Description: Sie Kensou has a very important package he has to pick up in total secrecy in downtown Sunshine City, nearly the middle of the night! A very suspicious act; and one that he wants the rest of the Psycho Soldiers to keep in the dark about. But when he stumbles into the mauve distract with a package in tow, he runs into some trouble whose name is Bonne Jenet, and whose game is whatever you want, sailor. Will Kensou keep his personal vows towards Athena? Or will the pop star luck out and finally get Kensou to stop chasing her for good!
Sunshine City After Dark. 10 PM. Downtown. Dangerous for some.
But not for a dedicated Psycho Soldier like Kensou.
Kensou's mysterious business in Sunshine City was a complete mystery. Everything that Kensou was doing was part of that mystery. No one could know what he was up to. He had managed to get rid of Momoko by sending her along her way out of the country, while distracting her with the boredom of 'official Psycho Soldier business.' Now with her out of the way, and not nosing around, Kensou could finally make the pick up. The pick up of a very special product in the heart of Sunshine City.
A product that nobody else could know about.
The free hand pumping freely side to side, the shorts-wearing boy strides through the sinful district of Sunshine City, clutching the mysterious package. The package was a bit elusive, and very hard to come by. And after he found out that Athena could use the computer, Kensou did NOT want to risk using online shopping. What would she think? No, Kensou had to do it secretly. He was an adult now! And he could brave secret!
But not, uh, Athena's piercing judgement of his hobbies and habits.
The streets are mostly clear here, despite the seedy setting. Kensou's special delivery was unfortunately a bit grey in terms of legality and access, especially in Sunshine City, and he had to go into the bad part of the neighbor to pick it up. He was not quite the red light district. Not even the brave Psycho Soldier could risk such temptation against his sweet innocence and purity! No, this was the less sinful neighbor, the Mauve district. It wasn't QUITE red, and instead of topless bars, they had bikini bars. And instead of head shops, they have tobacco shops! Edgy stuff like that!
And Kensou could handle that kind of edgy.
"Ya-hoooooo~!"
The only daughter of the most prestigious merchant family in Bristol is in high spirits this night, and not only because she's surrounded by half-naked ladies and - more notably by far - their hunksome male counterparts. No, indeed, Sie Kensou's not the only one who's come to Southtown in search of the ultimate item to enhance his tawdry existence; tonight is the night that Genette Miranda Bahn has embarked on a most pivotal quest, the importance of which might change her piratical lifestyle forever...
For better, or for worse, tonight she has quested for ultimate booze.
As the lonely Psycho Soldier makes his way through the semi-seedy overbelly of Sunshine, the Pirate Queen celebrates her success by imbibing of the gods' own nectar. The grandest of all beverages, the crown jewel in the throat of Gaia herself, and the bottle that sank Blackbeard's mighty rulership of the seven seas. There's only one thing it could be, her blue eyes glinting as she spins about in the gloomy, mauve-lit street, bangles gleaming upon one perfectly-toned, slender arm, fingers thrusting forth.
"Rum!" Comes the dulcet cry from the English Rose, "Give me more rum!"
A vast and bulky figure emerges from shadow, grinning ear-to-ear and suppressing a righteous hiccup as he presents the sloshing, golden liquid in its dusty bottle. This isn't any old rum; but Old Abobo's Best, legendary as the only pirate brew simmered in vats entirely landlocked. The secret ingredient is pain, the pain of a forgotten sailor separated from the sea, and pain...
"Yo ho ho!" Pain is delicious, thinks Bonne Jenet, as she tips the bottle back with a matching grin on her own lips, gulping down thick mouthfuls of sugary bliss, twisting gracefully about in a wild flourish to proceed down the street. Her eight-strong crew move to follow, a collection of mismatched shapes all bristling with hardware and glowing with the rum in their bellies. Nothing will stop their homeward advance, least of all...
The lonely Soldier. There's a moment in time where Jenet's lovingly manicured brow arches, her lips forming the beginnings of surprise as her unstoppable drunken dance carries her toward the approaching boy. And then she's slamming into him.
Chest-first.
Ba-Non-Non-Nong!
Kensou has been, for the most part, doing WHATEVER he could do avoid eye contact with EVERYBODY that was HAPPENED to be here. Not only did he NOT want to have a very awkward conversation with 'nice ladies', drunks, and thieves. He also didn't want people to ask about his package. See, as long as NOBODY asked about the package, everything was fine. But then, Kensou, facing down, doesn't notice the woman stepping out, and he strides headfirst straight into her chest. Bouncing off, his package goes flying, landing on the sidewalk, as he stumbles to the ground. Looking up finally, his face goes bright red as he realizes who he ran into.
A drunken, theiving ''nice lady.'
