WELCOME

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

The best thing about being in fashion was the ability to wear what you designed. Most women would pay thousands of dollars for a romper, a skirt, a shirt, or shoes... Belle just grabbed them from the sample room. That was another perk of being her... she was sample size. When she roamed the halls of Chanel most people thought that she was a model rather than a rising designer. While that sounded much easier -honestly, who COULDN'T pout for the camera- Belle had some nasty scars riddling her body, scars that wouldn't do when it came to photographing or walking the runway. No, Belle was no model, but she did dress them.

The majority of the day had been spent pinning a bitchy woman into a dress... and Belle had merely rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to kill the woman with a swift squeeze. Instead, she had 'accidentally' stuck her with a pin. Of course, she had smirked after ever poke, and exchanged a glance with the other seamstress but that had been all. Models were annoying, but Belle could do nothing about it until she was promoted. Once promoted, THEN she could open her trap and tell off a bitch. Eventually, designers ruled the roost and models would grovel at a chance to be in your spread... but first you had to rule the roost.

Belle knew she could.

Her designs had been selected for the runway and the spread with a Mr. Julien Stone. Belle was rising, and rising fast. Nothing could stop her ascent and she didn't want to even think about stumbling. It was why she had refrained from calling back a certain Yakov Romanovich. He was fun, their game was still afoot, but she was not about to call him. He had been cross with her the last time they were in one another's company, her move -kicking him out of bed- had been a strong hand. His attempt to save face with sixty dollars had almost been cute.

As she walked out of Chanel's beautiful building she was flipping through her iphone, checking emails, twitter, and text messages. Most of it had to do with work, she needed to pick up photos tomorrow morning, needed to mail a few letters and bring in her sketches to her boss. Nothing too interesting. There were no calls from the mysterious Ivan, the man who had fallen from the sky and into her life, and nothing from the beautiful Yeva... her new friend. Yes friend, she had someone who knew her now, knew all of her names, Gem, Belle, Iryna... and it thrilled Belle to be so vulnerable. Yeva had control over her and she had not taken advantage... or even tried. A frown came to Belle's lips as she stood at the cross walk.

Now she wondered why... weren't friends supposed to call? If they cared about you, weren't you supposed to hear from them... Well, maybe Yeva wasn't a friend. Just a failed lay. Belle clicked her screen off and looked up, waiting from the cross walk to turn green.

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

Getting a woman like Iryna Ivanova out of his mind had proven to be damn near impossible for Yakov Romanovich. It certainly had not helped that he had done some snooping on her with the help of a hacker he knew and that he had received a text from her regarding the break in. Yes, wrapping his mind around this fascinating creature’s multiple identities, her past, and torturing James Donovan for damn near ten hours made it very difficult to get Iryna off of his mind. He now had a better understanding of her abilities and the kind of person she was. She was a liar.

She was also a designer at Chanel. ’Seamstress my ass…’ he mused as he leaned back in a bench outside of the building. She had not called him and he was not about to call her- but he needed to see her again, he needed her to know what he knew. He had only gone out with her one time- twice if you counted their dance in the old barber shop, he did not- and already he was breaking bones and making men who dared threaten her regret being born. Not that a Legends scumbag like Reboot did not deserve the beating he received regardless of his run-in with Iryna. Or was in Belle now? Belle Simon was an upstanding member of society who worked a regular job and paid her taxes, she had a dog and paid her bills with hard work and a can-do attitude. It was why she was a rising star in the world of fashion- which Yakov admittedly knew very little about and the more he read about it the more he wondered why people thought gangsters were such bad people. What was the difference between a model and a whore? Both were junkies (at least some of those models had to be) and both could be bought and sold so easily. Sometimes, Yakov wondered if he had been in the life for so long that the outside world just seemed too chaotic and foul to him. In the Russian underworld there were rules and things made perfect sense. The outside world had income tax and proper immigration- things Yakov knew very little about.

