Just Got Wicked {Tag: Tristan; London}

[Cynthia]

Cynthia waited patiently as Tristan growled at her on the street, staring at him with expectant eyes and a vacant smile. It wasn't until he'd finished that she took two steps into him, sticking her face right next to his, so close she could almost nuzzle his cheek with her own.

"Quiet, cat. You give yourself away."

She leaned back and smiled - to an onlooker it would seem they'd kissed, but that was just good angles, no illusions. She waited as shock set in on him, and then tossed her hair back a little. She needed to be quick about this before London saw what she was about to do.

"And Tristan... you have no idea what you've just done."

With that, she screamed, "OW, YOU'RE HURTING ME!" and threw herself at the concrete before the no-doubt befuddled jaguar. When she sat up, she had a good welt on her face, with a split lip, and two red marks on her arms, from where someone had 'grabbed' her. God bless illusions, and the power she had to roll anyone's mind who just witnessed that into thinking Tristan HAD shoved and hit her.

And she winked at him, before whipping up a few tears and going back to her helpess, weak appearance.

[London DeMortei]

Tristan, as much as he hated her, had to give her credit.  He realized pretty quickly that she couldn't be human if she knew to call him 'cat', but he hadn't been expecting what she did.  He just stared at her, his mouth open a bit like he was going to say something, but what could he say?  There was NOTHING about that situation, especially as he saw the marks on her and then that wink, that he could say or do to fix things.  "You win that one," he finally whispered, aware that he was in serious shit.

Then, his dad flew out of the house, and all he could do was turn wide, horrified eyes on the man.

There was a certain something that London had grown accustomed to, almost to the point that he could guess what Carmine or Tristan would do without much fault, but hearing Cynthia scream didn't factor into any of that, which was why he was out the door in about 30 seconds.  He took in the scene in seconds, with the bruised, hurt girl crying on the ground and his idiot son staring at him like he didn't know what was going on.

"You idiot!  What have you DONE?" he snapped, glaring at the boy and approaching Cynthia to help her up.  "Get in the house, NOW."

Surprisingly, Tristan didn't argue.  He almost would have expected him to, given this little touch of violence from him.  He looked the the girl and offered up an apologetic sort of smile.  "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to hit him back, Cynthia.  I'm sorry, he's never done anything quite this stupid."

[Cynthia]

Cynthia stared at London. She'd expected him to attack him on the street. But, no... he was a little more tempered than that. Not tempered, no, that wasn't the right word. Calculating. Cold. Cynthia knew a trainer like that, who used the anticipation of fear with his creatures to break them. She couldn't remember his name, but she knew the tactic; it was an effective one.

She sat up and brushed herself off, wiping at her face in an irritated, ashamed manner. She drew her knees to her chest and looked at her hands, at the blood she'd wiped from her mouth. "Great. What the hell will I tell my mom?" she asked herself aloud. She shook her head and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself like she was cold. She figured it'd be a natural victim reaction.

"Hit him back? Au contraire, he needs to be put in a cage," she snapped. She looked away angrily, hurt. In the back of her head, she was yawning. All this acting was such a pain in the ass. She needed to feed, soon. She didn't dare steal a glance at London; he was too fucking observant. He would make a good snack, though. Shifter blood was something, and jaguar... they had some of the best kind.

[London DeMortei]

She was good.  London was used to watching people for faults in their acts, but he didn't see one here.  She was very good, to the point that he didn't notice.  He chuckled rather darkly at her suggestion.  "I'll take that one into consideration.  If I wouldn't have to let him out to go to school, and he didn't have such a big mouth, it'd be an excellent suggestion," he said, and he meant it.  To any normal girl, it may have seemed like he was teasing her, but he wasn't.  If he could have put the brat in a cage until he learned some respect, or until he felt like letting the idiot out, he would have.

"If you'd like, I can speak with your mother.  I'm sure we could come to some sort of an understanding," he offered, considering how he was going to deal with this without a lawsuit or having Tristan's stupid ass in jail. 

[Cynthia]

She shook her head a little. "Believe me, there's very little you could say..." she trailed off. She looked up at the sky, for something to say, and then looked back to him. "Listen, Mr - London... Don't worry about it." She offered him a smile, one of those 'trying to brush it off but still very bothered' sorts that girls were so good at doing when they wanted to appear strong. Cynthia had it down to an art, THAT smile.