Kensou looks down at the ground, as he quickly scrambles back to his feet. Eyes fixed straight to her shoes, he simply glows bright red. "I'm sorry, nice lady, I did not see you!" Kensou sputters, still averting his eyes. And suddenly, his eyes go wide. He looks down at his hands, palms open. And then he bursts out without a second thought.
"My package! It must have slipped out...!"
There's a common misconception that a 'large' lady's chest is somehow detached from her more sensory organs, and acts as something of a barrier between the outside world and she; this is, in fact, most regrettably not the case. Genette's bountiful twin torpedoes, peaking so astonishingly-pertly against the soft purple fabric of her piratically-adorned dress, are quick to send alarm signals to her brain when they feel the quiver of impact.
In later life she might come to regret it, but in the here and now it's simply enough to turn her budding stumble into a laughing, merry bob and sway backward. In time with Kensou's rebound she reverses the motion to straighten up and lean forward with a big, friendly smile on rum-soaked lips, those blue eyes bright with a compellingly Puckish mischief.
"Sacre bleu," she good-naturedly slurs, bangles a-jangle as she lifts the hand not bearing rum to brush the boy's cheek with the backs of long, cool fingers, the tips bearing nails that just lightly pull away, "Are you okay? Did I break anything? I'd hate to see a brave young man lose the contents of his package so quickly..." She grins, and pulls her hand away with a sudden snap of her fingers. From the shadows behind her tottering band of ne'erdowells, a small, four-legged figure bounds into view.
"I should learn to control myself, mais non?" Rejoins the piratess with a curved brow, pulling her hand back and letting a fingertip tug upon her bottom lip, then fall with a careless lack of ceremony to the midpoint of rolling cleavage. It lingers just an instant long enough to draw the eye before drifting down and sidelong, in time to meet the shut jaws of the small black-and-white mongrel bounding rapidly to her side. She slips the proferred package out with deft, gentle dexterity.
Keeping it, quite notably, juuuust out of easy reach.
"My," she says with a blink, baby blues seeking Kensou's gaze wide and alluring, "It's... larger than I expected. No wonder you couldn't keep hold of it; I think I'll need both hands!"
Slosh, slosh goes her conscience; the bottle of rum at her side.
This was becoming WELL past the Psycho Soldier's threshold of shame.
Looking around on the ground, Kensou keeps looking away from the womans, ah, figure. Kensou was VERY embarrassed by the presence of the young woman. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable around girls. It was the fact that this woman was very drunk and wearing very little clothing. Kensou was pretty sure an indecent man would take advantage of this situation. Thinking hard about all the things an indecent man would be doing right now, he spies his package some ways away. Lowering down, he tries to dive on the package instinctively.
But then the dog steals it away.
Kensou crawls after the dog, trying to chase after it cautiously. Moving along on all fours, he makes kissing sounds, whistling for the doggie. "Come on! Mya Mya! Come on puppy, give Kensou back his... gah!" Kensou walks right into the woman's legs. Sitting up and rubbing his head, he looks back up.... and turns an even brighter shade of crimson. Looking back down at her heels, Kensou crosses his legs. As she teases the young martial artist, he trembles a bit. "I don't let just anybody handle my package, ma'am!" Kensou sputters and spits, face turning purple. Slooooooowly casting his gaze up those long legs, he works his way up towards the woman's eyes, swallowing hard along the way. As he finally reaches the pair, he meekly replies.
"And I'd prefer to hold my own package, thank you very much!"
Shame isn't something Bonne Jenet appears to be particularly well acquainted with. As Kensou's eyes creep up her legs she just stands there, all dangerous pouting and perilously wide eyes until he reaches the crown of her curvaceous frame. Her smile melts like honey on warm toast, spreading sweetly in tandem with the easing of her gaze. For a moment she looks so utterly compassionate that nobody could possibly have a fear in the world...
And then she leans forward, forward, forward, that generous chest coming within a quarter-inch of the Psycho Soldier. There's just the faintest brushing of the material of her dress against his shirt, the tease of contact promised further by her finely-formed features as they shift into warm, inviting query.
At his midriff, the package crinkles as she eases it forward. Offering it so kindly he might just be tempted; but he'll have to contend with the bootylicious pirate captain's bodacious body, the line of his arm sure to feel pert, soft flesh.
"If you want something," she chimes, in a voice to outclass any girl-next-door who ever awakened pubescent lust in an unwitting boy, lovely yet carrying the husky, brooding undertone of sexuality held barely in check. At least until it begins to spill forth, her sentence finished with almost the makings of a grunt compelling it, a hard directness of purpose resonating in the otherwise dulcet tone. "Reach out and take it. I won't resist."
Oh gosh this was EXACTLY like that dream.
