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Post by raquelreynolds on May 28, 2011 1:21:38 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://i931.photobucket.com/albums/ad153/RochelleHarper_2010/130655655980298581993465.png); height: 250; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(PUT THAT SAME 400X250 IMAGE RIGHT HERE);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] the girl's bad, When a person was wanted for bank robbery and murder of her own father, it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to try to steal a car. There wasn’t even a probably about it; it just wasn’t a good idea. End of story. But that didn’t stop Raquel Reynolds from doing such an act. After all, one had to do what one had to do, especially if they were a hunter on their way to a hunt. Rocky wasn’t one to just sit there and wait for help to come, or wait for her luck to magically change. No, she was the type of person who believed that when the going got tough, the tough got going… Even if that meant crouching by the driver’s side of a black 1967 Chevy Impala with her signature bobby-pin she’s used on countless of occasions.
Rocky grunted softly as her thumb and index finger worked the pin, trying to pry the lock free. She had only been at it for a couple of minutes, and thank God everyone (including the owner of the Impala) was in the bar. Although she wasn’t all that close to the packed bar, a faint beat could be heard from within the building. It sounded like “Pout Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard was being played, and the huntress couldn’t help but to hum before quietly singing along. ”…From my head to my feet, yeah.” Again, the brunette hummed as the guitar part came in. Ahh, classic rock was such a wonderful invention, a wonderful part of her child-hood, and not even her adult-hood. Except for the part where the son of a bitch who had stolen her car, and ’69 Mustang GT, had all of her CDs.
A strong gust of wind in the late spring’s night drew Rocky away from her thoughts of anger as they started coming in one after another. The night was on the nippy side, but the brunette wasn’t suffering from it. She wore a pair of light denim jeans that feel at her hips, and unlike most of her jeans, these ones were hole and stain free. A simple white tee with the words “Kiss My Ass” stitched on in black lettering, and a jean jacket along with a pair of sneakers completed the outfit. It was safe to say that she was warm enough, but her hair wasn’t safe from the slightly vicious wind. Rocky sighed in annoyance as random locks of naturally wavy brown hair fluttered into her bright green orbs, getting in the way of her view. The huntress tucked the strands of hair behind her ear before getting back to work.
Out of nowhere, a group of four intoxicated men stumbled out of the bar. One of them babbled on about the rack of some young blonde that was in the place they were no leaving. A second man slurred his words terribly, and Rocky couldn’t quite make out what he said. Something about a rooster and a penguin? The green eyed woman shook her head, and pretended to tie her shoe as the small group walked past her, not even noticing she was there. When the were several yards in front of the car, Rocky went back to picking at the car’s lock with her pin, and smirked as she felt and heard something click. The smirk was a cocky one, and she knew she was one smart girl. What a better place and time to steal a car than at night at a bar? Suddenly, the smirk vanished as she felt a slightly rough hand on her shoulder.
words: 606, outfit: light jeans, white tee, jean jacket, whatever else: hope that works!
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by dean on May 28, 2011 4:43:31 GMT -5
Food.
That was the only thing on Dean mind right now, food and alcohol. Oh and the bar tender. She was fine. He gave her a small wink and smile as he sat on a stool at the bar, looking around the establishment. Everything seemed to be ok, he had found himself looking over his shoulder more than ever these last few months.
With Castiel on his power trip and the recent activity of demons. You could never be to careful plus Sam didn't have his back, he had left him back at the hotel to.....“research”.
He ordered a large beer and a hamburger with the works. As he waited he kept giving the girl behind the bar smiles as he drummed his fingers along to the rock song which filled the entire room. It wasn't the most...fanciest bar you would ever see but it served Dean's purposes and he guessed he could probably catch something from their food but hey....what’s life without risks. Besides he wouldn't be knocked off by some burger, lately he had the feeling his death would be at the hands of an angel. One of them would die if Cas didn't snap out of his stupidity.
Dean leaned back in his stool waiting for his burger and watched a group of people leave the bar, as they held the door open he saw his baby, the impala and for a split second he would have sword he saw the tip of someone’s head the other side of the car.
There it was again, the smallest glimpse of a black haired person on the drivers side of his car.
