COPYCAT | Asimov

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  • ""

    There were alot of things Champagne could say she regretted. Sleeping with Ivan, sleeping with Summersend, sleeping with Elysium, sleeping with Dee...mostly sleeping with people. It was, arguably, what she was kind of good at, being in a position where people used her body for stress relief, it was only right she used the people around her for the same thing, right? Perhaps that argument could be held up if it wasn't for her current situation she woke up to that morning, exhausted, hung over, and very much not alone.

    Perhaps it had been that last glass of whiskey before she went to bed that had been a tipping point for her slow, angry simmer of emotions, or perhaps it was she displacing her own daddy issues onto Asimov when she had later swayed herself to wherever the ex-godfather had been after his tense welcoming, or maybe it had been Morphy's words that had struck a nerve, reminding her as she stared at the crimson kitsune of his sister who did a similar thing to her own children, but either way, it hadn't been pretty. Starting out icy, cold, she had berated him for leaving Dee and his family, his clan he supposedly cared so much about, her family's passive-aggressive nature taking hold of her, her petty grudge holding, but it quickly devolved into her very straight-forwardly insulting him-she's pretty sure somewhere in her teary-eyed yelling she called him either Troubledlove or Kaia, maybe both, she can't recall too clearly-and crying at him messily, hitting the larger man with sheathed paws, angrily throwing pillows and other things around in her little tantrum, her memory of his own responses blurred, might aswell nonexistant but she knew he had responded accordingly. And as all things, her emotions had crescendoed and crashed until they both stood near eachother, breathless, tense, and, well... one thing led to another and now she had woken up, hungover in her own bed in Asimov's arms.

    After stewing some more as the memories flooded back, angrily, she let out a quiet, wordless shout, grabbing a pillow to hit him in the head, teeth bared as she held the pillow. Her claws tore the silk sheet that encased it and even the pillow itself, the feathers fluffing out as she lashed her tail, the vampiress hissing angrily, "I can't believe you! Fuck-!" Even though her anger had returned, she shook, mind racing, panicky, as she thought feverishly about Dee. This would devastate him. She remembered how Dee had responded when Asimov left, his cries that all men were the same, words that echoed her own when she had been interested in a handful of boys when she first joined, and now, here she was, sleeping with her best-friend's ex boyfriend! Good job, Champagne! You really earned your place as fucking host capo, huh?! "Wake up!" She snapped, the panic lacing into her voice as her muscles tense to slap him with the pillow again, very set on chasing the ex-godfather out of her bed, out of her room.

    // ASIMOV hehehehe


  • " — Unlike Champagne, Asimov's thoughts weren't very complicated on the matter. It was obvious to him that Dee was not rushing into his arms, and why should he wear a chastity belt if Dee wasn't going to sleep with him right now? He still loved Dee, of course, but it wasn't in Asimov's nature to remain celibate when he was single, even if he had eyes on another prize. He was stupid and a man- that sort of thing came with the territory.

    He was awoken by Champagne slapping a pillow against his face, and he moved his paws to cover his head defensively. "Ugghhh, what," He groaned out, a little hungover and a lot tired. He sat up, then, pawing at his eyes. "C'mon, babe, it's too early to bring out the crazy shit, let's just drink a little-" Then he realized it was Champagne he had slept with, and he was almost proud of himself. Yet, a pit formed in his stomach. Fuck. Maybe I should not have done this. It crossed his mind for a second, but the fact that he got laid with honestly one of the prettiest people in the Cartel sort of out-weighted the "hey maybe I should stop sleeping with literally everyone in this god forsaken clan."

    He snickered. "Last night was fun. You should charge for that shit. Oh wait, you do," He said with a sly grin, not really moving from the bed. "So, like, what's the plan? We can just like, not talk about this ever. I'm good at keeping secrets."

  • ""

    His jokes only made her angrier, fake laughing as she spoke, venomous and mean, "Oh ha ha ha! You're lucky I don't take all the damn gold and shit you took when you left for compensation!" She aimed to punctuate each laugh with a pillow slap, not aiming to actually hurt him-it was a pillow, how hard can she hit him anyway?-but to atleast get him out of her bed, her nose wrinkled in an angry snarl. If successful in driving out of her bed and onto the floor-or not, who cares?-she would glare at him angrily, hugging her pillow to her as she sat in brewing, pouty silence, ears flatted like little air-plane wings-little would be an understatement considering she's a savannah cat-as she thought.

    She sighed in exasperation at his other words, sarcasm dripping from her words, "No shit we're never talking about this again! This would destroy Dee, oh my fucking-" The thought of Dee made her slam her face into her pillow and scream her frustration into it momentarily. Okay, maybe she was being overdramatic about this, afterall it really wasn't above her sleeping with her former bosses-she had with Dee, just not in the same form she usually took-but in her defense, this was also her ex-boss's ex-boyfriend, the godfather of her children, and one of the biggest whores of the Cartel! To her, she had royally fucked up.

    Once she screamed her throat raw into the pillow, she lifted her head and sat the pillow down, grabbing one of her cigarettes and lighting it with a match, paws shaking a little in her anxiety and adrenaline as she took a long drag, grumbling under her breath. Finally, she spoke, exhaling the puff of smoke through her nose, "The plan is this. You will sneak out of my room through the window soon-if you fall, I never saw you, you were being a creep on the roof for some reason-and we will never mention this, think of this, or ever acknowledge it happened, and it will never happen again. The bullshit you know about me now? You don't, got it?" She didn't even bother telling him what would happen if he told someone, afterall, her poison knowledge and ability to make him suffer should suffice as a threat enough, but either way, she didn't care. This was never leaving her room.

    But, honestly, the likely-hood of it never happening again was slim. She was a weak spirit, she knew, but saying it made her feel better, honestly.