Kensou's face immediately turns white. This was exactly like the dream. Where Kensou is coming back home from a long day of fighting, and Athena is there! But it wasn't Athena in any of her normal outfits. Athena was essentially wearing the same thing that Bonne was wearing! And making the same face that Bonne was making. And then she goes and says the exact same thing that Bonne says! With those half-lidded eyes, her hands running across her body. "Reach out and take it."
"I won't resist."
What an amazing dream, as the martial artist's eyes begin to drift off into infinity. In the dream, Kensou, looking over the stunning form of Athena, as his love of his life was willing to give him everything that he ever desired in a single, passionate explosion. Kensou would then sweep Athena up into his arms, holding her with such passion, such power. As Athena would moan, Kensou would give her the most passionate of kisses, the most powerful, as Athena's body almost melts into his own arms as her top began to grow loose....
And then Momoko woke him up by jumping in the bed.
That was NOT a good day.
Kensou's jaw goes slack, jaw trembling as this suddenly goes exactly how he hoped it wouldn't go. Here he was, in the mauve distract of town, with his secret package. And suddenly there was a freudian dream right there. Eyes going crossed as he looks right into the chest, the same boyish eyes snap right back up to Bonne's own. Another swallow comes as he stands up again, bumping his head briefly on the bustline. And then, he adjusts his waist band a bit.
And returns to crouching down.
"I. Uh." He stammers, carefully reaching out with his hand towards the package.... and recoiling his hand. "Think. I could. Take. you. From you. Not take you. From you. Take nothing strange from you!" Kensou swallows hard, puffing out his cheeks as he stares at those heaving chests. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to cross his legs while crouching, thinking of the least sexy thoughts he could muster. Finally, he nearly shouts out loud, for the whole street to hear.
"Could you pl-please give it to me?!"
Bonne Jenet doesn't daydream; or even nightdream! She's far too focused on forging her life into a chaotic fantasy of daring-do swashbuckling to rival any of her wildest childhood longings. For her, *life* is the dream - and sleep is what happens when you can't take the excitement any more and pass out in a snoring heap beneath the rum keg, dressed only in your crossbones panties.
Which--... isn't to say her mind doesn't wander.
Her salacious composure is broken with a blink once Kensou comes out of his revery, a momentary double-take seeing a crack in her facade. She almost laughs because of it, betraying the pantomime, but is swift to turn it into a further teasing smile, broad slash of a mouth promising darker pleasures as it smears suggestively up into a rum-rosy cheek. Then, he's falling to his knees. Ah~!
Pausing to dart an encouragingly playful backward glance to her piratical collective, and garnering as she does a rugged undercurrent of chuckles, jeers and perhaps the occasional drunken hiccup, Jenet considers the situation and promptly decides upon the most suitable course of action. Turning back around with a bold swish of her head, long blonde hair tumbling across her bare shoulders, the Pirate Queen presents Kensou with a favourable smile and then lifts one long, unfairly shapely leg.
The soft folds of her dress fall away to either side, a crinkle in the material presenting the Psycho Soldier with a teasing wink from that bold crossbones motif - an incident likely to be swiftly forgotten in the sensation that follows. One moment a creamy thigh is visible, and the next the tip of a booty-bustingly expensive Prada heel finds the boy's sternum.
"Since you asked," she smoulders, "So nicely..."
And then she's pushing him abruptly backward, her weight less an issue than the sheer dominance of the gesture; physically compelling as much as emotionally, her commanding presence doing precisely that. He isn't *allowed* to resist. That would be wrong. That would be very, very naughty. He would be punished.
As quickly as he finds himself upon his back, she's moving in a swish of fabric and a contraction of perfectly-toned muscles to set herself upon the surface of the street beside him, her peachlike posterior set with such dainty aplomb as it were upon a velvet cushion, and then she's reclining with a sigh. Rum-drenched breath washes over the boy from proximity, the retained bottle finding the paving aside his right shoulder as she loops a slender arm behind his head. Still half-bulging out of her dress, she regards him with a gaze that's so wicked as to be conspiratorial, slipping the desired package across her own midriff and presenting it toward him in what transpires...
To be an ironclad grip. It might as well be welded to her.
"I'll give it to you, little boy," she promises, curling her painted lips around each syllable, back arching just enough to suggest the rigours of a two-backed beast. Just enough to push her chest an inch or so further into the mauve glow of the streetlights. "Just as soon as you tell me--"
She suddenly grins, her nose wrinkling as she looks down at the package, gripping it more tightly still. As though she means to take ownership if the answer is sufficiently tantalizing.
"What, exactement, you're so very worried about holding onto. Do you think it would hurt, hmm? To lose it?"