“Awe hell no,” Dean said jumping to his feet. He ran into the men's room and awkwardly climbed out the window.
“Not taking my bloody car,” he said as he hit the ground with a thump. He quietly made his way around the other cars and bikes and slowly pulled out the gun he always had on him. It was a woman, trying to pick lock the impala, his car. She was trying to steal his car.
He put his hand on her shoulder then placed his gun at the base of her neck, “sweetheart you picked the wrong car to boost,” he said. He obviously had no intention shooting her, hell he had to admire his taste but she had done something unforgivable. |
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Post by raquelreynolds on May 28, 2011 9:40:10 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://i931.photobucket.com/albums/ad153/RochelleHarper_2010/130655655980298581993465.png); height: 250; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(PUT THAT SAME 400X250 IMAGE RIGHT HERE);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] the girl's bad, A gun. That was the force that Rocky felt at the base of her neck, and she couldn’t help but for feel self-pity for her misfortune. How hadn’t she seen the man coming? Taking a quick glance at the back, the huntress concluded that he must have snuck out through the bathroom window that wasn’t exactly in plain sight from where the car was at. However, it wasn’t only self-pity that she felt, it was disappointment as well. With being a hunter, she lived a life of always being on her toes, having all of her senses and alert systems intact. The huntress knew that she got too excited over the fact that she had successfully picked the lock to the lovely Impala, and spent too much time thinking back to her baby that was now in the hands of some dick. If she hadn’t done so, Miss Reynolds would have been off and on her way. The man with the gun would have been carless, and a hundred times more pissed than he was now.
To show surrender, the woman let her precious pick fall to the ground, and raised both arms slightly in the air. She wasn’t going to anything funny, and after all, she wasn’t the one with the gun. Rocky was tempted to turn around and see who the man was, but for she knew, he was some loony freak with a gun. Not to mention she wasn’t sure how intoxicated he was because the wind was blowing the possible sent of alcohol behind them. So, the brunette slowly rose to her feet, and stood where she was. Being in control of the situation was an advantage that she no longer had. The man was a complete stranger, and how was she to know that if she were to simply turn around, he wouldn’t paint the car and cement ground with her brains? Crazy people like that were everywhere, and on wouldn’t know it was too late. The more and more Rocky thought about the situation, the more she was beginning to dislike it.
Another than that was disliked by her was pet names. Baby, Doll, Babe, and worst of all, Sweetheart all drove the woman insane, and she simply set her jaw and glared behind the man’s view. The temptation to tell him to not call her that even in a situation as such, flowed through her veins, but again, he was the one with the gun, and Rocky wasn’t sure exactly how man crazy man points he was possessing. So, the brunette sighed softly, and let her head hang for a few seconds. There was distinct hint of anger in his voice, and pissing the man off even more was something that Rocky didn’t want to do since she loved her face just the way it was. How was it that a woman could get away with unintentional murder and bank robberies, but when it come to doing something as simple as running off with a car, she failed?
Rocky winced slightly and tried to move her shoulder into a more comfortable position under than man’s strong grasp. Of course that didn’t work, and once again the brunette sighed before speaking. ”Listen, I’m sure we can talk about this like two mature adults. Perhaps without the gun?” The words came out as soft and gentle as possible, but she was sure that there was a hint of disappointment somewhere in that tone of hers. ”Can I at least turn around?” Rocky looked to her left to try and get a glimpse of the man, but had no such luck. She kept her arms raised to show that she wasn’t going to try anything funny. He was in control of the game, and she knew it. So did he.
words: 634, outfit: light jeans, white tee, jean jacket, whatever else: haha poor Roc
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by dean on May 29, 2011 5:57:26 GMT -5
Dean hesitated for a split second, his instincts kicking in. Was she just trying to steal a random car or was there a reason behind it. Did she choose this car on purpose. Dammit why did things have to be difficult. Why couldn't she just be a normal girl stealing his car...she still could be a normal girl stealing his car. He leaned back a little as she got to her feet, assessing her........features.
Not bad, he thought to himself with a small smile, but he removed the thoughts from his head. There was a time in place and outside in the freezing cold and while she was trying to steal his car.
