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It wasn't a normal event that brought her to New York, New York. A normal event would have her in heavy kevlar, and hauling around enough heat to run a gang war. Not to mention it being completely legal, thanks to the laws protecting so-called private contractors. On this fair night, she was to meet a friend. At night, she had no clue why. If he wanted to scare her, it wasn't like he had to try too hard. Not only was he a giant, he could also disappear into thin air. Ayraen was her best friend, better brother than her brother, and completely uninterested in her in a romantic way. This was how she found herself slapping the door to a rental Taurus shut. Hands on her hips, she gave the white car a hard stare, as though daring it to make someone think her a parent. She locked the Taurus, checked all the doors, and then left the demonic parent mobile alone to walk across Central Park, at night, without having a clue as to where she should go. It was only made worse by the black miniskirt that showed everything but the color of her undergarments, the black and red halter top that while exposed no cleavage did nothing to hide the fact she was a pretty young woman, with the overly practical black combat boots clashing with the entire display. A bare inch of her stomach was exposed. Ayraen had picked out the outfit for her when they had last spent a real amount of time with each other. He had also tried to get her into a corset, which she ended up purchasing anyways, but didn't see herself wearing it, except in front of a lover or him. He really didn't mind when she displayed that she was, in fact, female. He had also made her learn how to walk with a feminine roll of the hips, which she demonstrated as she strolled through the park at night. Charcolate dared anyone observing her from the shadows to grab her, for they would be handling quite a bit more than harmless young woman. She had learned quite a long time ago that scotch tape could easily hold a light weight, of say a switchblade or butterfly knife, to her without slowing any attempt at reclaiming it. Not to mention she was relatively experienced with hand to hand combat. It was unfortunate, of course, when out of the corner of her eyes a giant grabbed her and spun her around. Any other man who dared to grab her in such a manner would get a broken arm and a sexual harassment charge. "Ayraen...If you weren't gay, and my not-so-formally-adopted brother, I don't want to discuss how many pieces you'd be in." Char retorted, staring up at him. At times, she could hardly believe his sexual preference. Her hands returned to her hips and she gave him a mock glare. A smile broke that in short order, and she hugged him around the mid-torso, the only place on him she could really reach. Charlotte chuckled, and then withdrew. "I arrived safely, thanks for asking. Although, Hertz gave me a Taurus this time. I keep requesting the mustang. But off of the subject of your favorite mercenary, how are you doing, my jolly chameleon giant?" Charlotte inquired. She adjusted her skirt quickly, pulling it a little lower, and then adjusted the bosom of her halter top. The thing, she could have sworn, was not built to hold her. Ayraen really should have picked out something that didn't have such a threat of her falling out in an awkward manner, at least not as much in front of him. After all, he had no interest in her. |