*SNAP*
All it takes is a single flash of the delicate garment. Kensou is struck with what seems like the force of a baseball bat right up the skull. Eyes goes cross, and jaw falls totally slack. Suddenly, Kensou finds thinking about Chin's Franken-hooker costume from Halloween not to be very effective in stopping the raging... distraction he is having in his trousers. As the lady brings a high-heel around, the boy just stares at it with crossed eyes as it pushes into his chest.
He doesn't even resist.
A completely goofy grin overcomes Kensou's face as he is forced to the ground. Bringing his hands up like a helpless puppy showing his belly, he trembles a bit. He was drunk on everything this very nice lady was going do him. Kensou nearly forgot why he was in this city; nearly forgot about the woman he left behind. The teenage hormones was ruling the vestiges of his mind. His eyes roll to the back of his head, as a small trail of drool trickles from the corner of his mouth.
And then she asks about the contents of the package.
The Psycho Soldier snaps out of his lust-drunk haze. Face suddenly tightening to a wide-eyed stare, he swallows hard as he glances nervously towards the package. Gingerly, he delicately pinches a pair of fingers on the heel of the shoe, attempting to pull it off him as he tries to explain. "L-l-lose it? Oh, n-no!" He suddenly gets a return of his resolve. "I will never let you take from me! My most precious thing! If I lose it now, I'll never get back!"
"Especially when I am saving my package for someone special to me!"
The heel is removed, slipping away so subtly that Kensou might not notice were he not grasping for it; though it's rapidly replaced by that same thigh, a flash of dark garter the only break in a sumptuous treat of creamy as it once more breaches the daring fabric of her dress to fall across his body, effectively pinning him. Whether he'd be able to move or not.
His protests meet the high upward curve of a groomed eyebrow, the grin slipping away and the beautiful piratess' head slipping slowly to one side in curious query. Like so many boys, the Psycho Soldier wears his emotions so plain as to be hidden in plain sight-- the intricacies of their fuller story lost in uncertain stammering and the damp sweat of pained puberty.
"Ah, mon petit," the English Rose murmurs at last with a theatrical hint of sadness promptly descending, her cheeks puffing rather adorably outward as she huffs a pout and suddenly removes her fingers from the package. It falls to Kensou's stomach and wobbles to and fro before coming to a rest, a half-inch from the tip of Jenet's knee; her leg still upon him. If anything she makes herself even more comfortable, going so far as to rest her head upon her chest, flanking the paper-bound object of his desire. Forcing him, really, to make a choice...
Can its contents really be better than this gorgeous, rum-soaked Queen of the Seven Seas?
"If you want it so badly, of course you must have it."
Nuzzling into the upper curve of his pectorals - and my, he must certainly work out, notes the piratess inwardly - Jenet offers him full access to the silken disarray of her blonde locks, a hint of mango shampoo washing up into his nostrils along with the cloying, dizzy scent of her night's libations.
"But, perhaps, you would do me one little favour, non?"
The question hangs there, dangerously loaded, the sniggerings of her nearby crew having no effect upon the woman's near-supine posture or the delicate, fragile feminity that has descended upon her; the tigress become a lost kitten, her claws concealed.
"Of course," her lips move against his body when she speaks, the intimacy of her tone further heightened by the spark of contact. The promise of more. "If you tell me to go away, if you can't spare the time... I'll understand, mon petit soldat..."
Wait, what did she just call him?
Kensou has no idea why he did not suffer a petite mort so far.
As the heel turns into a full leg, Kensou's eyes roll back up, as he lets out a shuddering sigh. But it seemed that this pleasure cruise was almost over for the martial artist. Looking just a bit smug, he seems to be content by just seizing his package as it rest against her thigh. "I don't think.... well, I would prefer just to have my package again! And my soldat is not petite, thank you very much!" He states arrogantly, as he reaches out with both hands to take the package.
And he misses.
Kensou's hand tightly squeeze the woman's leg. Face burning hot, he recoils his hands in shame. "Aspiztal." He sputters, before swallowing, and repeating himself. "Aspit. Aaaaagh. Aaaaaaw. I'm s-s-so sorry! I didn't mean to! I'll just, I'll just take it!" Kensou reaches out again for the package, to take it back.
And he misses.
"I'msorrythisneverhappenstomeIswear!" The teenager nearly screams breathlessly as he draws his hands away, as if he touched a hot stove. Panicking, he keeps reaching out, and he keeps missing. Faster and faster he attempts to grab the package, constantly failing as he begins to simply honk the low-hanging fruit. Face growing from bright crimson into a shade of green, Kensou looks like he is about to cry. Finally, he just gives up trying to take his package back. Arms going limp, he just looks into the woman's beautiful eyes, bottom lip trembling. :ooking like he was practically steaming as he meekly utters out.
