forum hey fellas im starting a new roleplay ((one on one, closed but open to stalkers))

Started April 22, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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Tessa woke up in her bed, devoid of clothing and engulfed in the warmth of Nik right beside her. She sighed contently and closed her eyes again, just savoring the moment.

nik woke up with a jolt, lower brain screaming that he should not fucking be here.
the significant lack of clothing was… concerning, and the presence next to him was even more so. there was at least 5 minutes of pure panic, the only outside evidence was the quickening of his already rough breathing.

after the 5-minute anxiety attack, he realized. oh.
he managed to come down, relief coursing through his veins. just tessa, she's seen his scar-riddled torso before. and she was basically the love of his current life, but that's another matter.

Tessa had heard his rapid breathing, and she turned around to face him once it seemed he had stopped. Her golden eyes flicked around his face for any sort of guilt or regret or something that would make her mind insist that he didn't want her.
Always with that small part of her mind that said she wasn't good enough. That she was nothing more than a one night stand. That no one wanted her and the baggage that came with her.

he noticed her slightly worried expression, and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a hug.
"hey. you look upset, anything wrong?"

She sighed and snuggled into him. "Its nothing, really. Just my dumb head insisting I'm not good enough or wanted by you."

"aww," he hugged her tighter, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

"tell your dumb head to fuck right off."

She smiled and chuckled a bit. "Will do."

She was a bit surprised–and also extremely happy–that they had come this far. Who knew that the boy who pissed her off by smacking into her sore back would be here, pulling her into his arms and reassuring her that her depressing thoughts were nothing but lies?

"glad i could help."
he briefly pondered about the girl in his arms, wondering how in just over a month this could happen. a deadly assasin with ptsd and a reporter with trust issues, found solace in the fucked-up-edness that is each other.
fun.

She sighed and closed her eyes again, not really feeling like moving away from him. He was warm and cozy, and she was feeling lazy today. Then again, when wasn't she?

(Hey, should they be targeted by the government because of the things they leaked? Sorta spice things up a bit?)

(yeah!)

he walked home from her house, dreamy expression and body language, not quite aware of his surroundings.

mistake number 1.

mistake number 2, is that his knife was tucked safely in his belt instead of in the easy-access position of in his boot.

mistake number 3 is that he had almost forgotten his fear in the presence of one he trusted.

his wrists were taken, pinned behind him and there was an arm against his throat. it took them at least an hour to successfully get him down and knocked out, but they did get him there.

Tessa got an anonymous text saying that she needed to meet a "client" at some alleyway. She didn't think much of it and changed into a tank top, cargo pants with their pockets holding at least some sort of flammable or explosive item, and a belt with daggers and even a gun strapped to it. She threw on a black, slightly bloodstained coat–also armed to the teeth inside the hidden pockets–and grabbed her eerie face mask that covered the lower half of her face and doubled as a gas mask.

The getup was what she always wore when meeting someone new in this kind of business. It added that hint of fear and mystery that very rarely failed to bring them to their knees and beg for her mercy. She smirked behind the mask and headed outside.

However, she wasn't thinking straight, what with the recent events involving her and Nik. She was distracted.
She was never distracted.
Her face mask wasn't properly sealed against her skin.
She never forgot to seal it.
Her gun wasn't loaded, and she had no bullets to spare.
Though her hatred of them was clear, she never forgot to check them.

She reached the alley, only to be brutally yanked into the darkness. She was caught off guard and stumbled, fumbling for her gun. She heard a metallic pop, then the hiss of gas being released. She thought nothing of it as she regained her balance and finally lifted her gun. Click. Click. Click. Empty. Her eyes watered and her throat swelled. Her limbs felt sluggish. She was breathing in the gas–whatever the hell it was.

Pretty soon, she was an unconscious and limp heap on the ground, completely at her attacker's mercy.

nik woke with a throbbing head, not unfamiliar with the sensation, but still uneasy. he seemed to be held down on a… metal chair, hands tied behind him. there was rope around his wrists, he eventually figured out, and was shaking because of it. full body tremor.

he cracked open an eye, taking in the surroundings. a grey room, rusty tools piled in the corner, and scuffed floor. he definitely recognized the room. the problem with taking a sewer rat underground is that he knows where he is, probably at all times, but then of course.

another problem is that he's tied down and there are definitely footsteps coming towards him.

Tessa slowly was brought back to the land of the living, though she didn't open her eyes, make any noise, or alter her breathing to suggest that she was awake. A blindfold was over her eyes, she could feel. Her ankles were chained to the stone floor that she was uncomfortably sprawled over. Her wrists too. She could feel the cold metal biting into her skin, threatening to cut into her should she strain too much. She felt a significant absence of weight across her body–they took her weapons. Everything. Even her coat.
Chills ran up her spine as her bare arms finally took notice of the cold. But she still didn't move. I'm still asleep, she told her mind, her body. A trick she had learned to keep the beatings at bay. They wanted you awake for the things they wanted to do to you. Conscious and receptive. So she taught herself how to look like she was sleeping, to the point that she was teetering on the edge of oblivion and reality.

Underground, came the jarring realization. I'm underground. There was no denying the tense muscles and eerie feeling that crept through her body. While she couldn't see it–her body knew. Didn't like it.

nik put on the brave face. this was about to be hell.

the door opened, and a figure walked through. wearing boots, presumably. sounds similar to the watch's footwear. they stopped in front of him.

"fischer."

he opened his eyes fully, leaning forward to meet them.

"johnson. wondering when we'd meet again, you slimy bastard. ya still can't pronounce my name. is this about theresa?" he mentally prepared for the hit across the face, and after a cold pause it came.

"yes. what else would it be about?" nik rolled his eyes, which earned him a scuff to the shin.

Tessa heard heavy footsteps, and she mentally braced herself. A metal door creaked, and the footsteps came closer as the door was slammed shut. She could feel a rush of heat during the brief time that the door was open. So they were making this room cold on purpose. As if that'd stop her.

She was suddenly and violently grabbed and yanked forward. She was so startled and lost in her analysis that she yelped in surprise. A man had a hold of the collar of her top, holding her up so her toes were just barely scraping the floor. She knew it was a man by the large and strong fist that kept her prisoner.
"Of course you would pair up with that godforsaken kid that calls himself a reporter," a deep voice seethed. "Do you know what your little playtime cost us, Miss Hunt?"

Tessa smirked despite her situation. She may be blind, but she wasn't mute. "Yeah. I put your asses out in the public and exposed your fucked up proje–" She was slapped across the face, her head snapping to the side. She didn't miss a beat and whipped her head right back around, spitting in the man's face. He dropped her, letting her fall to her knees with a painful crack. Not broken, but that hella hurt.

"you have a job, amory." the figure hissed, leaning into nik's face. "to starve on the streets like the rat you are, getting underpaid for unraveling the watch. you're getting on your high horse, interfering in things that aren't yours." they turned, beginning to pace.

nik blankfaced them.
"is amory still the only part of my name you can pronounce, american? all i did was get myself a girlfriend. it's human nature to want to be loved." the figure whipped around, and nik interrupted them before they could speak again.

"yeah, yeah, i don't deserve to be loved just because i'm a poor 19 year old who rather likes not starving. save the monologue, princess."

they paused.
"we have your so-called-girlfriend here too. now i know you won't mind if i hit you, but would you mind if we hurt her?"
he blanched, stilling and glaring at the vague shadow. "you wouldn't."