Post by Jareth Caitiffan on Jul 4, 2009 16:01:42 GMT -5
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JARETHSYLFAENCAITIFFAN
[/color]JARETHSYLFAENCAITIFFAN
R U N, D E S I R E, R U N
RUN HIM LIKE A BLADE
TO AND THROUGH THE HEART
NO CONSCIENCE, ONE MOTIVE
TO CATER TO THE HOLLOW
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OKAY, SO GIVE US THE BASICS !
SORRY, NOT QUITE. SO WHAT ARE AND AREN'T YOU INTO ?
HOW ER... INTERESTING. EVER LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED ?
WHAT MAKES YOU SHAKE IN YOUR BOOTS ?
EVEN YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME GOOD QUALITIES, RIGHT ?
AND IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS YOU HAVE YOUR BAD, HUH?
LET'S GET DIRTY. WHAT TURNS YOU ON ?
DO YOU LOVE YOUR FAMILY ?
WHERE YA FROM, BY THE WAY ?
THE DEMENTORS ARE HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ?
BETTER GET UP A PATRONUS. WHAT ARE YOU REMEMBERING ?
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HI, I AM SEVAPHINA AND I AM 26 YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR YEARS AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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HI, I AM SEVAPHINA AND I AM 26 YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR YEARS AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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There had been word that a shopkeeper in Hogsmeade had quite rudely refused service to a valuable Ministry employee, and Jareth had won the bid for the job. Most of the Red Masked Guards enjoyed their jobs a little too much, but you'd be hard pressed to find one who enjoyed it as immensely and thoroughly as Jareth Caitiffan. By the time he was through with the woman (who was old enough to be his mother, incidentally), any hopes or aspirations she might have had of leading some individual rebellion against the new Ministry were as dead as her shell-shocked eyes.
After freshening himself up in her shop's bathroom, he returned to the counter, which she was currently huddled behind, not seeming to notice that her robes had been shredded so badly that they revealed more than they hid. He cleared his throat and waited patiently for her to finish wincing and cringing at the sound, until she finally darted a quick, terrified glance at him.
He placed a quill on the counter between them, though he doubted she could see it from her place on the floor.
"I would like to buy something from you today," he said, in pleasant tones that failed to match the cold indifference in his eyes. Choking back sobs, she stood shakily to her feet, and like a good little Ministry supporter she rang up the quill at the proper Ministry discount rate.
"That's my poppet," Jareth said, smiling graciously, not at all upset by the delicate shade of green she turned upon hearing his filthy lips call her such a condescending pet name. Leaving the quill on the counter, he turned and walked out of the shop, content with a job well done. She would not be so quick to spurn the Ministry now that she had seen what lengths its agents were willing to go to for preservation of order.
He stepped onto the main thoroughfare and was nearly knocked aside when someone apparated into almost the exact same spot he had just stepped onto.
After the brief reaction of stunned silence, his mind began to process what he was seeing. A pretty girl, with wavy blonde hair and large blue eyes, whose delicately boned hand flew up to her mouth in shock. Her nails were brutally short, like a nail biter who was trying to discourage herself from the habit. Nail biters were timid, fearful people in his experience. He was immediately intrigued.
When the apologies started flowing, he was hooked. It didn't matter that he had just sated his basest desires with the shopkeeper - the flames had risen again and were threatening to consume him. She faltered under his gaze, gave up one last apology like a frightened peace offering, then hid herself beneath her cloak, hurrying away. Jareth turned his head and watched her go until he could see only a spot of red, disappearing by the stile at the end of the road.
And then, calmly, he followed her.
He watched her carve a path through the long grasses, staying far enough behind her that she wouldn't hear those same grasses rustling against his own legs. He watched with interest as she would bend to inspect one wildflower, but completely pass by another. He watched the way the bright red cloak she wore darkened by the minute as the buttery-soft looking hide slowly absorbed the light drizzle that coated it. And most satisfying of all, he watched the way her lithe figure moved beneath the cloak, offering tantalizing glimpses of her thin frame without showing so much as an inch of skin.