"I-I-I think I m-m-might be able to d-d-do you ma-ma-ma'am!"
Kensou pauses blankly.
"I MEANT DO SOMETHING FOR YOU!"
By contrast to Kensou's furious, white-hot shame and guilt, the woman wrapped so languidly around him is a calm if dangerously deep and well-inhabited ocean. The tenderness of her flesh yields to the firm cording of toned muscle beneath, but Jenet herself betrays nothing, remaining in place atop his chest, her face shielded from his frantic stare by the positioning of her neck and the sweep of her mango-scented hair...
He certainly can't see the smugly patient little smile she wears.
At least initially, her spine curving inward once he's embarassed himself quite long enough and begun to merely mash at the softer, more tender curves presented for the dubious enjoyment of his desperately-groping hands. The bottle-bearing hand sweeps up and backward, the sloshing contents not spilling one drop as she parts the hair over one shoulder and sets those dazzling baby blues upon the boy's flushed, sweating face.
A brow lifts once more, as if asking - quite pleasantly, mind you - 'are you done?'
The query softens to a smile of the deepest, most heartfelt sympathy once his pain becomes so (deliciously) clear to her beholding gaze. She looks as if she could hug him, or even - oh dear, is she...? Dipping toward his fevered expression, full lips part in another head-pounding deliverance of delirious rum-fumes, one final promise made of the sweet, desirable contact to come--
Before she pulls away, free hand slapping with good cheer upon the Psycho Soldier's butterfly-packed stomach. Sitting up, drawing her thigh from his lower body and shifting to a kneeling position, she completes a graceful, fluid rise to her feet with a smile that's devoid of teasing, brooding sexuality and now simply as brightly cheerful as that she bore before their meeting.
"Magnifique!" Declares the Pirate Queen, raising her bottle of rum in a happy toast to Kensou - the package left upon his stomach in easy reach, no strings apparently attached. "Then let us begin with introductions, lest we remain as strangers; I," she flourishes a bow, arms out to either side and gaze never leaving the stricken boy's own. She keeps speaking as she remains down, dragging the gesture out and offering one particularly lingering view directly down the length of her command deck. "Am Captain Bonne Jenet, of the Lilien Knights. And you--"
She stops, draws herself upward and clucks her tongue.
"Ah non, please forgive me. You must introduce yourself, of course!"
She waits expectantly, as if it were so easy to shift back into a perfectly civil conversation.
Kensou was spent from all this trouble his package has caused.
Burned out from all the raw sexuality, he was simply exausted. Weakly looking up at the woman, he turns up his face. And yet, it seems like he was NOT going to get laid. Which is good! Right? Then why was he so sad! Typical teenage boy problems. As she recoils away just a bit, Kensou realizes that she was not actually teasing him about the package. Looking down away at it resting on his belly, he sighs in relief.
He is so happy to see his package tied up with string!
Jenet gives away her introductions, arcing a surprise brow from the boy. Not 'oh god how can rape feel so good' kind of surprise. More like 'oh, these corn flakes are actually frosted flakes' kind of surprised. Softly, he pumps up his spirit as he replies. "Oh.... I'm Sie Kensou,of the Psycho Soldiers!" Kensou pause a moment, considering. So she was NOT a hooker. This was a surprise for him. Without thinking of the horrible consequences of the matter, he asks the worst question he could possibly muster.
"So you are actually a cosplayer?"
"You are!" Comes the enigmatically-chirpy reply from the piratess as Kensou announces himself in turn. It's perhaps not that unusual for the Psycho Soldier to simply be recognized, but... she's hardly the type to buy Athena's records, let alone know the names and identities of her backing band. And professional fighting? A prominent display of lithe, feminine musculature notwithstanding, Bonne Jenet hardly looks like a martial artist.
Or even somebody who'd be into that. If she watches television at all, she's probably giggling drunkenly at Gay Rabbit or vegging out to a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon.
The concept of 'cosplay' seems equally beyond her, to judge by the utterly nonplussed look she levels upon Kensou at the culmination of his perhaps-offensive question. Her free hand lifts to the back of her head, scritching up a silken wave of dirty blonde as her head gradually tilts to one side. "Uh..."
Which is the moment one of her beshadowed crew members decides to step forward, a short and distinctly unthreatening-looking young man with golden curls of hair beneath a piratical bandanna, his striped shirt and clean white sailor's pants not exactly helping the impression that he's a wet-behind-the-ears mama's boy. Nor does his voice, when it seems perhaps his own package has yet to be delivered; it's very high-pitched, and a tad wavering.