Yakov did not have to wait long before Iryna walked out of the building, looking down at her phone with a certain sadness on her beautiful face. ’Of course she’s sad- she’s a filthy lying whore of satan’ Yakov scoffed to himself as he stood up and approached her. She had lied to him about everything, about her name, her work…and he had been none the wiser until Piotr hacked into her computer, the immigration database, and managed to talk the Ukrainian orphanage she came from to fax her records. It had all come with a price, but once Yakov had ventured down the rabbit hole money became no object.

”Iryna Ivanova, what a pleasure it is to see you,” he greeted with a tight smile. ”Or should I call you ‘Belle Simon’, treasure? You’re been quite a naughty girl,” he continued darkly and caressed her cheek tenderly.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

Belle froze.

That voice wasn't supposed to be here, Yakov was not supposed to have followed here here. this was her job, this was her livelihood -well not really- but this was her effort to build something that looked like normalcy. Belle never had a chance to be normal before, now she did... and here Yakov was. The game was still afoot and he had just laid down four aces and a king. The bastard, there was not a way to trump this, no way at all. Her face wanted to fall, but she picked up her sad expression and forced a smirk.

"You found me," Belle said glancing up nonchalantly as she turned. Her heels clicked against the concrete and she pretended to be busy with her phone. No reason to give him all her attention, even as he caressed her cheek. "Ad you can call me either Yakov Romanovich, I go by both." He was a fool for thinking she had lied to him. She had been foolish and had been more honest with him than with any other man. Belle had never told a man her real name before, had never told a man she was from the Ukraine, that she was an orphan,

Belle clicked her phone off and pushed it into her purse. She tilted her head and watched him, her lips moving from a smirk into an rather insincere smile. "And just how have I been a bad girl? Only thing I've done is play with you, Yasha." She gripped his chin and kissed him. It wasn't a sweet kiss, not a tender kiss, nor a romantic one. It had a bite.

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

She was blowing him off- or at least trying to with the way she was focusing her attention on her phone rather than looking him in the eye. He had caught her off guard, she had not expected him to approach her in her "normal" life. Yakov was well aware that he was not much more than a monster who belonged in the shadows, it must have been unsettling to see him in the light of day and outside her place of work. She was trying to save face and he thought it was almost endearing, almost adorable. "Do you go by Frankenstein's monster as well?" he sneered and grabbed her by the chin roughly. He had read enough about her adopted father and seen her scars- Yakov could put two and two together. "I figured you were a super, but this...you're fascinating," he added, his tone of voice softening slightly as he looked at her in amazement. He figured she possessed super strength after their last meeting, and he supposed the hardness of her body was related to whatever sick things the mad scientist had done to her- but that was the extent of what he could figure out for himself.

For many years Yakov had never met another super, it was not until the Syndicate had approached him in the 1960s that he even considered that there might be others like himself out in the world. But someone who had not always been a super? He was familiar with IT and the beast Marrok, but to find another one...no wonder Viktor was so interested in the girl. "You think that because you are strong I cannot hurt you," he whispered into her ear. "You are playing a dangerous game, Iryna Ivanova," he smirked before pulling away and straightening his jacket. Her kiss had been rough and brought him back to the other night. He remembered her soft skin over her hard body...it was almost too much in that moment.

A few passerby had spared glances at the exchange, but upon noticing his tattoos the smart ones dared not stare. His entire reason for visiting Belle was not to frighten or intimidate her- she was too much fun just the way she was. "I have a present for you, treasure," he smiled almost pleasantly if there had not been an almost mad glint in his black eyes as he pulled his mobile phone and pulled up a photo of a very bloody and broken James Donovan and showed it to her proudly. "You might be a tough no good bitch, but you can come to me with...problems," he added, furrowing his eyebrows as he searched for the right words to say. He was having difficulty deciding if he liked her or hated her, but Yakov knew that he wanted to help her in any way he could regardless. "You can repay me anyway you see fit. Perhaps a cup of coffee?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and offering his arm like the gentleman he pretended to be from time to time.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

How...