Jareth was as in love as he possibly could be, enraptured by her modesty, empowered by her timidness. She reeked of virgin naivety, and something he had never experienced before when stalking another woman. Something primal, raw and unusual that he longed to stake, claim and tap into.
Whatever she was doing out here in the wild meadow, she seemed perfectly content doing it - half an hour turned into an hour, and still she hadn't stopped wandering, gravitating slowly towards a rocky outcropping that climbed steadily up the hill. They were far away from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, now... far enough away that she could scream and wail and cry and beg and no one who cared would hear her.
The timing was right, and there was no better place than here. Jareth moved like a bolt of lightning, streaking through the wet grasses that struggled uselessly to hold him back - by the time she heard him and started to turn in surprise, he had reached her, and slammed her bodily into a bed of slick grass and soft earth.
"You want this," he assured her in almost loving tones, pinning her with his larger frame in a sea of green and lavender.
After freshening himself up in her shop's bathroom, he returned to the counter, which she was currently huddled behind, not seeming to notice that her robes had been shredded so badly that they revealed more than they hid. He cleared his throat and waited patiently for her to finish wincing and cringing at the sound, until she finally darted a quick, terrified glance at him.
He placed a quill on the counter between them, though he doubted she could see it from her place on the floor.
"I would like to buy something from you today," he said, in pleasant tones that failed to match the cold indifference in his eyes. Choking back sobs, she stood shakily to her feet, and like a good little Ministry supporter she rang up the quill at the proper Ministry discount rate.
"That's my poppet," Jareth said, smiling graciously, not at all upset by the delicate shade of green she turned upon hearing his filthy lips call her such a condescending pet name. Leaving the quill on the counter, he turned and walked out of the shop, content with a job well done. She would not be so quick to spurn the Ministry now that she had seen what lengths its agents were willing to go to for preservation of order.
He stepped onto the main thoroughfare and was nearly knocked aside when someone apparated into almost the exact same spot he had just stepped onto.
After the brief reaction of stunned silence, his mind began to process what he was seeing. A pretty girl, with wavy blonde hair and large blue eyes, whose delicately boned hand flew up to her mouth in shock. Her nails were brutally short, like a nail biter who was trying to discourage herself from the habit. Nail biters were timid, fearful people in his experience. He was immediately intrigued.
When the apologies started flowing, he was hooked. It didn't matter that he had just sated his basest desires with the shopkeeper - the flames had risen again and were threatening to consume him. She faltered under his gaze, gave up one last apology like a frightened peace offering, then hid herself beneath her cloak, hurrying away. Jareth turned his head and watched her go until he could see only a spot of red, disappearing by the stile at the end of the road.
And then, calmly, he followed her.
He watched her carve a path through the long grasses, staying far enough behind her that she wouldn't hear those same grasses rustling against his own legs. He watched with interest as she would bend to inspect one wildflower, but completely pass by another. He watched the way the bright red cloak she wore darkened by the minute as the buttery-soft looking hide slowly absorbed the light drizzle that coated it. And most satisfying of all, he watched the way her lithe figure moved beneath the cloak, offering tantalizing glimpses of her thin frame without showing so much as an inch of skin.
Jareth was as in love as he possibly could be, enraptured by her modesty, empowered by her timidness. She reeked of virgin naivety, and something he had never experienced before when stalking another woman. Something primal, raw and unusual that he longed to stake, claim and tap into.
Whatever she was doing out here in the wild meadow, she seemed perfectly content doing it - half an hour turned into an hour, and still she hadn't stopped wandering, gravitating slowly towards a rocky outcropping that climbed steadily up the hill. They were far away from Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, now... far enough away that she could scream and wail and cry and beg and no one who cared would hear her.
The timing was right, and there was no better place than here. Jareth moved like a bolt of lightning, streaking through the wet grasses that struggled uselessly to hold him back - by the time she heard him and started to turn in surprise, he had reached her, and slammed her bodily into a bed of slick grass and soft earth.
"You want this," he assured her in almost loving tones, pinning her with his larger frame in a sea of green and lavender.
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