A Little Wicked

The dungeons were not a place she chose to frequent often, if at all. It was musty, rank, and the sounds of pleading inmates made her want to start chewing through the bars of her cell. She wasn't here long, but she made the best of it with minimal resources available to her. With the bat of her lashes to the guards that made their rounds every night, she was able to coax them in with a viper's sweet tongue. They brought her small, hardly noticeable meals, more often than an inmate was allowed; occasionally they spoiled her with a hare, and she offered her thanks with doe-eyed glances and a coquettish grin. She even went as far as promising one she would take up his offer on a fresh start with him should she be a good girl and get out on an early release. One younger, more impressionable solider-boy helped to keep her cell less rank by bringing fresh flowers down every so often. What a shame they'd wilt away, and all of the boy's efforts to keep the pretty lady in the cell happy along with them.

Soon enough, one of the same guards would come down and open her cell door; its likely they'd expect a kiss on the cheek and for her to arrange plans for a date later down the road. She would do neither, of course. Instead, she would leave them with a trick to remember: coaxing them close enough to shove them into the cell she sat in, slam the steel bars on them and throw away the key. Granted, another would come along and let him out, but temporary satisfaction was better than none at all.

She could hear their claws against the floor approaching, her ears tempted to perk slightly at the sound. She heard a single set, but their pace didn't match the usual eagerness of the other's. Oakwood overwhelmed the more floral scents of her cell now, this guard's musk making them known before she could even see a face. Propped against the wall of her cell, she remained unphased. Cool emeralds peered through the steel bars infront of her, searching for the body that was marching to release her. "A little faster, please—I'd like to bathe the filth of this place away sooner rather than later." she softly coo's, her chords not much more than a whisper.

It seemed they were a little short staffed in the dungeons this week, so Roman had rose to the request for bodies down under. While some of his prestige may consider themselves above such duties, for him it was a welcomed change of pace; one where he could focus on the faces of those who commit crimes instead of the ones that haunt his dreams at night. Fatigue was the culprit for the fine lines in his face as of late, but the man was one who ran on sheer willpower for his strength sometimes, so his posture was maintained - head up and above his shoulders, tail level with his spine and olive green eyes as sharp as ever as he descended into the murky depths where the cells were.

Pupils dilated as his vision adjusted to the dim light. He was here for one purpose, much to the displeasure of every wolf he passed as he sought out the cell with a single, particular prisoner. She was not a first-timer, instead one who seemed to find herself behind bars every now and again, and it wasn't lost on him that she seemed to be treated kinder than most whenever she showed up. But he had no evidence, and if he was truthful, he just didn't care either. It was never enough to suspect conspiracies regarding the men down here, and it wasn't like she was being broken out.

Roman wasn't stupid, though. He always made time to read up on a prisoners file, to learn if they had any tricks that were documented within the papers before he went to release them. He didn't enjoy mind games, nor did he want to be jumped either once the cell door opened. He mulled over her file as he strode leisurely towards her cell, contemplating the reasons behind it being so vague and thin despite the way she seemed to wrap some of the soldiers around her finger.

"A little faster, please—I'd like to bathe the filth of this place away sooner rather than later." her voice, though soft, carries to him easily and he picks it out over the pleads and wails of the other inmates. Black ears twitch, swiveling forward as he comes up to her door, peering in and finding the little apple leaning against the wall near the back of the cell. Before he reached for his keys, he leans forward so she could see his face in the dingy light.

And he always gained a better view of her - her coat resembled that of a solar flare, bright as the sun and he could see the sparkles of golden hairs even from his distance. With eyes of liquid venom, it's no wonder how the other men struggle with maintaining their pledges of impartiality; one look of her and he found himself fraying a little as well. Couple that with the coy whisper she'd given already, and Roman knew that he would need to keep the walls around his resolve heavily guarded. Black lips tightened into a fine line as he quietly sighed.