"But thank you," she said, voice dropping a little. No, she wasn't going to cry, but she'd packed that one with some fake emotions for him to sort out later. She reached out suddenly for him, which wasn't too hard to imagine considering she'd been creeping closer and closer, and hugged him briefly. It was seemingly innocent, except that Cynthia made sure she was completely pressed against him, nose buried in his chest for a split second.

She'd forgotten how good men's cologne smelled. She actually felt weak for a moment, and realized that little bit of crowd control had caused her to exert more energy than she'd planned for. She needed to feed. She didn't want to take it out on Tristan's father, either.

[London DeMortei]

Oh, yes, very good.  He fell for it, not an easy accomplishment on her part, and sighed.  Of course, part of it was an act on his part as well.  He was intrigued by her, but his concern laid in her parents not suing or pressing charges.  If he played it right, which it looked like he had, he'd be in the clear, as would Tristan. 

Her hug actually surprised him, but he supposed that some women were prone to doing that.  Carmine sometimes wanted to cling to him when she apologized, so it wasn't a completely foreign thing to him.  Women were so easy.

"You're welcome.  Please, let me know if you ever need anything, and rest assured; I will deal with Tristan."  THAT was a promise.  That boy wouldn't know what hit him after all this.

[Cynthia]

Cynthia could clearly read that he wasn't really worried about her so much as his own ass, and that pissed her off, though you'd never have known it. She rolled up onto her tiptoes as though she were going to tell him something, and instead gave him a light peck on the cheek - completely chaste. As she did so, she invited herself into his mind for a brief moment, just to drop off some inappropriate ideas. There was nothing like confusing someone in that manner. She was thankful she was a Kendra sometimes.

She flattened back to her feet, and then looked at her watch. She looked up again, and gave a little wave. "I'm sure I'll... see you around." She smiled a little, this time sort of like she had inside before Tristan had dropped in unannounced, and then turned and began a quick jog down the road (which wouldn't last very long; as soon as she was out of eyesight she'd vanish).

[London DeMortei]

If that was the sort of thing she did when she was pissed off, he wouldn't really mind it so much.  In fact, he blinked as such inappropriate thoughts flashed through his mind when she kissed his cheek, and he couldn't really say that he honestly didn't like any of them.  It was just the thought that she was his son's age that made them inappropriate, and that was why he'd never think of acting upon them.

They were some hot ideas, though.  He HAD to admit it.

"Oh, I hope so," he told her, smiling in that charming, open and friendly manner he had, though his eyes said that some of those ideas were lingering.  Somehow, he managed to escape looking like a total pervert, though.  Pure talent.

Watching her leave for a moment was nice, but he had other things to attend to.  Like Tristan, who he found sitting in the living room, just waiting.  Amazing how getting the boy into a routine had worked so nicely.  They both knew what was coming, Tristan knew it would be worse if he tried to avoid it, and so he'd done what London had told him multiple times.  He waited to take it like a man. 

About damn time.

He was already in the process of pulling his belt off, though it wasn't the ends he held when he approached his son.  He much preferred to have the metal buckle and the belt end flying free, since they hurt more and left better marks.  The fact that Tristan, like himself, would heal rather quickly made it all the better.  Carmine was more delicate. 

"I don't know what you were thinking," he snarled, the pleasant air he'd had with Cynthia gone in an instant.  "But it was very, very stupid.  Did you think I wouldn't catch you skipping?  And what the HELL would possess you to attack that girl?  Do you WANT to make my life Hell?"

Tristan wasn't dumb, so he wasn't going to answer honestly, but he also didn't want to lie outright just to please the asshole.  So, he pretended he was dumb.  "I don't know."  His father always loved that answer, but at least it'd cut out some of the small talk so the older man could start swinging and get it over with. 

Thanks to Cynthia, Tristan had homework.

He took the first shot in the back, his punishment for not turning around, but the back was probably better.  He flinched, but made an effort not to say anything.  He wasn't getting called a wimp again, even if the next few hurt even more.  That buckle was Hell.