Irene Adler (
thedominatrix) wrote in
multiversallogs2012-03-23 07:53 pm
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Entry tags:
→ I find shelter in this way.
Who: Irene Adler and Odessa Wander.
What: Wine and women are Irene's preferred coping mechanisms.
Where: Syriac Well, then to Odessa's place in Mafaton
When: After this.
Notes: Irene's wardrobe.
Warnings: Just look at who's involved here. (In other words, TBA).
When Irene meets someone, the question she asks herself is how can I use them?
Tonight, is no different- no, it's not. But that doesn't mean she can't want to see Odessa. Using someone and liking them are not mutually exclusive. Really, it's better when they mix, isn't it? Makes things more fun.
Right.
God, she's tired, she thinks, as she moves on high heels through the corridors, down staircases- not in terms of needing to sleep (that won't happen, anyway, she'll just stare at the ceiling and think herself in circles) but in terms of being numb. Worn down. Almost too tired to act.
Almost.
Tonight, she needs a distraction- and a comfort, though Irene doesn't take comfort like other people do. She needs other people to need her; she's reassured by people depending upon her, being addicted to her. It reminds her of her place in the world, her power.
It's good to hold onto people. Sometimes you can almost lose yourself in them. Sometimes the world is very, very simple and consists of only two people. (Or three, or four, depending, admittedly, on what you like).
She leaves the building in full armour- a trench coat with a fur collar and matching fur-trim gloves, gold glinting on her clutch and her shoes, her lips a brilliant red. Predatory, elegant, in charge. (Everything she wants to project, everything she wants to believe- another reason why, against all the odds, Irene Adler has been known to look after people, the fun of self-deception).
Fortunately, she thinks, perhaps a little cruelly, she won't have to wait long; Odessa is nothing if not eager.
How can I use her?
Tonight: as respite.
no subject
"Darling."
So do pet names, and pretty women, and the promise of wine. She's okay, she reminds herself, for the hundredth time; this is a world she can survive in.
She puts one gloved hand in Odessa's. "More than ready."
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There's no feeling as though the two women have moved. One moment they are outside of Irene's home, and the next they're standing in what is presumably Odessa's foyer. "It's not terribly grand, and I haven't really decorated it much yet, but this is home." Not quite reluctantly, Odessa releases Irene's hand and gestures to a closed door behind her. "Would you like me to take your coat?"
no subject
And she follows her instructions.
She'd known, of course, what Odessa could do, had even planned on taking advantage of her ability, but opening her eyes and finding herself somewhere new is still distinctly unnerving. She spends a few seconds getting her bearings as best she can and carefully not looking too ruffled-
"Darling, it's charming," she says, already slipping it off her shoulders because sometimes her mind can't quite catch up with her body. She catches the fingertip of one glove in between her teeth and peels it off that way, purely for effect, shedding her outerwear with the look of someone used to undressing in style. "And so are you. Here."
She slips the gloves into the pocket and hands her the coat. She decided not to bother with the makeup over the bruises; she tried it and remembered that no, Kate could do this, but she can't, and then she determinedly stopped thinking about Kate and fixed her nails instead- now distinctly short, but neatly shaped and painted blood red. So, her injuries are visible; grazes on the palms of her hands, a bruises in all sorts of places but particularly her legs and, perhaps most notably, a neatly stitched gash on her left arm, the blue sutures not yet dissolved.
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She thinks to fill the silence, "You're too kind." She moves then toward the staircase that leads up from the mostly empty entry. "After you."
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Which, well- they might be, mightn't they?
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Life's no fun if you behave all the time. At the top of the stairs, she makes a sweeping gesture to encompass the kitchen-dining-living area combo. "I should hire a decorator or something. I had planned to transplant some of my flowers, move them inside, but..." She shrugs faintly, leaving the implication that her garden may not be what it once was after all the recent to-do.
She moves from the landing and toward the kitchen set-up, and a waiting bottle of wine. "This reminds me very much of a Syrah, though they called it something else. I confess, I can't read the label." She pours a modest amount into the first glass, then glances up to her guest, and friend, to pour into a second. "Say when."
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"Delightful," she pronounces. "Both the wine and the house. Did your garden bear the brunt of recent events? I know my flat's in a state."
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"And I'm glad you like it." The house and the wine. "If ever you need a place to stay while your flat's under repair, or... for any reason." She's demure then, as if suddenly shy. "You know you need only ask."
I thought I'd replied to this omg D:
"For any reason?" she murmurs- a question but not- and keeps looking at her. Her voice is low, intimate, quiet but oddly carrying. "Be careful," she suggests, a smile which looks like a threat or a promise turning up the corners of her lips.
No worries! <3
After all that, her smile only broadens. "I know what I'm offering." Odessa thinks she and Irene are similar in ways that should probably be troubling, and likely would be to someone considered to be more rational. Wine set aside, Odessa reaches up to cup the woman's face in her hands, eyes fluttering shut as she leans in to kiss her.
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And she knows what Odessa's worrying about- she's had clients she's crossed lines with, women and men, either because she was bored or tired or lonely or because they needed to believe they were something special for her to get the most out of them. "So you're throwing caution to the winds," she murmurs as they part, though their faces remain close, foreheads together. It could sound warning, or rueful, but instead she's smiling- it sounds more like she's flirting. "Good."
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Her thumb strokes absently over Irene's cheek, enjoying the proximity for as long as she'll allow it. Odessa has long decided that no matter what they may be doing, it's always Irene's decision whether they'll continue on, or for how long. "You remind me of someone I used to know," she admits. "That's another thing I'm good at." At first it seems like she might not elaborate, opting instead for one more kiss, but she keeps it brief. "Blurring the lines of professionalism. But I'm not sure if that's what we're doing here, or isn't it?" It isn't as though Odessa's ever tried to strike up some sort of relationship with someone she's been paying for sex before.