He gave his head a quick shake just as the woman began to speak.
”Listen, I’m sure we can talk about this like two mature adults. Perhaps without the gun? Can I at least turn around?”
Again Dean hesitated but after a few moments backed up a little, taking the gun off her neck but still kept his finger on the trigger. The safety was still on anyway.
Don't be stupid, he thought to himself with a small sigh. A demon wouldn't try to lock pick his car, well they wouldn't even know what his car looked like. He hoped. Except Meg, wherever the hell that bitch was.
“Alright,” he said, placing his second hand on the gun, “what are you doing to my car,” he said, “I swear to.....,” he hesitated, trying to find another way to put it seems “god” wasn't exactly someone he could rely upon, “if you have gotten a scratch on my baby I will shoot you in the face”.
OOC: sorry its a tad short, muse is kinda lacking tonight, still feeling the effects of Friday night seems I don't drink often T_T. |
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Post by raquelreynolds on May 29, 2011 9:04:30 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://i931.photobucket.com/albums/ad153/RochelleHarper_2010/130655655980298581993465.png); height: 250; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(PUT THAT SAME 400X250 IMAGE RIGHT HERE);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] the girl's bad, Although the man was a man with a gun, he was also just a man. When she rose to her feet she could feel his eyes on her, taking in her assets. It didn’t really help that the huntress had rose slower than necessary because sex appeal always worked when it came to trying to win the other sex over. Even being a virgin, she knew that. Rocky also knew that while she wore a pair of looser fitting jeans that snugged slightly at her curved hips, and a simple t-shirt, the man’s libido was more than likely wondering what was underneath the simple clothing. The huntress personally found it more appealing when women wore more clothes because it would lead to a man’s mind going insane trying to figure out what was underneath. Although, other woman would argue less clothing and clothing optional was far more appealing, Rocky disagreed. If she could have a man hit on her while she wasn’t wearing an outfit that her booty played peek-a-boo, and an extent amount of cleavage wasn’t being presented, she’d give him a fighting chance.
There was a quiet moment after she spoke, and the huntress could tell that the man hesitated. She couldn’t help but to smirk to herself, knowing that he wasn’t going to shoot her. If he was, he would have done it by now. Also, he wouldn’t have kept the gun at the base of her neck still. Having a gun pulled out on you wasn’t the most pleasant experience in the world, and in the past Rocky had given people the fright of it. It was a complete adrenaline rush knowing that your life was literally at the hands of someone else, and that someone had a gun. The last thing that Rocky wanted to do was seem like she was the one in control. Although, that was something that she always did, now wasn’t the time or place. The huntress was going to steal this man’s car, and holy shit, she knew it meant the world to him. Otherwise, she had a feeling that he wouldn’t have pulled a gun on him. So, the very last thing she needed to do was try and steal his control spotlight.
”Alright.”
There was the word that Rocky was looking for; the permission needed to turn around. She now knew that she had a fighting chance with this man, possibly even snag a ride from him if she played her cards right. Rocky knew that she was very pretty woman, but she didn’t flaunt herself. So, she turned around to face the man, her front side being exposed to him. And underneath the street light, Rocky could make out the man’s features. He was tall, a bit over six feet in height, and had a definite muscular tone to him. Even through the thick leather jacket, she could see that both his chest and shoulders were broad. His eyes matched hers, green in color, and his lips were full in shape. Although she showed no sign of it, Rocky decided that this man had to be one of the most attractive men she ever laid her eyes up. Who knew that he would be the owner of the car she nearly stole.
”What are you doing to my car? I swear to… If you have gotten a scratch on my baby, I swear…”
His voice definitely suited his body: deep and muscular. Rocky couldn’t help but to chuckle slightly, smiling afterwards as she checked out the gun, making a mental note that the safety was left on. ”Well, I was going to steal it. I had the lock picked and everything, and then you showed up. You might want lock your baby back up.” The huntress was always one to be blunt and honest, but she tried oh so hard to hide the sarcasm from her voice since she was still attempting to stay on his good side. So far, it seemed like she was doing a decent job of it. Rocky bent over slightly to take a look at the driver’s door, the area she was working at, and smirked. ”Don’t worry, she’s fine. Not a single scratch on her.” Rocky stood upright again, and let her green eyes meet his. She couldn’t help wonder what would happen next. This was the most awkward situation she had ever been in.
words: 734, outfit: light jeans, white tee, jean jacket, whatever else: hope that works!
