RP Kismet


A second was all that Fire Opal needed. She reached up and grabbed Cryptid’s calf and yanked, pulling his feet out from under him. He was light, almost as light as her, and that was an accomplishment. She pulled herself up and forward using the same grasp that took him down. He caught himself on his elbows and she took the chance to bring herself up. She swung her knee over his hips, put her hands on his chest, and pushed.

His back hit the ground and she smiled down at him. She leaned forward, letting her torn hair fall down around her face. Her eyes were lit up, despite the lingering disappointment and hurt. She pushed her luck and leaned in close to him, close enough that her hair brushed over his shoulders.

“Oh I do find it very hot. And as much fun as being underneath you has been, you got to let a girl be on top sometimes, don’tcha think?”

She adjusted her hips as she sat up straighter, keeping him pinned at the shoulders, so that she was straddling his waist when she finally sat up. There was a pleasant glow about her now, a warmth that spilled over. She looked a little more hopeful, suddenly, as though she had just thought of something that might fix the situation.

“Now then, I think it’s been longer than five minutes. You wanna go get some drinks and maybe dinner? I’d be more than happy to give you whatever answers you feel you need to threaten my life to get.” She looked pointedly at the knife that was still clutched in his hand.

Despite her sultry tone, there was actually a cheerful persistence in her voice. She was being honest. She would tell him whatever he wanted. She did want to go for dinner with him. Fire Opal genuinely wanted this. And now that she was acknowledging that fully, there was an earnestness and genuineness to her words. It was more than flirting. It was a real bona fide offer to go to dinner. She smiled and quirked her head to the side, the twitch reminiscent of a bird.​
 
He blinked, and she was on top. On top, across his hips, only a breath away. He felt the red crawl back across his face, and his breath became lighter, a little more shallow in a way that had nothing to do with her weight, and everything to do with its placement.

He recovered, though. Nobody had ever tried to seduce him before – but then again, nobody really got over it when he jumped to threatening them with a knife with implications of serious violence. His head tilted opposite hers, less jerky than a bird – more like a canine.

“Alright, apple pie, what’s the catch?” He kept the attraction out of his voice, and tried to just convey the suspicion. She didn’t need to know that whatever this was, it was working.

Though, if it got her off of him, it’d give him the chance to get up and regroup. He focused on that, instead of her scent or her position. She’d taken him off guard, that was all. He’d expected this to be another knock-down drag-out, like with Chrysoberyl or Jade, or for her to have backup somewhere, like Amethyst. As much as he’d like to see how far this went, he had a feeling that it’d be best to cut and run sooner, rather than later. Before Obsidian showed up.
 

Her Vibe Checker pinged something in his attitude. She quirked her head quickly the opposite direction. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but his expression hardened. That was… disappointing. Instead of letting it deter her, she leaned forward and got close to him, leaning in to say softly in his ear, “Apple pie, huh? No catch, Curly Q. Well. Maybe you let me kiss you, hmm? I think that’s a fair trade.”

With a surprising gentleness, she pressed her lips to the skin under his ear. She dragged her lips down and under the edge of his mask, letting them brush across the sliver of skin that was exposed there. When she got just she got just under the point of his chin, she dipped her head further and brushed her nose against his jaw, as though she might nudge the mask up. Then, she pushed herself back up and looked into his eyes, hers lit up with the fire that burned under her skin. The brief and soft contact had sent shivers through her, and she shifted her hips again, pressing down onto his waist.

Fire Opal was a feral person. She was more than wild, and fairly unhinged. She knew that she was basically left to run loose and be a hellion growing up. Her parents, when they had been alive, had tried their damn hardest to keep her in check. Obsidian had no trouble letting her run wild and free. Even with all of that, even with all the feralness she’d had throughout her life, nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever made her feel quite so… much.

“After all, you’ve been flirting with me this whole time. Can’t do that and then expect me not to take you up on that. You’ve been teasing the wrong person if you think you get to just walk away now, Cryptid.”​
 
All thoughts of running dissipated instantly as her lips pressed under his ear, feverishly hot against his near-hypothermic skin. He sucked in a breath as she traced his jawline. Her proximity was chewing away the cold, and that baseline cinnamon scent filled him up and pushed away almost everything else. He wanted to say yes, as she pulled away, as she looked at him again with that fire in her eyes that told him exactly what she wanted. He swallowed – and realized just how much saliva was in his mouth when he did so.