"Cap'n, he's talking about the common practice of--"
"*Mister* Fauntleroy!" Jenet abruptly barks, somehow making a snapped order sound like an invitation to hop into the tub for a bubbly soak as she turns upon her heel and snaps out her hand, bangles a-jangle. "I know perfectly well what cosplaying *is*, I'm merely-- ah," she turns back to Kensou, smiling perhaps a little too warmly, "Simply don't understand how you assume I'm anything but the plundering, pillaging scalliwag I quite clearly am. You've not heard of Captain Jenet and her fearsome crew?"
She blinks, waiting expectantly for just a beat, not giving him time to reply before she spins about for a third time, presenting him with her back - that's also very shapely, incidentally, seldom has a back been so aesthetically pleasing to man or boy - as she holds both arms out, bangles jangling and rum sloshing, her head turned up to the moonlit sky above Sunshine.
"Terrors of the waves, saviours among scurvy thieves, the greatest pirates ever to travel in class and style beneath the ocean's swell! Ah, mon petit, but you are young, oui?" Glancing back over her shoulder, she spares a swift wink of a baby blue, and a toothy, lopsided grin, "You need more... experience. So we come, as we always would, to my little proposition."
Ahem. She clears her throat, completing her latest turn with a refreshing swig of rum taken before her arms loop about her midriff, perhaps by no particular accident pushing pert mounds even more scandalously against purple fabric.
"I need your talents. I need someone who can sniff out a villain with the power of their mind! Sie Kensou, mon petit soldat, I need someone like *you*. I need you..." That smile is back, as she takes a theatrically coy step forward, a forearm lifting to trail a painted fingertip toward him, curling invitingly.
"So very much."
Oh god other people.
Kensou's eyes go wide as the young boy suddenly shows up. Having been taken in by the whole of Bonne Jenet, he didn't even consider that she had an entourage. "How much did they hear-" He begins to ask. But Jenet continues to be a queen bee, striking down the lesser minion with just a bit of haughty ton. "I've never-" He begins, but is interrupted as Jenet HAS To continue to show off. She really likes being in the center of attention! The Psycho Soldier is finally, and notably, uncomfortably asked about whether he had heard about the pirates. Brightly, he chirps back as if it will impress her.
"I've never heard of your pirate crew" like that!"
Kensou nods along dully as he clutches his package tightly again. "You must be very good pirates if I haven't heard of you! Just like ninjas!" Kensou nods along. "And I guess Ninjas and pirates are pretty similar too!" As she swishes back the rum, Kensou turns up his nose. Very easily, Sie sits back upright, eyes casting on jibblies briefly before staring at the pirate queen. The gears in his head turn, before his eyes go wide. It suddenly makes sense, as his face blushes red.
"Are you asking me to join your crew, Miss Jenet?"
There's an element of nervous shifting from behind the Pirate Queen as Kensou aptly compares them to one of their greatest enemies, though one figure - standing just a tiny bit apart from the rest - appears to rather smugly fold its arms. There's a timely flash of light as a nearby storefront door opens and spills the ray of a halogen bulb onto a sliver of live steel. Live, Japanese steel. Ninjas and pirates oh my!
Jenet herself merely rolls a tattooed shoulder and gives up an upward flicker of baby blue eyes. Either she's got no particular opinion on the subject, or would rather keep it to herself.
When a second lightbulb goes off in the head of the Psycho Soldier, she smiles all the wider, pausing to take another swig of exceedingly rare and expensive rum before wiping her mouth. The smile remains steadfastly unwiped, the dimples in her cheeks merely flushed a little by the hit of sumptuous, sugary booze.
"Exactement," she confirms in a bright murmur, the previous beckoning hand forming into a pistol (a flintlock, natch) and firing off an invisible, congratulatory bullet at Kensou. A shot through the heart. "On a purely contractual basis, of course," she hastily amends, stepping forward to twine her arm around him, gesturing with the bottle of rum toward her shaded crew and further-- to the horizon beyond the mauve light district. "A grand adventure awaits, mon petit, if you're bold enough to seize it! But I'm a fair and even hand to my crew..."
Tailing off with a rather defensive little pout, pre-empting a doubt or a question from the teenage psychic, she shifts her gaze sidelong and lowers her gesturing hand to rest suggestively upon his chest.
"I'll let you lay your hands on all the booty you can hold!"
A shot through the heart.....
But she was too late.
Kensou looks at the other pirates warily as he stands back up. Only cosplayers would think that pirates and ninjas were rivals. Kensou was from china! Chinese Ninja Pirates were the norm! Honest! However, Kensou was now worried about Jenet. She was..... drunk. On rum. Kensou didn't know a lot of things. But there was one thing he knew.
Drunk blondes were easy!
No.
Kensou meant that drunk girls could be foolish.