"It'll take quite some time to wash the mildew from your pelt, so I don't think we are in any kind of rush." he responds, not unkindly. A carefully crafted mask was in position upon his face, but he couldn't help the amused glimmer that sparkled in his eyes as he inserted the key into the lock, taking care to go slower than usual by pretending to fumble with it.

This man was infact not a boy, after all. The way he carried himself and conducted his duties was far from that of a little soldier boy. No, this was a man- a tall, dark, and handsome one, at that. He was a tall glass of water, and damn her ever-craving mind for wanting to take a sip out of that glass.

He was fiddling with a file, something she knew was thin—but not due to her lack of misconduct and illegal activities— because most important findings on her, or any of the O'Conaills for that matter, were already found and tucked away for safe keeping—which meant out of the hands of any blockheaded army members. Her lips dared to quirk in a smile, the thought fading as quickly as it disappeared.

His face is better focused on when he peers through her cell bars. She remains calm, not quite coiling to allow herself the strike she was gearing up. Then she hears the jingling of her keys, followed by a voice that begins to pull her attention in.

We? she purrs, a brow quirking as she rises to all fours. One foot leads infront of the other and she gracefully wanders closer to the cell bars. Does that imply that you'll be helping me do that, hmm?" she mused softly, her chin coming to rest between the bars of the cell door. She could hear whispers better when she was up here- a few rumblings sounded more like warnings, talk of a Colonel making rounds here, and she was the lucky one to meet him first. Or maybe I'll just ask one of the little toy soldiers to run away with me to the hot springs. But you seem like the type to be a little more thorough..decisions decisions" cool green eyes roll over with her crown closer to the bars that separated one another's muzzles. Subtly, she glanced towards the key in the lock, waiting for the moment she'll hear it click the door unlocked and she'll be free.

It was clear by the way she sashayed over to him that she likened herself to some kind of Goddess. His eyes watch her closely, each movement assessed on whether it was some disguise, whether she was going to pounce the second the door opened. And so far, she had done nothing to convince him otherwise. If he was a dumber man, he'd be bowing to her by now, he knew. Anything to make the pretty little girl smile and say his name...

He removes his hand from the keys, letting them fall to the ground with a clatter. His eyes never left her face as a paw caught the metal, the coolness feeling nice on his worn pads. He kicked them behind him, a single white brow arched as he gauged just how much he could push her buttons. The way her eyes had watched the keys in the lock told him enough - she was desperate to get out of here, even if she wasn't rabidly foaming at the mouth for the freedom.

And so Roman leaned in closer, his black, wet nose mere inches from hers.

"Say please," he whispered, his voice husky and toying the line of becoming a growl. He was so close he could feel her breath on the fine whiskers of his cheeks, and his eyes glittered not with malice, but with innocent mirth. If she wanted to play her sexy games, he had no problem giving it right back to her. It wasn't like any of the other men would contradict him.

He doesn't budge, doesn't buckle under her playful invitation. He watches her, reads her, toys with her. Her bright emeralds are nearly consumed with darkness the second they leave his as they race to follow the clank of metal keys meeting one another, jumbling up as they come into contact with his other paw and are slid behind him on the stone floor. She gives a short sigh as her lips curl slightly into a sweet, pure smile. Her gaze finds him again, his breath is hot on her muzzle as they linger inches from one another.

She leans up and into him slowly and carefully, her muzzle caresses the side of his as she snakes her way closer to an ear. "Wouldn't you rather hear me say.." she draws in a short breath, a soft hum escaping on the exhale. "Please, Colonel" her chords subtly drag out the two words together, the choice running solely on the fact that she heard mere whispers about this man's ranking. She pulls her muzzle back slowly, once more gently caressing the side of his as she draws back. She feigns and jnncoent voice for a moment as she slips over to his other ear. " I promise I'll be a good girl this time.." she trails off slowly, pulling herself back and pivoting to lean her weight against the cell door, walking down the length of it. "But that's not what you want, is it?" she purrs as a delighted, dark hum escapes her lips. She pulls away from the cell door and pivots to lay herself out on the cold stone beneath her. She offers him a lidded gaze upwards, a laugh rolls from her lips.