Belle's hand closed around her phone and it broke under the pressure. The screen shattered into a million pieces, the sim car cracked, the mother board was destroyed... and it didn't matter, Belle's mind wasn't on her cell phone, she watched the man with a blank face, the terror she was feeling in her stomach. He knew... and he was throwing it in her face. No one, EVER had spoken to her about being mad. NO ONE knew, NO ONE had so much has breathed a whisper.

And it was just as painful as she imagined.

"Doctor Frankenstein was the monster, not his creation," Belle snarled in response. She hadn't meant to let him know he hit a nerve, hadn't meant to let him know how absolutely mortified, embarrassed, ashamed, and scared she was. Belle hated herself for her changing, and wanted nothing more than to be a normal woman... even if she was a poor seamstress working in Kiev. Belle would never let him know how much she hated herself... and now he knew. She didn't know if she could ever look at him without being ashamed of herself again. Even as he held her chin and whispered in her ear she stood stiffly.

Her blue eyes were blank as she watched Yakov straighten his suit, betraying no emotions, she feigned boredom.

That was until he pulled out his camera phone.

A grin broke out on her face and she tilted her head to the side. "I could have handled it," Belle explained, "but I knew you would have so much fun with it and I couldn't deny you that." She was still mortified, but could fake a purr well enough, as well as a caress. Belle took his arm like he was a gentleman... which could not be further from the truth. She was acting like he had given her diamonds rather than a bloodied boy. "And you do so much for me, and snoop... if I didn't know better I would think you actually liked me Yakov Romanovich. Come, I'll buy you lunch."

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

He had managed to strike a nerve, which meant that Iryna Ivanova possessed real emotions. He liked that he could get a rise out of her, though he felt a pang of what he thought might be regret at the remark about Frankenstein himself being the real monster. He knew real monsters, he was a monster himself, and the wisp of a woman standing in front of him was nothing more than a girl who had what he imagined to be nightmarish things done to her. He had survived his own harrowing childhood, but he had grown up to be something very different. He lived in the dark while this...Belle Simon woman at least tried to function in society. He would not let her know that he felt bad for his choice in words. He was sorry to have called her a monster, but he was glad to finally get under her skin and more than slightly amused that she had broken her phone as a result.

Yakov shrugged his shoulders and placed his phone back in his pocket. "I did not work alone. I used it as...a training exercise for a comrade," he replied nonchalantly, as if he was talking about a trip to the grocery store rather than nearly killing a young man. He was not about to mention that the gruesome scene on his phone was caused by a beautiful young woman who happened to be his daughter and not himself. That conversation could be saved for another day- preferably never.

"I might be fond of your company, treasure, but I am not so sure that I actually like you...as beautiful as you may be," he replied, shaking his head indignantly as they walked down the street. He did not spend too much time in this part of town which was why he was shocked to see a familiar face exit a jewelry store. The older woman was in her sixties, petite and thin, with a round face and gray curls falling to her shoulders. What surprised Yakov the most was to see her kissing a man about her own age goodbye. The scene stopped him dead in his tracks and before he could stop himself from acknowledging the woman he exclaimed, "Zina Ivanovna!" The old woman turned suddenly and her face went pale when she saw Yakov a mere five feet away.

"Yasha! What are you doing in this part of town? You never leave Brighton Beach," Zina greeted with a nervous smile. Seeing a pretty young woman on Yakov's arm, she took the distraction before he could respond or ask about the man who appeared to be the proprietor of the jewelry store. "And who is this? You didn't tell mama and I that you had a new girlfriend!" she asked cheerfully. "I am Yakov's auntie Zina," the woman introduced herself to Belle in enthusiastic English and her speech was not as heavily accented or broken as Yakov's.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

GOD WAS GOOD!

