→ I find shelter in this way.

[thedominatrix]

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.

Comments

[thedominatrix]

Irene leans close and shuts her eyes, managing to multitask as she puts down her wine. Her hand finds Odessa's waist, and she kisses her gently, but not without a certain hunger.

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."

[whattigerscanchange]

"It's sort of my thing," Odessa asserts in the same breath as a husky chuckle. Caution is for people who don't intend to die young. Not that Odessa intends to die young, it's just that she's long considered that an occupational hazard, and thus a strong possibility.

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.