As she offers the whole of her booty to Kensou, the Psycho Soldier ultimately shakes his head, raising up a palm. "I am very f-f-f-flattered!" He stammers, trying to put on a mask of not aroused. With a hand on his chest, he delicately lifts it off him. Swallowing hard, he explains. "But I can't join you! While I am sure your booty, um, um, would be worth it." He flinches. "My heart is to the Psycho Solders; especially the kind of booty that they can provide me." Kensou thinks a moment about Momoko- Athena. He thinks of Athean not Momoko. He would NEVER try and think of Momoko in that way, at least until she grows out of it.
I mean, why doesn't MOmoko have a build like this pirate!?
Because she doesn't drink her rum and milk.
Scientists will ponder forever the relationship between a Pirate Queen's bountiful booty and the application of copious rum and coconuts, but Bonne Jenet is certain of this much; rum is good for the heart, and milk is great for the body. Putting the two together... well, it could be just the cure that young Momoko needs. If only she could read minds. If only she was psychic.
As it is, she's rather surprised to find the hand removed from Kensou's chest, for the first time caught off-guard for more than a fleeting instant as she blinks and glances down at her long, dextrous digits. Flexing them experimentally, she looks to Kensou's chest, and then back up to his face.
There's a moment in time when her face flickers between a variety of emotions. Is she angry? Is she about to start teasing him again? Is she about to tear up? An eccentric actress high on tropical fumes and fermented sugar can be a difficult manner of person to read; in Jenet's case, for a few seconds it's nigh-on impossible, until she takes a swaying step away from Kensou.
Toward her crew she steps, coming to a halt with blonde hair swept back across her shoulder, rose tattoo clearly visible and baby blues alight with a brightly burning inner fire.
"I think I understand," she says with astonishing softness, not least because there's no undercurrent of anything *else*. "Mon petit's heart belongs to another cause. Golden treasure is not what you seek; nor the rolling spirit of the endless oceans. Perhaps, instead," she breathes a regretful sigh, tapping one Prada heel gently upon the ground and looking up toward the moon. "You'd accept a favour from a woman who understands her kind."
An eyebrow arches as she looks back down with a small, hopeful smile.
"If you help me, mon petit, I may help you, oui?"
Perhaps rum WAS the secret to giant gonazas.
As he briefly considers how he could help Momoko by filling her with rum, he briefly is distracted from Bonne Jenet as he imagines Momoko trying to dance around and fight with Jenet's chest flying around. It takes two words to shove him back into reality. "Golden treasure?" Kensou blurts out, tilts his head aside, looking confused. He thinks. He considers. And suddenly his eyes bug out wide.
"OH! BOOTY!"
"That kind of BOOTY! Hahahaha!" Kensou scratches the back of his head, laughing nervously. "I thought, well, with the thighs, and the skull panties, and, erm." Kensou turns bright red again. "Well, I am pretty sure that you and Athena share the same psyche! I am absolutely certain that you-"
"I DID NOT SAY ATHENA!"
The teenager covers his mouth. "I MEAN MY SPECIAL SOMEONE. NONE OF YOU HEARD ME USE A REAL NAME, RIGHT? RIGHT!!?!?!"
Kensou shakes his fist threateningly at the crew.
"But before I agree!" Kensou begins as he hugs his package close and erect. The teenager puffs out his cheeks a bit, still sore about letting the Athena out of the bag! Turning his head up, he looks down at Jenet.... despite "I think you've been sending me mixed message." Kensou looks to the right temple of his head, deep in thought. "Like, I keep getting the idea that you want to do sexy things with me! But I am really doubting that you really meant that! I just want to get on the right level with you! And why have you been using French words with a British accent!"
Kensou pauses for a moment.
"Are you supposed to be playing a French Pirate?"
"AYE!"
The cry goes up at the word 'booty'; but not from Jenet herself, rather a raucous and rather mashed-up simultaneous yell from the Lilien Knights arrayed behind her. There's the squeaky voice of Mister Fauntleroy, some upper-crust English along with the rougher variety, at least one distinctly Asian accent, and is that Welsh? Though predominantly British, this curious band clearly don't share *much* in the way of common ancestry. The little doggie joins in too, of course, though it's more a 'yip!'
"BOOTY!" ('yipyip!')
The Pirate Queen merely looks rather pleased, slinging slender arms about her midriff once more with a combination jangle and slosh. Watching Kensou stumble his way to revelation is a rewarding experience; she doesn't judge him *stupid* so much as very single-minded. When he's able to stay on the path he seems to get there just fine. It's when she-- ah, no...
Visibly holding herself back from some wicked temptation, Cap'n Bonne clears her throat just as the Psycho Soldier reaches a new fever pitch, blurting out the name that she wouldn't possibly have guessed given a little more time with him. His subtleties well sunk, she nonetheless doesn't particularly show a reaction beyond mild surprise, slowly batting baby blues as she restores her pleasant smile. A smile that soon enough freezes.