Moments after he had made her feel no bigger than an ant, this little gem had fallen into her lap. This Zina Ivanova was a family member of Yakov Romanovich, was someone close to him... and her recent interaction with a strange man had Yakov Romanovich paler than a ghost! He had even yelled out in shock... who knew such a man had such a soft spot for his aunt? If she wasn't so infuriated with the man, Belle would have thought it adorable. Instead, all she saw was another move in their game. Another way to make him pay for calling her a monster.

"A pleasure to meet you Zina Ivanova, I am Iryna Ivanova," Belle said hurriedly and in Russian trying to endear herself to the woman. First, by making an impression, second, by helping her avoid answering questions that were most certainly on his mind. If she did this Zina a favor, perhaps There was no need to let Yakov even get a word in edgewise. This was going to hurt him... badly. She would not be letting him speak, would not be letting him pull her away form conversing with the beautiful older woman. Good for Zina for having a boyfriend without her nephew's approval. She held out her hand for Zina to shake. "It is so wonderful to meet you, Yasha talk about you all the time. " She gave a polite smile and glanced at Yakov as if she were madly in love with him and was ready to to have him wrapped around her little finger. "Oh Yasha, let's invite her to lunch with us, it is my treat."

Belle reached down playing with Yakov's tomcat tattoo as if she was an innocent little kitten rather than a pussy cat with claws... sharp claws. Belle had even robbed that nice man's shop before... she noted to skip it on her next run for the sake of Zina,whom she already liked. She would simply rob Tiffany or Cartier next time, or take her frustrations out on Yakov. He deserved it anyway, making her feel like a monster... Belle knew she was one, she just ignored it.

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

’This must be what Hell is like.’

He had survived a famine, an attempt on his life by his own mother, starvation in the streets of Moscow, two stints in the gulag, and three additional prison sentences- and this moment was by far one of the most uncomfortable and nightmarish moments of Yakov’s century of living. His vivacious niece was cozying up with his current plaything and if their current back and forth was not bad enough, Yakov knew what would come next. Zina had always been close with her mother and would be sure to inform Maria Romanovna about her uncle Yasha’s new flame as soon as she returned home. This was a disaster. All he could do in defense was stand perfectly still in hopes that he could somehow disappear from the situation entirely.

”Aah! You speak Russian? I suppose you’d have to with Yasha’s distaste for English,” Zina laughed and patted her “nephew” on the cheek sweetly. He rolled his dark eyes in exasperation. Hell indeed. ”You don’t have to lie, Iryna, Yasha never talks about his family. He thinks everyone is out to get us,” Zina added, winking a pale blue eye up at a very surly looking Yakov. She knew her uncle and his choice in women well enough to know that this was probably a bit of an act, but to see the old man squirm after she had been caught with a strange man…well, Zina Roskova had it in her mind that this Iryna Ivanova was probably perfect for Yakov. He needed someone young, vibrant, and intelligent to keep him interested. ”I’m afraid I just had lunch with my Danila. Perhaps you will come for supper sometime. Mama would love the company. Besides, our Yasha is her favorite,” Zina declined the offer for lunch, but took the opportunity to tease Yakov just a little bit more. She knew she was going to be in trouble for having a boyfriend behind his back anyways, so she figured she would have a little fun with him while she could get away with it. She took a scrap piece of paper out of her large Prada bag- “nephew” Yakov certainly spoiled the women in his life- and scribbled a Brighton Beach address on it before slipping the scrap piece of paper in Belle’s hand. ”Tomorrow at seven,” she nodded and wagged her finger before giving Yakov a kiss on the cheek and bidding farewell.

And now his sister was going to meet the harlot. Perfect.