She clicks her tongue quietly, offering him a pearly white grin for a brief second. "Noo... if you wanted a good girl to beg and whimper and leave that bored little glint in your eye unsatisfied—you wouldn't be wasting your time down here." she quirks a brow, growing impatient by the second but she doesn't let it show on her features quite yet.

A fire deep within his hips ignited like the spark of a wildfire as she all but moaned his title, loud enough for the other prisoners to hear. Whispers, cat calls and laughter trickled through the bars of the cells, and he quickly stamped out his desire as it then transformed into frustration at the fact they now had an audience. "I promise I'll be a good girl this time.." This didn't seem to phase her in the least as she drew back from him, dropping to the ground to pose dramatically - and provocatively - at him, as a thin veil upon her muzzle barely managed to obscure the sinister intentions behind it.

"But that's not what you want, is it?"

Olive eyes narrow instantly, so sharp they cut into her as she laughed then, apparently finding him amusing. Well, that was at least a two way street.

"Noo... if you wanted a good girl to beg and whimper and leave that bored little glint in your eye unsatisfied—you wouldn't be wasting your time down here."

He swallowed, his mouth salivating far more than his pride wanted to admit.

"Pretty and smart, what a lucky guy I am to be blessed with your company," he returned dryly, his teeth clicking shut. It was absolutely imperative to him that he didn't let an ounce of how he was truly feeling shine through for her to see, or else he'd never regain control. Instead, he pressed his weight down on the keys, making them grate against the stone ground as he stared her down. "But no, sweetheart - I know better than to stick my dick in crazy." he flashed a toothy grin back at her then, hooking a toe into the ring of the keys and swinging them upwards. In one deft motion, he had the door swinging open with a clang.

"You're free to go, but not before I get some paw prints." his eyes glanced down, taking a pad of ink and some papers out of her file and tossing them to the ground by her paws. He then stood there, blocking the open door with his larger body, looking expectantly at her as he reeled himself in internally.

Patience was never a skill of hers, not when it came to getting what she wants—and what she wanted was for this Imperial Stud of a man to shut his pretty face and let her out already. Instead, they watch one another with needle scaling green gazes. Her ears prick at the hum of amusement they've gained from the other inmates, a smirk twists on one side of her lips. She devours the attention, absorbs the minor little bout of chaos she—the two of them—has created. Her tail thumps softly on the ground before she slowly draws herself up to sit.

She gives a short high-pitched chirp of a laugh at his baritones thrumming in her ears, her attention following the keys however, rather than the man's face. "Pretty and smart, does that not out weigh the crazy enough for you to do so?" the question is laced with with a honey sweet venom, chords cool and soothing as she speaks. She pokes and prods, watching the man and the keys all work in unison to come to the lock on her door and swinging it open. Her tail flicks before her lithe frame is lifted from the stone and she pads slowly over to the Colone, playing coy as she neared him.

She stops inches away from him, the musk of Oakwood slowly burned a soothing reminder of his scent into her snout. Should I leave my scent on these papers as well? Something to remember me by, when you're nose deep in my business? She's speaking up at him, delicate chords are soft and produce a melody any could hum to and lose themselves in if they allowed it. She reclines to her rear-end with a quiet, contemplative sigh, a pout leaves her lips "And if I don't give you these pretty prints of mine– then what?" She extends one out, flipping it over and examines it infront of them. She's too lost in her little game with the pretty man to remember she was going to shove whoever it was tjay let's her out in her cell and throw away the keys. No, instead she's thinking of all the ways she could provoke this man. "I could make sure none of these are the same, you know. And then the next time I check in to this cozy little establishment, theyll be different. It may hurt just a bit.. but ive heard pleasure is a worth while reward for pain." she gives another heavy lidded gaze up at him as she nonchalantly readies herself into a flight mode, should she need to use it. While she did not fear any man-or woman- she knew when she was at a disadvantage. For now, she was a harmless criminal toying with her ticket out of here, pushing the limits of the man she likely wouldn't try to cross paths again in the future.