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by dean on May 29, 2011 12:17:54 GMT -5
What do you do when you see demons
• • • And then your angels become what they swore to fight• • •
What must we do to come back from the
• • •darkness• • •
Dean eyes her cautiously then moved to the side a little trying to get a look at the door. This was not the kinda night he had in mind when he left Sam back at the motel. Sure he was with a pretty girl and all but it wasn't exactly the circumstance he wanted it to be in.
“So what's the deal.” he said as he moved to the door and felt for any scratches, “were you just looking for a joy ride, quick money,” he said getting back to his feet and back up a little, “No scratches,” he said with a sigh of relief and lowered the gun a little.
“You seem pretty calm for a girl who just had a gun up to the back of her head,” Dean said eyeing her, why didn't he notice that sooner. Idiot, to busy checking out her assets, stupid stupid. It was a rookie move. She was completely calm, not a sign of worry on her face.
“Sweetheart your not giving me much choice here,” he said putting the gun behind his back, he decided to put on a farce so she wouldn't report him about his gun, that's all he needed.
“Arms up against the roof of the car,” he said trying to sound formal, “and spread your legs. You just tried to steal a off duty police officers car,” he said. He thought FBI or something a little more flashy but he figured they wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. Police was his best bet, he would have a badge somewhere in his glove box if she pushed for ID. His eyes quickly dropped from her eyes and to her body before he quickly pulled them back up.
Dammit, he thought to himself. He shouldn't have had such a large glass of beer to start off the night. He was feeling a bit...fuzzy.
“Up against the car,” he repeated so she couldn't protest, “your I will take you to the station”.
Give me strengthto believe again
How did we come to thisWords ! 326 (still shorter than my average sorry T_T)
Tagged ! Rocky Balboa haha
Outfit ! Jeans, grey t-shirt and brown leather jacket
Song! N/A
Credit ! Broadwayislove@Caution
Notes !Search time D= |
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Post by raquelreynolds on May 29, 2011 22:47:35 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://i931.photobucket.com/albums/ad153/RochelleHarper_2010/130655655980298581993465.png); height: 250; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(PUT THAT SAME 400X250 IMAGE RIGHT HERE);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] the girl's bad, It wasn’t a surprise that the man didn’t take her word when she said his precious door wasn’t scratched. The huntress would have even taken a look for herself if the situation was flipped around. Rocky was thankful that she had the steady hand that she did because the Impala was obviously the man’s pride and joy; literally his baby. She knew the feeling, and it was a feeling that she missed. Lord better help the person who stole Dalilah from her because she would be sure to bring wrath down upon them. Rocky felt her stomach tighten as she mentally pictured whoever stole her baby cruising around, smoking, skanking up her precious automobile. Her jaw set firmly at the thought of such a tragic scenario, but she shook her head slightly, knowing that she needed to stay focused. It definitely wasn’t the fight circumstances to be having fowl thoughts. What happened, happened, and there was nothing that Rocky could do about it. It was in the past, and she was now set in the present in a different situation. A situation she found uncomfortable yet amusing all at the same time.
”So what’s the deal? Were you just looking for a joyride, quick money?”
Rocky kept her green eyes glued to the man as he double-checked for scratches, and then back up to the initial spot he was at. She chuckled slight, shrugging her slender but slightly muscular shoulder. Did it really matter why she was going to steal his car? Of course the huntress didn’t feel like it mattered because she had her reason, and it wasn’t one to be ashamed of: she found a hunt about two hundred miles from where she was at, had no vehicle, and hitch-hiking wasn’t exactly an option in her book. ”Quick money? Mmmm. I wish, I really do. And this bad boy, a ’67 Chevy Impala… this would have made some nice money.” She turned her head to look towards the car and let out a low, impressive whistle. However, neither of his guesses was correct, and to be frank, Rocky didn’t see the harm in telling him the truth. So, she stuffed her thumbs in her pocket before starting to explain. ”Someone stole my car about a week ago, and I have to head south as soon as possible. Personal reasons.” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the who honest to Gob truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. Her car did get stolen, and she did have to head south.