"Moi?" She asks finally, "Mixed messages? You *are* young, mon petit." Laughter ringing through her tone and gleaming in her eyes, the piratess slinks forward without unfolding her arms, leaning forward a little to once more present her bust, batting her eyes rather more insidiously than moments prior. "An attractive young man like you, out alone in the dark, is it so bad for an unattached, lonely woman to make a move? Mais..."
The syllable hangs there as she sways backward and reaches up to touch her bottom lip thoughtfully, pulling at it just a little as she seems to consider the question more seriously.
"Non, I confess, I wanted only to see the contents of your package. Curiousity," she flicks out a bold, devil-may-care grin, "Is one of my very few flaws. Along with, I confess, the need for showmanship; it's a pirate's way, mon petit, to adopt mannerisms that make a rival quake in their boots - to be distinctive, that they never forget the drubbing you hand them!"
She whips her arm outward, cutting a sharp swish through the air like the lashing blade of a rapier, briefly gaining an intensity that heretofore has at best been brewing beneath the surface. It fades quickly, pleasantly slinking back in as the rum-sozzled woman shrugs her shoulder and refolds her arm.
"But I can be plain, if it pleases you. All I really want is fresh, glistening booty, and the means to obtain it. I'm like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to--" She hesitates, briefly considering what she's just said and finishing with a bright laugh, "Well, myself. But the rich are rarely deserving, and *this* wealthy devil I assure you could do with a blackened eye and a smoking hole in his poop deck. So, are you in?"
Kensou JUMPS with the Ayes come.
"Ah wow okay!" He exclaims, stumbling back. Of course, then the lash of energy comes. Keeping clear, Kensou doesn't seem sure. On one hand, she was suspicious. On the other hand she was cute. And maybe she can help Kensou and Athena work out their relationship troubles. That's what women like Bonne are good at! As she mentions the glistening booty, Kensou has to repeat out loud. "Treasure, she means honey pot, I mean she means golden treasure...." Swallowing hard, he finally toughens up just a bit, as his face goes red.
"What I have in my package is my own business, and a pair of plump thighs and pretty lips won't make it come out!"
Kensou's face turns less red. "But.... I guess.... maybe if it will help me with my romance.... My bad romance!" Kensou pumps a fist. "Then I am willing to do whatever I can to ensure my Athena will fall in love with me and my package." Kensou begins to get teary-eyed, embracing his package nearly to his face. And immediately, he begins to flail about, stomping madly, gripping the package with one hand.
"OH CRUD I SAID IT AGAIN!"
Bonne Jenet didn't hear a thing, really! Though if this ends up in court some weeks or months down the line, she'll stick to her large and shapely cannons regarding the very definite 'yes' that got lost in there somewhere. After all, once agreement is obtained, a person is bound by the most important and probably-legal law of them all; pirate law. It's to this very end that she gives a rousing cheer and sashays forward, letting slip a flash of creamy thigh in no way designed to distract Kensou for long enough to grab his hand and pump it vigorously.
Hopefully he doesn't fumble his package while she does that.
"It's a deal, mon petit!" She brightly chirps, all smiles and glinting blue eyes as she pulls her hand away and drapes it about Kensou's shoulders, steering him toward her waiting crew who part to allow the pair to pass through their midst. "I promise not to touch your package, and do whatever I can to help you win your fair and mysterious lass' heart, just as soon as we've got the booty and my honey pot is full and moist!"
Wait, what was that part? It's out there before anybody can blink, and then the crew falls about with piratical jubilance, all 'ahoys' and 'arrrrr!' in loud and boisterous measure, sweeping the Pirate Queen and her newfound cabin boy on a wave of adventure and Old Abobo's finest. As they move off through the mauve light district, one last clarion call becomes clear above the general cacophony - the rallying cheer of pirates everywhere.
"Gentlemen! More rum!"
"ARRRRRRRRR!!!" ('yipyipyipyip!!!')
This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
B.Jenet shouldn't have aggitated his package like that!
As Jenet exposes her thigh to the teenage boy, it fumbles a bit. Kensou's package spills out a little bit, poking out of the wrapping as everyone begins to cheer. Turning bright red, he covers the exposed tip of the package... just keeping the contents out of sight. He wasn't sure WHAT he got himself into. But maybe.... maybe this wasn't going to end up as a complete embarassment? Kensou smiles sheepishly. "Um, more rum? I guess? Not too much though!" Kensou thrusts a free hand in the air. "This is the start of a beautiful new friendship!"
"A friendship with all the benefits!"
Log created on 00:07:33 06/07/2013 by Kensou, and last modified on 00:51:55 06/08/2013.