painful or just weirdest. Ah'd ask 'bout 'em all but Ah don' think we got time, what with the world endin' soon an all. So tell me 'bout the most memorable ones."

Ash doesn't watch the fingers traling ove rhis skin, he feels them, the touch and caress as fingertips trace scars. "The most memorable… probably where my father shot me.." he slides one hand free of her rear end, and lifts it, to take her hand and lower it down to where his ribs meet his stomach, a puckered scar from a bullet entry, but this scar is old, the oldest on his body. He then presses her hand against it, holding it there. "That was the first time I killed, and the first scar I got. After that one, it would be th eone from MOAB injections on my neck." He lifts her other hand to settle it on his neck, and there on the side is a perfect circle of thick skin, scarring from injections. "Those are my two most memorable. I could tell stories of most of them, though not all, some I don't remember where I got." He winks, and then lowers his hand, not putting it back on her rear end where the other one rests, but tickling his fingertips against her belly again before sliding his hand down, his fingertip toying with the waistband of th e panties a bit, then moving on down over her leg, strong fingers stroking her thigh gently, exploring her skin and body with a slow touch.

Lola's smile is humane - something no one would recognize. Instead of speaking, she just looks a little sorry. Her head tilts, and her face dissapears fromview as she begins to kiss Ash's scars. Not the one where his father shot him, at least not yet. But the injections from MOAB, those will now feel soft, warm, tender lips upon them, as though she might kiss them away and the memories and experiences that went with it. Of course, if someone asked her if that's what she was doing, she'd say no. She'd never want to take away someone's memories, they might forget something dangerous and end up dead becoause of it. No, if anyone asked, she's just kissing him. And yet at the same time it feels….
"We should meet here agian," Lola decides. "On the 8th of December. A month after, if we can get in here. That shold be enough time for things to become normal, whatever normal'll be by then, and we can get here. Doncha think?" She places her lips there agian.

Ash pulls in a slow breath, surprised at the sudden kisses, moving from hsi neck where the injection scar is, then downwards, over his shoulders and chest, the feel of those lips,s oft on his skin sends a shiver through the large man's body. He squirms a bit in his seat, hips moving. He's actually doing it to be a bit of a gentlemen. No straight man could have a woman in his lap like this without getting excited, so he shifts beneath her, being polite and hiding that from her as her lips move over his skin. His hand glides down along her thigh, then back up the inside of it, fingers briefly caressing over her groin, and over to the other leg, hand wrapping around her thigh to run along it, stroking skin and flesh as his hand roams and explores freely.
"Probably shouldn't meet here honestly. This place will be being watched for… various reasons, by then." He smiles lightly, and purses his lips a bit. "I've got a few other places where I can hole up, so… as long as I have a way to get a hold of you I can contact you and let you know where to go. If I don't contact you then… things went bad on the 8th I suppose…" he murmurs softly, then nudges against her head, trying to get her to lift up so he can press his lips against hers, a full kiss this time, lips working lightly agianst her own, pressing againa nd claiming her mouth, at least for the stretch of time that he's kissing her.

"Agreed," Lola promises. And that, after all, is all she'll say. For her the time for words is passed, the liquor is now coursing through her system, hot and ready and quick. No longer does she just sit back, comfortably on Ash's body, she leans forward, sitting up, pressing herself to him and giving herself to him. It's pretty obvious now that she is surrending herself to his will. For all these two know, it isn't the first time.
The light still shines through the curtain and the sounds of the city are still quiet. Even if they weren't, it wouldn't matter to Lola. She's happy. It may only last a few more hours, but for here, for now, she is happy.

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