”You seem pretty calm for a girl who just had a gun up to the back of her head.”
Naturally plump lips pursed and Rocky placed a rather sassy hand on her hip before speaking. ”Girl? Excuse me? I think you meant woman, hunny.” It was always a pet peeve of hers to be referred to as a girl. To Rocky, a girl was little and young, naïve, unaware, and that definitely wasn’t her. Although she took slight offense to the man’s choice of words, Rocky cracked a smile before smirking as she nodded her head towards the gun, making a gesture towards it. The gun was black and appeared to be a .45 from what she could tell, and just like she already expected, the safety was on. Rocky found this to be the perfect time to work some charm, and earn some brownie points. ”Well, for starters, you had the safety on. Now I don’t know about you, but I find guns far more intimidating with the safety off. Secondly, I had a little faith that you’re not loony. Slightly buzzed, yes. But I just had a feeling you wouldn’t actually shoot me. I mean, a dead corpse is far less fun to check out.” Again, she made eye contact, and this time the smirk remained on her lips. Rocky was clever woman, quick with comebacks. She was definitely on the confident side.
”Sweetheart, you’re not giving me much of choice here. Arms up against the roof of the car, and spread your legs. You just tried to steal an off duty police officer’s car. Up against the car, or I will take you to the station.”
At this, Rocky’s jaw dropped and she slowly shook her head in disbelief. No. No. There was no way in hell this man was a cop. The huntress knew that she had bad luck, but this… This was beyond bad. This was pure shitty luck. Shit luck with an extra scoop of shit on top. Green orbs stayed glued to the cop’s as she blinked. She had her suspicions that he wasn’t a cop because if he was, he should have shone his ID right away. Then again, he was buzzed and found a woman stealing his car. So, after a few moments of hesitation, Rocky did exactly what she was told: she took a couple of steps towards the black beauty, and placed her arms up against the roof of the car. Her backside stuck out ever so slightly, and that was out of her control. She spread her legs apart, and turned her head to face the officer. ”Mind showing some identification… Officer? I mean, it would be nice to know your name before you frisk me.” Yes, maybe now she was being on the smart-ass side, but she meant it in all honesty, and her heart skipped a beat as she realized if he did decided to frisk her, he could find a .22 in the back of her jeans. A hunter was always packed, but this man wouldn’t understand that. He was a cop.
words: 937, outfit: light jeans, white tee, jean jacket, whatever else: haha poor Roc
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by dean on May 30, 2011 1:46:44 GMT -5
What do you do when your angels become what they
• • • swore to fight• • •
What must we do to come back from the
• • •darkness• • •
Dean let out a quiet curse as the girl asked for his ID. He placed his gun behind his back and gave her a steady glare.
“Don't you even think about running,” he said keeping eye contact for a few more moments to show he was serious before opening the door and leaning over to his glove box. He opened the glove box, thankfully it was to dark for the girl to see all the badges from outside if she tried to sneak a peak. He pulled out five badges before finding a county badge, deputy Sheriff...he strained his eyes to see.
Reyes...Fernandes.
“You've got to be kidding me,” he mumbled getting out of the car, “Deputy...........Fernandes,” he said putting the badge on top of the car for her to see. He started the search his hands under her arms then moving down her side. He couldn't help himself as his hands slid down her side, his thoughts were staying again.
FOCUS IDIOT, he thought to himself as he continued the search. Trying his hardest not to be to intrusive, she was attractive but coping a feel wouldn't be right, not in this situation anyway. His hand slid across the small of her back where he felt a pistol tucked into the back of her jeans.
“Well what do we have here,” he said pulling the gun free then slipping out the clip and cocking the gun, releasing the one bullet in the chamber.
“A .22,” Dean said with a smile, “what did you steal this from a world war two museum,” he laughed.
“Now would you care to tell me what you were doing with such a weapon,” he continued doing his best trying to sound...cop like.
