It’s
like one more chance to say no. It’s one final chance to search for freedom in
the mess this woman is presenting her with. It’s something that Sayuri could
fight with the entirety of her being or she could submit. Either way, she is left with a decision. And she finds it best to accept that woman’s hand, her
nails awfully sharp and brutal looking on an almost delicate limb.
“How
instinctual humans ought to be,” she
muses quietly. Are they nothing more than action and reaction? What a strange
woman, she thinks. She wonders if it’s meant to be a literal or a metaphorical
statement, and of what the meaning behind it is. Perhaps she simply likes
hearing herself talk is all? Sayuri hopes as much.
RAGYO KIRYUIN pulls the woman close. Closer, then, pressing their bodies together in the embrace, where the woman could FEEL her, the presence which incited many a crowd of men to collapse to their knees, to BOW before a woman they heralded as their EMPRESS, as their one and only CEO, as the only WORTHY head of the KIRYUIN CLAN. Her lips press to the forehead of the woman, feeling more like little teeth than the SOFT SKIN that should have been there, either as an amenity or something particularly MORE.
“Tell me,” Her hands roam. They move through wild hair, TAMING the strands as they comb through them, or perhaps the hair MOVED around the breadth of her long fingers, parting out of both FEAR and something even more. “What do your INSTINCTS tell you?”
jiabisu-archives-deactivated201: "“We’re beautiful like the diamond-backed snake, or the striped tiger, yet we’re merciless killers.”"
Interview with the Vampire (book) Sentence Starters
“HOW FLATTERING, but a DROLL comparison all the same.” RAGYO KIRYUIN says, lips FLICKERING into a bared smile. “I am merely a BEING. More than JUST a merciless KILLER, more than the simple BEAUTY of an animal!”
She
understood the double entendre. She could easily read between the lines of what
the woman is offering. And she honestly considers it. Why not give up a bit of
control? That doesn’t mean she has to give up her pride, does it? She doesn’t
think so. And it’s been far too long since she’s had her control given up to a
worthy enough partner. Usually it’s all about give and take. And never about
the delicacies of such a hard
relationship between control and lack thereof.
“It’s hard not to have wandering
eyes,” she admits with a shrug. It’s hard to always be in control of herself
too. Always impulsive, ever thinking on her feet instead of ahead. “I’m always
open to try new things… So why not?” It’s a tender matter, of entrusting the
woman with herself. She feels as though it won’t be anywhere near as emotional
as it usually gets and more akin to physicality. She’s fine with that.
THE WILLINGNESS TO GIVE UP CONTROL did not bother RAGYO KIRYUIN. Those who fought NEEDLESSLY against the inherent masters of the world were DULL, SHORT-SIGHTED CREATURES to begin with. She bothered with them only so long as the prospect was INTERESTING, and enjoyed only their mind-numbed SYCOPHANCY. The person and personality beforehand were nothing short of IRRITATING to the point of deserving the HEEL in their stomach, however SHARPLY it was delivered. Here, when the agreement of submission was so obvious, RAGYO KIRYUIN’S painted lips danced with her own amusement.
She extends her hand, palm-up. “La vie est drole,” RAGYO KIRYUIN murmurs, the edge of her TEETH like that of a knife. “Life is amusing… and DREADFULLY SHORT. Come to me. Let me show you just how INSTINCTUAL human beings OUGHT to be.”
“IF YOU are so CONFIDENT,” Comes the BOOMING voice of the EMPRESS of the Kiryuin Conglomerate, the REGALITY of REVOCS in its entirety; RAGYO KIRYUIN. “THEN why do you worry over the VALUES of the MASSES? The heart of thinking? The ORIGIN of thought? Don’t be so RIDICULOUS!” She ignored the slight against her own confidence.
In her EMINENCE, how could she be anything but truly CONFIDENT in herself? She was a BEING of grandeur, of inevitable preeminence, which hung in her RADIATING FORM – her body was as BRILLIANT as the sun, and looking at the pale INSIPIDNESS of the other woman’s… yes, who WAS the most CONFIDENT out of both of them? RAGYO KIRYUIN had hardly the desire to LINGER on the thought for longer than was necessary. Such was the SUM of common question. Her mind was not SUITED to malingering over the insecurities of another woman.
Her heels CLICK against the pavement, body TURNED away – a back to show DISRESPECT and DISINTEREST in continuing the conversation, as callous and NUMB as it was beginning to make her. The glow of her hair passed over the other woman, a MULTIVARIANT CORONA. “Maybe I will DEIGN to take in your VIEWPOINT once you’ve surpassed UNDERHANDED INSULTS to prove yourself. As of now… you only serve to make yourself UGLY.”
