a first sight ; duchess//justice { arx }

[Avalon]

D U C H E S S.

She felt her knuckles collide with the abused face of the 'perfectly-enough' sculpted baby boy. Cracking violently on impact, Duchess could tell her bloody fingers were in no shape to continue a smack down, the damn hard bone of this boys chiseled jaw had practically crushed her hand. However, she couldn't find even a single fuck to give, she threw one last punch and though it was weaker than the one prior she basically hadn't needed a finisher. Biting her cheek to direct the pain elsewhere, the taste of liquid iron spotted against her tongue generously. "Fuck you, and fuck your face.", she spat out angrily. "You made me bite my god damn cheek bitch."

Walking away from the KO'd boy who collapsed to the ground, they announced the obvious winner. Duchess wasn't surprised - she was a skilled fighter, and had it not been against the rules, or against the law, she could've snapped the boys neck quicker than his heartbeat. Her mind paced back to the memory of a hand that slipped against her sweaty thighs reaching for her money maker, she read the name 'Duchess' across his arm. 'Fuck yeah, I'm the shit', she thought for a second, but within a one- two--- SNAP!, she twisted the bald fuckers arm by two of his fingers and shattered his hand into several millions of pieces.

Duchess was always quick on her feet, mind had been trained to sense a danger at lightning speed- she'd been born and raised a career. It's no wonder she almost grabbed a sharpened knife from a nearby table and dug it deep into the persons neck upon reflex. The man hand wrapped around her waist and she halted, turned to stare into the eyes of a God himself - Justice Fray. (It took every feat built within her to not shove every inch of him down her throat right then and there.) "May I help you?", she questioned, his eyes were unfocused and she could tell he'd been day drinking already. It could be the perfect opportunity to scam the victor boy.

[arx!!]

JUSTICE FRAY

"kings and queens
ain't meant to be apart"

I knew better than to get my hopes up, but after everything I had done to get back here...

I thought maybe something would be different. But as far as I can tell, it's all just exactly the same. My home, my family, my life. Me. I feel different and I want to be different, but everything I do—everything I've done—it's all the same. A routine I can't break free of, like a train confined to its tracks, a puppet to its strings.

I just want to break free. I wish someone would tell me how to break free. Because I don't know how.

("Would you like a drink, Justice?")

("Sure.")

("Going to watch your siblings at the olympics?")

("Of course.")

("Oh, she's a looker, isn't she?")

("Hell yeah she is.")

It's that simple. I'm molded to fit their needs and in return, they tolerate me. So they don't cringe when I pull out a flask and take a sip. They don't do anything but laugh when I hoot and holler as blood spatters and bones crack. And when I've got my eyes set on the winner, they whisper and smirk with an obvious interest in my affairs.

I don't even bother trying to hide it. I let my gaze wander up the length of her chiseled calves, clearly her legs are accustomed to twirling in stilettos. Sweat glistens on her skin in a way that makes her glow. I'd say she looks angelic but that would only dash the dirty fantasies playing out in my mind. Ripred I can practically taste her skin already...

Between the alcohol and her body, I'm completely intoxicated. It's simple just to reach out and—touch. My fingers reach around her, press into her skin. The alcohol on my breath mixes with the smell of her exertion and if I didn't believe I had a reputation to uphold I would lay her down on the table behind us and--

"May I help you?"

Her voice is so sultry sweet, her gaze so lustful that my arm reflexively pulls her close. I feel her hips pressing into me and despite how numbing the alcohol is supposed to be, I feel every point of pressure light on fire.

"No," I say with a twisted grin. "But I'd love to help you out of those clothes."

It sure would help me forget who I am.

table by elegant