For a split second, he broke eye contact with her, surprise and understanding filling his face. She might not have ulterior motives, but something – something inside him did. She might be his best chance at finding information about Slate – assuming she’d be honest and not get over her attraction just in time to assassinate him – but she wouldn't be able to do that if he tore her apart. And, God, he didn’t need Obsidian hating him any more. The idea of eating the shadow’s little sister – it didn’t just terrify him, it appealed to some shady part of his own brain, the part drowning in that cinnamon scent and the need to prove its strength to the other monster. His breath hitched just a little bit as that settled in.

“God, as much as I could eat you up right now…”

The second ended. He shook his head hard, and without warning, he raised his hands and shoved her. Any thought that his claws might catch on her body was gone now, more intent on getting her away from him.

“…your brother has enough reasons to want me dead.”

She fell back on her butt, and he didn’t look at her face for surprise or betrayal, instead focused on getting up and backing away. He picked up the knife on his way, though he didn’t brandish it. He had to wrestle the part of him that kept whispering to pounce, to take his teeth and sink them into the places where her skin was bare, to let the taste of her blood pour through him. At the very least, he had a really, really good reminder about why he’d never actually engaged with someone before.
 

One moment, she saw in his eyes the exact thing that she felt reflected in her own. He wanted her. And judging by that look, he had almost as long as she had. A smile split across her face, and she leaned in again, expecting a positive response this time– when the Vibe Checker pinged danger. She started to pull back, surprised until he knocked her off of him. His claws didn’t catch on her, but they tore small holes in her shirt. It was so sudden that she barely had time to put her hands down to catch herself.

After that, Fire Opal looked up at him. Whatever that ping had been, it was gone now. Now it was just him again, backing up. It took her a moment to really piece together what had just happened, but when she did, she sighed. Of course, he wanted to eat her. That made the most amount of sense in this situation. Of course, the first person she’d ever felt an attraction to, and who seemed to feel it back, wanted to eat her.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up. She dusted her leggings off and she turned a smile on him, a dazzling smile, one that she used when she really wanted something from someone else. Coupled with the still burning look in her eyes, she started to walk forward after him, her steps bouncing.

“Listen, big guy, I know I’d be a tasty snack, but do you think you could go back to looking at me like you want to fuck me instead? I was really into that.” She paused for a moment, a thoughtful look coming over her face at the revelation she was having. “Actually? It’s kind of hot that you’re a monster and want me.”

She started moving again, her hands clasped behind her back, as though trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Her eyes were still full of that burning, but now something else was moving in. It was almost like a playfulness. With a tilt of her head, she eyed him up again. “See, I was serious when I said you didn’t just get to leave after that, Cryptid. Now, why don’t you take that mask off? I promise, no one is going to hear anything from me about what you look like under there. Least of all my brother.”​
 
“No.”

There was suddenly a deadly seriousness to his attitude while he wrestled his monster back under control. As she came closer, he turned, holding the knife out point-first. Water started to condense around it, pulled from the air and frozen instantly. The frost gathered and after a moment, the blade’s length had more than tripled with a thick sheet of ice, now a full sword. His blue eyes were calm, but in the absence of the trickster glee, there was just a dull hint of old sadness. Her own smile did nothing to banish that.

“Listen, I don’t care what you tell your brother, or don’t,” he said – which wasn’t completely true, but was true enough in the moment. He needed to sift through his feelings, and he really couldn’t do that with her hitting on him, closer with every step. The ice, he knew, wouldn’t last very long. Normally, he’d bounce back to playful flirtation – but there was no way he was going to risk egging her on. “You should go home, Fire Opal. Playtime’s over. That’s your only warning.”
 

Fire Opal stopped and looked at the sword that was now pointed in her direction. That was a neat trick. He had a lot more firepower than any of them had expected. That was… interesting. After all, all they’d known before was that he ate people and seemed to maybe have decent strength. Nothing in their intel had said anything about growing weapons made of bones or about ice-based powers.

It was a good thing Fire Opal was made of fire.

She brought a single hand forward and set it on fire, the tendrils of flame licking up from her skin. She reached out and grabbed the sword with that hand, and with a cheery smile, albeit less than before, she shook her head, feeling her sheared curls bounce. “Listen. I’m serious. I’m not letting you walk away. I need to know what’s going on here. And if I let you leave, I may never see you again. I don’t think you understand how serious I am about dinner.”