After they had continued down the sidewalk a little ways Yakov finally broke his silence. ”I can’t believe Zina is…She has been in America too long,” he growled. If the old jeweler’s store had not already been recently robbed, he might have thrown some bricks through the windows later that night. He considered doing that anyways for a moment or two. ”What game are you playing at, Iryna? What we had going before was fine, but involving my family? I won’t allow it,” he growled.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

Belle watched Zina go, a smile on her full lips. It was good to see a strong woman in Yakov's life. Too often, the women associated with mobsters were too afraid to open their traps when they were around, too afraid to defy them... Zina's courage spoke to Yakov's good nature with his family. Belle's hand was wrapped around the piece of paper with the address. She would cherish the invitation. Would she go? Probably not, she knew what she was, she knew what she was doing and knew that she wouldn't be sullying Zina's home with her presence. Belle was a plaything, a person destined to only ever see Yakov's bed. She was not a girlfriend or even a high class comare. Family was off limits to her, she knew that rule to the game.

But still... it was the first time she had ever been invited to someone's home.

Yakov's rambling about his aunt being in America for too long was almost cute and she wanted to tell him that Zina looked happy, but Belle knew her place. The game didn't allow her to comment on something so personal and close to home. But... then he rounded on her and Belle's fists clenched around the address. How dare he growl at her!

"YOU'RE the one who dug up years of torture and pain," she said, keeping all emotion from her voice. "Who started nosing around in personal places." And the moment the words escaped her mouth... she realized she had given away too much. She let him know how much it hurt. She gave a cough and then smirked hiding it. "Karma put Zina Ivanonva in our path, not like I went looking for her. " She pocketed the address and reconsidered going to the dinner even if it violated that game. Yakov Romanovich had already done that, he had already gone nosing about her past, things that she had never spoken of outloud were now known to him.

Of all the people...

Well, at least he wasn't a super.

"And I won't go visit them," she said with a shrug. "You have nothing to worry about. Your private life will remain off limits in this little game, I don't want to hurt your family... " She grinned and looked up at him. "Just you, and only to make you scream my name."

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

Yakov had not been expecting Belle to snap back at him and call him out on his snooping. He almost always dug up as much as he possibly could on the people he found interesting. She should have been flattered that he cared enough to put all the time, money, and effort to find out more about her. Zina and Maria would have suggested he actually ask her about these things, but Yakov had been fooled by women before and would not be simple enough to fall for Iryna's half truths. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked her in the eyes, his nostrils flaring in anger and his coal black eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't know torture and pain. So you were a lab rat for a few years? Bah! Welcome to the life of an orphan in the old country! At least your survived," he sneered. He had been poked, prodded, and experimented on by the government. He suffered decades of torture in the labor camps, having to use his powers to barely survive. Yakov was sure that the man he was now was a far cry from the bright eyed farm boy or even the teenage pick pocket he had once been. He was not about to admit that her experience had given him a sense of camaraderie with the young woman, that he felt she might even be his equal. No, he was not about to divulge such precious information about himself to this girl he hardly knew. The fact that she was aware he had a family at all was bad enough.

It was taking all of his willpower not to drain her of all her energy right there in the middle of the sidewalk. It had been many years since anyone had managed to dig themselves underneath his skin so successfully and he just wanted her to shut up for five minutes so he could figure out what exactly was going through his brain. "I'm not about to disappoint two of the only people I find worth caring about in this world. You will come to dinner. You and Zina's mama have that whole...orphan girl thing in common. She will like you," Yakov sighed in a defeated tone. He did feel bad about the things he had said to her and wanted to make it up to Iryna. This game was becoming dangerous. "You can try to hurt me all you want, treasure, I enjoy a little pain with my pleasure, but if you hurt my family I will kill you. Don't think I can't do it just because you're a super," he warned with a small smile that looked almost genuine. Maybe he did like her after all- but she was still a pain in the ass and he was still a little angry that she had put on that adoring girlfriend act for Zina.

When they reached small cafe down the road, Yakov held the door open for Iryna politely. What he really wanted to do was take her back to his place and show her just how frustrated he was, but that would be desperate- even for him. No, he would have lunch with her, walk her back to work or secure a cab home for her, then call a prostitute for him to take his frustrations out on.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

Old country?