“You gotta permit for this, can it even shoot,” he said looking down the chamber. He still remembered when his father first taught him how to shoot with a .22
“You got a name sweetheart”.
Give me strengthto believe again
How did we come to thisWords ! 326 (still shorter than my average sorry T_T)
Tagged ! Rocky Balboa haha
Outfit ! Jeans, grey t-shirt and brown leather jacket
Song! N/A
Credit ! Broadwayislove@Caution
Notes !Search time D= |
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Post by raquelreynolds on May 30, 2011 16:29:22 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://i931.photobucket.com/albums/ad153/RochelleHarper_2010/130655655980298581993465.png); height: 250; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(PUT THAT SAME 400X250 IMAGE RIGHT HERE);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] the girl's bad, ”Deputy……… Fernandes”
The brunette shook her head to the side, trying to get a strand of hair of her face, and repeated the action several times before being successful. She wished that she wasn’t leaning against the car, arms across the hood, her bosom sticking out far. It wasn’t the most comfortable of professional position to be in, but it was out of Rocky’s control. She had to listen to the deputy, and do what was told because he was no in control, and the huntress knew it. He was calling all of the shots, and she couldn’t help but to furrow her eyebrows some as he stated his name. Green eyes looked at the ID, and it seemed legit. The picture and everything. Deputy……… Fernandes, huh?” she repeated, even drawing out a fairly long pause between the two words. ”Do you always leave such a dramatic pause when introducing yourself?” Rocky couldn’t help but the chuckle for she found the hesitation rather adorable.
”A .22? What did you steal this from? World War Two?”
Oh, shit. There is was. Rocky knew that he would be bound to find the gun, and she prayed that he wouldn’t, requesting that maybe his hands would just glide right over it and now feel a thing. At least the search was exciting. The huntress thought to herself as her body somehow managed to feel his hands traveling up, down, and under her arms as well as down her sides. A rather large batch of goosebumps planted themselves on her flesh as he had done the search, and Rocky couldn’t help but to shiver at a slight chill that overwhelmed her. She then chuckled at Fernandes’s joke. “Well, it was actually my father’s. He gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday.” She explained in all honesty, hoping to earn a few good points. Rocky found it that if people could relate to her in any kind of way, especially if she was in trouble, the outcome would be favorable.
”Now would you care to tell me what you’re doing with such a weapon? You got a permit for this? Can it even shoot?”
Rocky watched at Fernandes handled the gun, admiring it. He definitely knew how to work those hands around a gun. Either he was a natural with this particular weaponry, or he’s had experience with it for many, many years. More than likely, even both. The huntress herself preferred knives over guns, but the .22 that her father gave her was always on her at all times. ”I’m just carrying it for protection. You know how people are in these little towns. I wasn’t gonna actually shoot someone, I promise. But it’s very intimidating.” For a split second, Rocky debated whether or not she should answer the second question honestly. She decided to because she was already wadding in deep water, and a lie would only make this worse. ”The permit’s in my left back pocket, in my wallet. And can it even shoot? Oh, hell yes. It was one bad girl, deputy. Feel free to shoot a few rounds off her.” The last bit was added quickly, and she hoped that maybe he would forget that she answered where the permit was, and would just go straight to having fun with her toy.
”You got a name, sweetheart?”
Lord knew that Rocky didn’t like giving out her name due for all of the warrants for her arrest. Being a fugitive wasn’t all Smoky and the Bandits made it out to be. Being a hunter, she already had to live a secret life, but with also being a fugitive, it made things all the more complicated. Rocky didn’t answer right away, and she thought for a few seconds, trying to recall what name was written down on her fake license. The license itself was real, but the name wasn’t. Emily Thompson… no. Jocelynn Ranney, definitely not. Rochelle Ramsey… maybe. Was that the one? Fuck! The brunette thought to herself, not remembering at all which ID was in her wallet. ”I’m Rochelle, but I prefer being called Rocky.” she said with a small smile. Rocky. That had been her nickname, and the green-eyed woman never went by Raquel. Yes, it was a pretty enough name, but there was just something about Rocky that sounded spunky, triumphant.
words: 725, outfit: light jeans, white tee, jean jacket, whatever else: ummm, love these two!
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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