She squeezed the blade in her hand and felt the water start to drip off it as it began to melt beneath her touch. She looked down at it thoughtfully, and then with a big grin, she tightened her grip and yanked, aiming to draw him in closer to her. “Come on, Curly Q. You’re really going to leave a girl wanting?”​
 
Cryptid was a lot lighter than his stature suggested, even with Arlo’s added density. He knew she was strong, but he’d expected her to just melt the sword to prove a point, not yank him closer to her. He stumbled ungracefully. Though he recovered quickly, it was still enough to trip something inside of him.

The sadness disappeared, hardened like the ice in his hand. His voice became sharp and frigid, clipped and crisp with the faintest hiss and growl coloring the edges.

“For fuck’s sake, lay off!” He let go of the sword and backed off again. His posture opened, became wide and tense. Like wings, his predator unfurled, a shadow falling over him, emphasizing his edges and his cold. “You’re the one who doesn’t seem to get how ‘serious’ dinner would be between us. Don’t pretend you understand want, sweetheart.”

Harsh though it was, he felt like going that far was necessary right now. If she kept pushing, she was going to get hurt. He was going to hurt her, and it wouldn’t just be a haircut this time. And, despite what the hunger kept urging, he didn’t want that. He didn’t understand it, but this wasn’t like the other Slate operatives he’d met. They’d all pressed, and he hadn’t hesitated to cut them down when they overstepped. He had no idea why this was just starting now. He didn’t like it. That was mostly because he didn’t understand it, though. And he wouldn’t understand it without space.

So what if she never saw him again? She’d be better off for it.
 

Just like that, the smile disappeared. Fire Opal went completely still. Her cheeks flushed and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her breathing picked up for a moment before smoothing out. The flush on her cheeks died down with a deep breath, and she smiled, a little softer. The kind of smile you gave a wild animal you were worried about scaring off.

In a way, he was. He was just like all the wild animals that she’d been in the habit of bringing home as a child. That hiss and growling edge to his voice reminded her of the cat she one time brought home, feral and angry with scars all over its face. But it had let her pet it, it had let her feed it, and she’d had Oliver for six years. Fire Opal had a way with wild things.

She brought both her hands out and turned the fire off. It died down on her skin, then extinguished completely. She sighed, and in a soft and soothing voice, she started to try and reason with him. “Okay, big guy. Look.. I’ll stop. I’ll stay right here, and I’ll stop. Just, listen to me. I’m going to try to explain this, and I’m going to do a bad job.”

Normally, she would have given him the space to agree and calm down. Normally, she might have even taken a step back. Instead, she kept right on going, but she didn’t move. She kept that promise. “I do want you. And I do want dinner. Dinner doesn’t have to be me, okay? I– I haven’t ever actually wanted anyone before. This is new for me. I’m not normally like this, and I let it get a little ahead of me. Look, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t touch you. Just, come on, go to a Waffle House or a late-night all-you-can-eat buffet with me. I’ll behave, okay?”

As much as she wanted to move forward, as much as she wanted to move closer and touch him again, feel him again, she stayed exactly where she was. You let wild animals come to you. If you chased them, then they ran. And she’d been chasing and pushing this whole time. It was no wonder she’d gotten the beast. And as fucking hot as that was, it wouldn’t benefit either of them that night “I give you answers, you give me a date. How about it?”​
 
He felt the pressure of her gaze on him, heavy and expectant. Was this how it felt to be prey? The flush in her cheeks, the hitch in her breath. Even the soft, close-lipped smile she gave him after wasn’t enough to ease the weight of that look in her eyes.

Not malicious. Fuck, no. No malice in her eyes at all. Her eyes just reflected what radiated after her in warm waves, woven into the scents of cinnamon and apples and vanilla and jasmine. Even though she backed down, he knew her thoughts hadn’t changed.

Still, he took a steadying breath himself, and actually listened. What she was offering was pretty fair, all things considered. And he needed answers more than anything right now – like why the fuck Obsidian was in Pittsburgh right now. Why he’d apparently brought one core member of his group with him, and whether the rest were here, too. And he could tell, for whatever reason, that Fire Opal was going to be true to her word about answering him.

So he took a step back, then another, and let the predator fold back in around him until he could almost pass for a human being.

“Okay. Alright, sure. There’s – there’s one place I know. We could head there.”

Stupid, his predator tried to warn him, but he’d long since gotten used to ignoring that. This was the chance of a lifetime, the opportunity he needed to finish the work he’d spent the last five years on. The chance to finally move on, to rest. Maybe this was the answer he’d been looking for, or maybe it was an elaborate trap.

As he slipped his clawed hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, he knew he’d find out sooner, rather than later. It just wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.
 