Belle rose a brow looking up at him quizzically. He was talking like an old man, one who was on his death bed... someone who lived in Russia... not the Soviet Union. "You're what... five years older than me? Seven maximum?" And now she was doubting that... was he a super like herself, was his power agelessness? The Seductress was well known -as were her powers- so the idea wasn't far from Belle's mind. "What do you know of 'the old country'?" It was better to call him out on something he said than argue. Let him belittle her pain, let him think she went through nothing... Belle knew what it was like to have fire in her veins, to have needles everywhere, to scream in pain until her throat was raw. There was no arguing that, she knew what pain was, it wasn't worth arguing. Nothing she said could say would change his mind, and arguing would only bring back unwanted memories. Belle needed none of them to come creeping back less she have nightmares for months.

And it would belittle her pain. Better to stay silent.

"I assure you once again, I won't hurt your family." Belle ran her free hand through her hair already thinking of what she could do to impress Yakov's family. She's bring a loaf of home made bread, maybe a French dessert and a bottle of wine. Or perhaps bottle of top shelf Russian vodka. It was the first time she had ever been invited to someone's house for a purpose other than fucking. Belle needed to make an impression... or at least not offend them by showing up empty handed. "Do they like white or red wine?"

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

Sometimes Yakov felt as if time passed by too quickly for him to keep up with the times. Not a whole lot seemed to change in the cities, they were still large and dirty and the people were rude and he had not been out to the country in many years, but he doubted much had changed there either. Regardless, he realized that sometimes he spoke like an old man. Most of the time he could pass it off as just being a jaded gangster who had spent a little too much time in prison. "More or less," he shrugged his shoulders. Being vague about his age meant that he did not have to remember what age he gave people. "I know that it was a harsh and cruel place to grow up. Then again, prison rules are a little different," he explained nonchalantly. The only people who knew how old he really was were Zina and Maria, even his own daughter had no idea just how old he was. He was not about to explain the hours and hours of exploratory surgery in less than sterile conditions, the infections, being beaten within an inch of his life by prison guards, the solitary confinement he was sure drove him into madness...

He would not dwell on the past though, it was a waste of time and would only make him unhappy.

Yakov currently had bigger problems than his past tortures. He had not brought a woman to meet Maria since 1968 and he only remembered that because it had been a monumental disaster. He had been living with Vera for a year and had finally relented to her demands to meet his family. Maria had taken an instant dislike to the petite red head and Zina thought Vera to be too proud for her own good. The relationship had not lasted long after the notorious dinner in which Maria famously proclaimed that she would stab herself in the neck if Yakov ever brought that "junkie waste of space" into her home again. Needless to say, it had not gone well. "Maria drinks vodka- though nothing fancy," he nodded, taking a seat at a small table by the window and perusing the small menu at the table. Belle came from humble beginnings, she was not some gangster's daughter or an heiress or anything else Maria disliked and Yakov was unsure if he dreaded the idea of his sister and Iryna getting along or not.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

Vodka...

Belle gave a nod and ran her hands through her hair. Maria sounded like an interesting woman and the more she heard about her. Belle had never been taken home before so she was suddenly nervous... though she had no idea why. She was Belle Simon, she was a designer at Chanel, she was a high powered woman who was friends with top designers. She was the Gemstone, super rogue, the super the Angel had a crush on, the one that robbed hundreds of jewelry stores in New York... but at heart, she was the orphan Iryna. The little girl who had no one.

"Don't fret," Belle said opening the menu and folding her legs. Her foot bounced for though she told him not to fret, Belle was nervous herself, and she was fretting. "I won't embarrass you, I won't do something stupid and I won't try to become her best friend." Not that Belle knew how to be a best friend. Or even a real friend. Belle had three people in the world she would consider friends... Yeva, Yakov and her dog. It was stupid of course, but that was hwo she lived her life.