How quick she was to move once the bars had swung open. Olive eyes watched her attentively; searching for any of the telltale signs of a criminal twitching to escape. Roman wouldn't be so bold as to say he had her all figured out after only a few moments, but he had a vague understanding at the very least - this was a woman who used her feminine curves and guile to get her way. And while he wasn't one to mingle with types like her, his life had been fairly boring lately (save for his scandalous sister) and he wouldn't deny the entertainment this entire situation gave him.

Waltzing over to him like a suave little kitty cat, the Colonel did nothing but flick an ear at her words. With an impassive expression, he looked down the length of his nose at her as she spoke.

"And if I don't give you these pretty prints of mine– then what?" The large man smirked, leaning a hip into one side of the cell door, and resting his shoulder on the opposite one.

"Well, then you're pretty paws won't be going very far from this cell, now will they?" he returned with a breathy chuckle.

"I could make sure none of these are the same, you know. And then the next time I check in to this cozy little establishment, theyll be different. It may hurt just a bit.. but ive heard pleasure is a worth while reward for pain."

He swallowed slowly as she looked up at him then, and he had to take a deep, steadying breath. Malicious thoughts tainted the edges of his mind, causing him to think about how her voice would change when being hurt. It would be easy enough to be one of those guards down here... his eyes flickered to the other soldiers, noticing how they purposefully didn't look their way despite the snickers and calls he had heard earlier. If anything, the only audience would be the other heathens in their own cells. Besides, he was so pent up that it would be over before she could blink twice, but that brought a whole different side to it. If they were to ever see each other again, he'd never live down how quick he was.

The ebony man scowled, lips twitching over his teeth not because she was successful - this time - in provoking him, but because of the complexities of where they were, and who was around. He couldn't stoop to that level; the ghost of his father would come back to haunt him specifically. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Hurry up," he muttered impatiently, his voice thick with an array of emotions as his pale green eyes glanced away from her.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was your beautiful, little criminal, Colonel, I'd think you actually like watching me and my every move. she says as she states back up at him, watching him the same way he is her. A grin doesn't hide from him now, neither does her amusement. Perhaps he's simply paying attention to the inmate thats being released once again, doing his job as he should, unlike her little play things that have kept her comfortable down here.

Her gaze is free'd at the sound of his voice, a brow quirks and lips part. She wouldn't allow herself to stay here another night, even if Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome watched her sleep—among other things— all night. She would give him his prints, but not quite as easily as he thought. Maybe, maybe not—would you spend more time staring at me as I bolt away, or would that brain of yours in that beautiful head tell you to chase me instead?.

She raises a paw, waving it delicately in his space like it's something to be caught and earned. The scowl on his face, met with the gruffness of his voice is something she snickers at, but notices his gaze leave her for a brief moment. She clicks her tongue, a faux pout slathered across her face as she slowly lowers and paw and moves closer to him while he isn't watching. Her muzzle reaches upwards, delicately slow as she invades his space, her heart dares to hammer in her chest at the chance of an adrenaline rush setting in. Lips reach his muzzle and she hovers, not quite offering a peck on the cheek but she gives a short, soft hum. Don't look so grumpy,it makes that handsome face rather.. unappealing. she chimes, and then all in the same movement she pushes off of him and makes a dash for the space between him and the cell door. Her smaller frame dips under his shoulder and she digs her claws into the stone beneath them. She doesn't actually expect to get away without being caught–she's banking on him catching her, actually, giving the man no choice but to sink his teeth into her and shove her to the ground. She lied about the unappealing grump look, he pulls it off in a way that makes her want to see more it, be the reason his face is twisted and contorted in frustration or anger or both. If he catches her, she'll have no choice but to give the man what he wants, and if he doesn't, that just means he'll come looking for her–something she doesn't think she'd be opposed to like she initially thought.

exit fade via aely running away