The flush was back in her cheeks as he agreed to the dinner. She bounced on her heels and hummed softly as she looked at him, leaning forward slightly. She ran her fingers through her newly shortened hair, abruptly reminded of the new length. She looked at the few long curls that she had left, then down at the bone knife on the ground between them. The ice had shattered off of it from when it had been dropped, and she eyed it thoughtfully.

Leaning over, she picked the knife up and looked at it’s edge. It was sharp enough to cut yourself on, which meant… She coiled the rest of the long strands of her hair around her hand and then held them slack. She pushed them up until they seemed to be the same coil length near the top of her head, then used the knife to cut free the excess. Her new curls were slightly longer than the ones from his cut, but it was barely noticeable. Now it was roughly the same length all the way across.

She dropped the knife and tossed the curls into the pile with the rest. Then, just as she was about to tell Cryptid that she was ready to go, her phone in the outer pocket of her leggings started ringing. She frowned, ignoring it. “I’m just going to grab my shoes, just a sec.”

She walked back over to where they were, lifting them up by their back loops. With them dangling from her hands, she started back over toward the tall, curly-haired man who made her heart do stupid things in her chest. But as she got close, her phone rang again. She sighed, setting the boots down and slipping her feet in as she finally answered her phone.

“Opal. Oh, Mal. Uh, I’m fine. No, I’m going out.” She paused, looking up at Cryptid. She smiled and responded to whatever was asked of her with, “Sorry, not any of your business. I’ll be back when I’m back.”

She giggled as she hung up the phone. She broke it in half, and then threw the pieces of the burner phone down onto the pile of her curls. She turned back to Cryptid, her eyes glimmering, and asked, “Now, where were we?”​
 
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when the phone rang, and he bit his tongue to ground himself. Mal – Malachite. One of Obsidian’s seconds. Of course he’d be calling to check in on the boss’s baby sister. His chest tightened, and he didn’t realize until after she hung up that he was holding his breath. She was going to say something, he was sure. They had to be sharing information, she was going to –

She didn’t. She promptly told Malachite to fuck off, without saying those exact words, and then broke the phone in half like a pop-tart and threw it away. He blinked at the pile of curls and shattered device, then looked at Fire Opal again. For the first time, the unease in his chest actually lessened. His body language loosened, and he actually managed to smile at her, albeit through the mask.

“I believe we were going out for Chinese,” he answered, a little of his playfulness returning now that she was proving herself pretty normal. He offered her his elbow to take as she came up to him. “If you don’t mind, we’ll take my car so your brother can’t find us by looking for yours.”
 
Last edited:

“Hm, a good plan. We’ll leave my car here. I’ll come back for it later.” She looked at the black Kia and then accepted the arm offered to her. She closed her eyes and hummed as warmth and electricity flooded her. She tried to suppress a small shiver down her spine as she reopened her eyes and looked up at him. There was a genuine, big smile on her freckled face, and her eyes seemed to glow with that internal fire.

She started to walk with him, her hands looped around his arm, when her personal phone began to ring. She stopped short and took in a sharp breath. She looked up at Cryptid and groaned, letting go of his arm. She leaned down and reached for the zipper on the side of her right boot. She pulled a phone out, this one a newer-looking Apple phone, and clearly well-loved. It had a case with swirls of color, like a rainbow, and a charm hanging off the side of what looked like a genuine chip of opal.

She looked at the screen and groaned again, tilting her head back. Of course. Of fucking course. She looked up at him with an almost pained look, her eyes clearly conveying how much she didn’t want to answer this call. Then, she sighed deeply and slide the button on the screen. The caller ID Simply read “E”.

“Obsidian.” Her eyes flashed up to Cryptid’s beautiful blue eyes as her brother spoke up.

“Where are you going?” His words were soft, his voice even. He wasn’t upset by the sound of it, but he was calling her.

“None ya.”

“Opal, darling, just tell me what’s going on and where you’re going.”

“Not a chance. I’m hanging up now. I’ll break this phone too, don’t test me.”

“Opal, I just want to make sure you’re sa–” His voice stopped when she hit the end call button. She looked at her phone for a moment, waiting to see if it would ring again, When it didn’t she bent down to her shoe again, replacing the phone in its hidden compartment.

“Sorry, they’re very overprotective. They don’t think I can handle myself.”​
 
Her warmth flooded him when she touched his arm, and almost against his will he found himself relaxing under her touch. She’d agreed to his car, which presumably meant she’d let him drive. She’d agreed to the place of his choosing, and the buffet was a place familiar to him, not her. She might be a little overconfident, all things considered. But if she thought she wasn’t in any danger – well, she was right, as long as she didn’t bring in any other problems.