“I
should show you my graveyard of broken brushes,” she drawls dryly. She had a
designated space for them actually. She hadn’t meant to at first, but it happened. And for some reason, the pile never
leaves no matter how many times she cleans it. “Unless you have a stainless
steel brush with wide bristles, I don’t think there’s anything that could tame
this hair.” She doesn’t care for the lack of space, oddly enough. The woman’s
movements are rather easy to read.
She
tries to resist giving the woman a once over, her eyes following the tracing
fingers along a protruding collar bone. Her eyes tend to rest on places where
the male gaze usually would—for the same reasons as well. And Sayuri rips her
silvery hues from the usual resting places to the woman’s face. It’s not that
she’s ashamed as to where her gaze
usually leads, it’s more for respect
of the other party. She has no doubt the woman’s noticed. Sayuri doesn’t bring
it up though. She’ll hear about it soon enough.
IT WASwhat RAGYO KIRYUIN had wanted; the drawn eye, dragging itself uncontrolled over the BEAUTY of her form. She does not move the hand over her collarbone except to move DOWN, grazing the palm gently over BREAST and HIP. There was power in this. Power in ensuring that all the ATTENTION of the other woman was most solely, most assuredly, onto her form and HERS alone. RAGYO KIRYUIN could control where the eye SET ITSELF. Could control what was seen and what was not seen, all through the BRUSQUE motion of a finely manicured and beautiful hand.
“You have such WANDERING eyes,” RAGYO KIRYUIN muses aloud, purple lips CURLING into a closed, DANGEROUS smile. “No self-control in these matters at all. As WILD as your hair. Maybe you ought to ENTRUST that to me. I could WHIP your hair into SUBMISSION for you.”
“I
didn’t say you needed any approval.
But how do you keep it so fluffy?” Discerning
hair color? She sounds like Relius. Sayuri nearly rolls her eyes. Perhaps, if
she keeps it in the back of her mind, the woman might sound less offense and
more human… Or at least sociable. “My hair defies any brush that
touches it. I feel like your hair would be much more welcoming to any
management, honestly.” She wishes for easier to manage hair. Yes, it’s short,
but the thick and textured hair has broken so many brushes, she doesn’t know
what to do.
RAGYO KIRYUINlaughs; lighter than her usual laughs, which so often came across as intensely COLD in every way possible – but in no way FELT real, or anything less than the OBLIGATORY chuckle of an EMPRESS uneasily amused. Her hand reaches for SAYURI HIYASHI’S hair, sense of space ignored as it take a strand of those crimson locks between both her thumb and forefinger, examining its quality as the GRAND COUTURIER may have with a bit of THREAD. Her hair was not unlike that of the LIFE FIBERS themselves, a quality which made her more appealing to the narrowed, deciphering EYE of RAGYO KIRYUIN.
“You would think so,” RAGYO KIRYUIN says, releasing her hair in a moment, hand falling back to trace fingers along her collarbone. A motion meant to DRAW THE EYE, for she dressed and did herself for nothing except to FEEL the eye on her, as being sighted and admired for the BRILLIANT RULER that she was gave her a pleasant shiver along the skin. “But with all hair, it is entirely about making the strands SUBMIT. The more stubborn it is, the harder one must EXERT control over it. Such is the same with RULING other people; when they fight hard, you must fight HARDER.”
Real or no, she does have a decent chest. Sayuri’s a bit bothered by that. She’d actually wasted a chance. How odd for her. “If you ignore the silver though, her hair is kind of nice. All those colors… Jeez. The upkeep must be a pain in the ass.”
“YOUact as though I NEED your approval.” Comes the CLIPPED tones of the EMPRESS of the KIRYUIN CONGLOMERATE; the CEO upon whom all fell on one knee before. “The FLATTERY is welcome. Such a DISCERNING hair color as yours is one that so FEW can pull off. At least you do the red some JUSTICE.”
Oh please. What use are clothes to me? What use is moral form? You act as if clothing is life and yet–It’s all severed by a single thread. Life, love, existence… Yes, your sense of style is poor. Your sense of life is even worse. For what is all of this in the face of inescapable death?
CLOTHING is life. We COVER our bodies in order to cover up our own ORIGINAL SINS; we are ashamed of that which we ‘ cannot ‘ show, so we buy clothing in order to feel POWERFUL. We are SLAVES to clothing —- it is CLOTHING that has determined our course in life. It is CLOTHING that has ensured the evolution of our species, from LIFE unto DEATH. You treat it as though it has no place in life! If that is so, then BARE your form to me. Turn your NAKEDNESS over to me, if you wish to FLAGRANTLY toss CLOTHING aside so casually!