The waiter came and Belle ordered a bottle of wine for the pair as well as an appetizer. It was nothing special, but Yakov had not been cheap on their last date, she would not be cheap on this little lunch. They were just out today, and it really was her treat. He had caught her, this was the payment she owed him for losing this part of the game.

"So why did you visit me at work?" Belle asked glancing up from her menu. Her blue eyes caught the light and looked like gems for a moment. "To intimidate me or did you just miss me?" Belle gave a small smirk. She didn't mind playing anymore, they couldn't just be sweet, where was the fun in that?

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself

[YAKOV MYSHKIN]

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

Yakov gave an almost imperceptible nod when Iryna reassured him that she would not embarrass him or try to become too close to Maria. The frail old woman who lived a block away from him meant the entire world to the old gangster. She was the reason he started stealing and found himself in the gritty Moscow underworld. He had stolen, cheated, and killed for that woman and he was always very careful about whom he let her be around. She was ninety seven years old but Maria Romanovna would always be five years old to Yakov.

When Iryna looked up at him her blue eyes flashed like precious stones and Yakov felt his breath catch in his throat. That was certainly a loaded question if he had ever heard one- and he had. ”Couldn’t it be both, treasure?” he asked, his lips curling into a wry smile. Had he actually been missing her company in the last three days? He had certainly been thinking about her quite a bit- but Yakov had figured that was due to the whole James Donovan situation and not the mind blowing sex or, heaven forbid, her personality. ”You know, I had never been with a super before. It was…interesting,” he shrugged his shoulders and sipped at the wine the waiter brought to their table. He was not about to give Iryna Ivanova too much credit, part of her appeal had to be that she was a super like himself, right? He could not let her know of his own abilities though, not yet at any rate. Let her figure it all out on her own.

”So tell me, treasure, did you miss me?” he asked, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. He wondered if she had been thinking of him much since their last rendezvous, not that he expected to get a straight answer from her. Their game was still very much in play and he knew that she was desperate to regain the ground she had before Yakov discovered a raw nerve in her past. Everyone had at least one, which was why he never let anyone in or kept records. There was too much pain in his youth.

{ tagged :: belle | words :: something | outfit :: here }

made by ally of thesintax on livejournal

[BELLE SIMON]

all that glitters isnt gold

not all who wander are lost

Miss him?

Well that's was a dangerous question, here Belle thought she was being clever. Sipping at her newly delivered wine Belle smirked. "Of course," she said, doing her best to sound just a tad sarcastic. In all reality she was dealing with losing Ivan and meeting Yeva. She had been very busy, but in the back of her mind she had missed Yakov. She had even left the bonds from the night before on her bedside table. The sex had been that good. "I yearned for you every night." With that, Belle laid on the sarcasm rather thick.

But it was not a lie.

Her appetite was insatiable.

"Though I'm sure you enjoyed it not just because I am a..." Her blue eyes glanced around, making sure no one was listening. The current opinion was turning against supers. There had been a law passed about registration recently and while no deadline for registration had been announced, Belle was not about to let the world know her... condition.. "A super, and please don't say that out loud, no one else needs to know my little... illness." And it was indeed an illness, one she wanted to cure herself of. Expect there was no way. The mad doctor who had changed her was dead and she was sure no one could figure out how to reverse her condition expect for someone with super human intelligence, and they were unlikely to ever help. They would probably view it as a doctor cutting a perfectly healthy spine in order to make someone cripple. "Particularly with registration coming up."

Belle swirled her wine again and then took a sip. She was letting too many of her cards show again. He could easily use her powers against her... but he already knew didn't he? There was not changing that. And Belle knew she wasn't low enough to hurt his family if he hurt her. She would never stoop so low. "The government doesn't need its fingers in my life and surely you know that." Belle ran her foot up his leg doing her best to mix business with pleasure.

word count: 0000. place: place place tagged: yakov wearing: outfit lyric: jrr tolkin. template: by lewis.@caution2.0 notes: this ship sails itself