He’d been about to start a conversation while they walked, when a different phone rang. Expecting it to be Malachite again, Cryptid arched his eyebrows under the mask, but waited with a little smile for her to finish.

A smile that disappeared as the voice on the phone set every hair on his body on end with a shudder that ran up his spine. A voice that made every instinct flash red lights in a blinding multitude. A voice he’d heard once, also over the phone, the first time he’d heard of Slate.

Now, it wasn’t that Cryptid didn’t trust Fire Opal not to turn him over to her brother against his will. He just didn’t trust Obsidian not to overstep personal boundaries pursuing someone who might be valuable to him. Obsidian would know where Opal was, who she was looking for, and how long a fight between them would take. He’d suspect something, and maybe, he’d try to leverage it to his advantage.

Cryptid wasn’t going to let that happen.

When Opal bent over to replace her phone, Cryptid made his move. Light condensed in six places around them, refracted through prisms of ice in the air that suddenly grew cold. At first, all the illusions stood in the same place he did.

When he ran, however, they dispersed. One in every direction, past her, down the road, up the road. All more immediately visible than the real thing, who wished he could apologize and explain as he ate up the space to reach an alleyway and disappeared down it. There wasn’t time for an explanation. Maybe if they met again, it’d be different.

But for now, he had to go.
 

The world around her dropped in temperature, and when she looked at Cryptid, half a dozen of him ran away from her in every direction. She watched for a moment in awe, spinning as she tried to find the real one. But only one of the Cryptids had vibrations attached to it, and it was one that was hidden from view. She caught sight of him just as he started to disappear down an alleyway.

She smiled wide. She wasn’t sure why he was running. She didn’t really need to know right now, though she would certainly find out soon enough. But unbeknownst to him, Fire Opal had a favorite game. It was a game she could only play with Mal, Rhody, and Obsidian. And he had just initiated a round of Parkour Tag. She let out an ecstatic laugh and took off after him, as fast as her feet would carry her, the phone tucked in her boot staying silent the whole time.

As soon as she hit the alley, she turned sharply, not slowing down, but instead stepping off the wall of the building and pushing off it to course correct. She kept running, her eyes aglow with her fire as she sprinted after Crytpid. She caught sight of him again, taking another sharp corner up ahead. Just like before, she ran straight at the wall, up it slightly, then kicked off to start down the alley after him.

This time she caught full sight of him just ahead. She let out another laugh and called out ahead of here, “You’ll have to go faster than that if you want to win, Curly Q!”

Aside from her brother, Opal was the fastest person she knew. Even without her heat behind it, she had been gifted with enhanced speed. As her brother put it, she was built better than everyone else. She wasn’t a predator, not like he was, but she was fire incarnate. She was speed and strength and heat and everything that came with that. And now, as she ran, she let that show. She let the gracefulness of her run show, let the speed with which she was gaining on him show, let the ease of the run show. She let the pleasure she felt in chasing after him glimmer in her eyes.

But he didn’t look back at her. Instead, he broke off from the alley they were running down and clambered up a fire escape, jumping from the nearby dumpster up to the lifted ladder. She had just gotten to it when he disappeared onto the roof. She grinned wide and put all of her weight into a jump against the wall. She pushed off the bricks at a nearly forty-five-degree angle using just where the edge of her boot had caught to leap and catch onto the ladder. She almost missed, but she managed to catch it and laughed as she climbed.

She got to the top, climbed onto the roof, and saw him speeding across the rooftops. She tilted her head back and yelped, a bright and joyous sound. She started off after him, rolling as she jumped from rooftop to rooftop. She’d roll straight back to her feet and keep moving. He was as quick and as clean as Malachite and Rhody were. The way he moved like he was made for it, like the rooftops were where he was meant to be. She could feel herself breaking a sweat as she ran, a constant and bubbling stream of laughter echoing through the night.

She hadn’t felt this kind of freedom and joy in what felt like years. Certainly, since she had started working for Slate. It had been almost a full year since both Rhody and Malachite were in the same city as her, since she had gotten to run with someone like this. And it was resounding in the space in her chest that had begun to feel tight and stiff. She couldn’t help the laughter, the joyous yelling, the way she pushed herself to catch up to him.

If only he wasn’t running from her, it would have been perfect.​
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top