Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Ixy on 13-02-2019, 21:56:30</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>13-02-2019, 21:56:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)&nbsp; Her rental car from Rapid City Regional Airport is a white Chevy Cruze. Jackson's only stipulation with the online reservation was that it be reliable and affordable, so she was relieved, less than an hour prior, to find that it had Bluetooth so she could skim through a few decent music tracks on her way to the state government office.<br><br>Across the parking lot, she thumbs through the leather folio she carries, then zips it tight and double-clicks the remote lock on the rental.&nbsp; <i>Spartan-looking building,</i> she says to herself, noting the distinctive architecture, before opening the glass-panel doors and hearing the click of her heels change from their soft 'clack, clack' against the concrete to a resonating, pealing sound on the tile inside.<br><br>Greeting the secretary with a polite smile-- if that is what the young woman's title is-- she removes a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses and speaks in a clear British accent.&nbsp; "Good day, madam-- I'm here to see Dr. Archard."</div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>14-02-2019, 23:43:57</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre was running late. One bad thing about playing hero at night was the fact that he sometimes overslept. However, his job tended to be lenient on time because of it's nature. As it was he came jogging up to the doors just after a pretty woman entered. He swiftly smoothed his polo, that was nearly bursting at the seams of his arms and stretched across his pecs, and brushed his hair back as he walked inside. The soft soles of his loafers making little sound compared to the woman's and was thus masked. He was about to walk past the woman when he heard her ask for him.&nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The front desk attendant looked up in annoyance, glanced at him, and promptly ignored the woman. Before anything can be said, he speaks up. "If you'll follow me Madame." He walked a few steps before turning and gesturing towards his office. "Please. Come." Once they were inside, he closed the door behind them. "I apologize for Sheila. A few people here resent me for getting my job through my father's connections. As such they like to give me the cold shoulder. I am Imre Archard." He then extended his hand to her to shake hers. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>15-02-2019, 05:02:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; For just a moment, the red-haired young woman flits her glance up and over Imre as he stands beside her at the front desk, then she quirks a brow quizzically and follows after him.&nbsp; There's a moment of recognition in that look-- certainly, she's scoured his profiles in public forums and the like, and even seen pictures of him from departmental gatherings, lectures, public blogs of some of his more... <i>amorous</i> students, even.&nbsp; But in-person, he's a bit surprising.&nbsp; Bigger than she expected, for one, seeing as he is an academic... perhaps a climber, or a health-nut?&nbsp; That would explain why her olfactory senses process a keen <em>tinge</em> that might be extra matabolites about him.<br><br>The nanite processors in her brain are curious, noting a combination of base reactions in her brainstem that coordinate with core patterns of stress-- potentially arousal, potentially a fear response.&nbsp; They're always measuring and analyzing her as much as they're picking apart what she perceives.<br><br>"Doctor Archard-- thank you very much for seeing me without notice," she says, following him to his office.&nbsp; She shrugs at the mention of his connections.&nbsp; "I'm certain that any jealousy is ill-founded.&nbsp; Your work speaks for itself.&nbsp; Your work in a variety of Meso-American, Pre-Colombian, and Paleolithic cultures is extensive, and groundbreaking.&nbsp; Very few researchers have granted the kind of insight that your lectures share." Her smile remains polite, a light sparkle in her blue eyes, as she sits in his visitor's chair across from his desk, crossing her legs so the hemline of her gray suit-skirt sits just a bit above the knee.&nbsp; "It's just a shame that other leaders in your field perceive it as a threat to their authority."&nbsp; <br><br>With a faint shrug, she readjusts the leather folio in her lap, then unbuttons the matching gray jacket so it sits comfortably over her cream-colored blouse.&nbsp; She wears a simple silver chain around her neck, and a couple of rings-- but no engagement or wedding ring to be seen.&nbsp; "It's this insight you have that brings me here, you see," and after so many sentences, his experience can certainly place her accent as British with a faintly Scottish lilt, as of one educated in Edinburgh.&nbsp; "I've been requested to investigate some relics and markings that, interestingly enough, were found in New Mexico, but don't seem to match the known archaeological record of the area.&nbsp; If you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd like to see if you are interested in providing some insight into their origins."<br><br>From the folio, she produces a glossy print-out of a high-definition photo, looking at first to be grayscale, but upon inspection proving to be some inscription made in basalt, or some other fine-grained volcanic rock.&nbsp; The symbols are reminiscent, at first glance, of the Los Lunas Decalogue Stone, but the symbols don't seem to match any similar alphabet-- they are more elaborate, finer-detailed.&nbsp; Even tracing the script is like viewing a production of terrible beauty, and nothing of earth's creation.<br><br>"We've consulted a few scholars of Native Cultures, and sent photos to cryptographers-- even religious scholars.&nbsp; The most... well... <i>smashing</i> theory is that we have an example of <i>angelic</i> script.&nbsp; Can you imagine such a thing?"&nbsp; Something in her unwavering smile smacks of plausible deniability.&nbsp; "But you strike me as a man who likes a challenge.&nbsp; Does this," and she angles her face, examining him through faintly narrowed eyes, "tickle your fancy?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>15-02-2019, 18:05:04</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Doctor Archard-- thank you very much for seeing me without notice," Well she certainly was a formal one. His eyes wandered over her body. Not in a sexual way but in a subconscious way that suggests that he is measuring her for any potential threat. There was something about her that wasn't quite right. He shrugged mentally, maybe it was just because he was constantly surrounded by people who spurned him on the daily. "I'm certain that any jealousy is ill-founded.&nbsp; Your work speaks for itself.&nbsp; Your work in a variety of Meso-American, Pre-Colombian, and Paleolithic cultures is extensive, and groundbreaking.&nbsp; Very few researchers have granted the kind of insight that your lectures share."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He raised a brow in pleasant surprise. "Not many can list the cultures that I've done lectures on. I only seem to hear about my muscles or questions about my workout routines and eating habits. And it was no trouble seeing you at all. You have a....commanding presence after all." He chuckled softly at his joke. Although, not many found his humor funny. "And please, just call me Imre. After all I don't have a doctorate just yet. Please have a seat." He gestured with an open hand to a chair in front of his desk. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; "It's just a shame that other leaders in your field perceive it as a threat to their authority." As she sat down, Imre sat on the corner of his desk. "Well, they seem to take exception to the fact that I got the job at a young age and with none of the experience that they have. I guess it's not too polite to upset the pecking order as a fledgling researcher. However, it really doesn't bother me too much. I have my own reasons for being here and if they don't like it they can leave. So what brings you here to visit this small-time researcher?"<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"It's this insight you have that brings me here, you see. I've been requested to investigate some relics and markings that, interestingly enough, were found in New Mexico, but don't seem to match the known archaeological record of the area.&nbsp; If you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd like to see if you are interested in providing some insight into their origins." His brow furrowed and he immediately became serious and focused and unintentionally gave of alot of pressure to anyone sensitive to energy. "Interesting." He walked around to his chair and sat down. He turned on his desk light that helped illuminate pictures and other documentation. He took the photo from the woman and placed it under the light. He quickly glanced at the picture but glanced back at her in amused disbelief as she said the word 'angelic'. It couldn't possibly be that. He began muttering to himself as he ran over the picture with his eyes. "Is this grayscale? No too dark for grayscale. Perhaps hematite? No even unrefined hematite has a slight shine to it and is prone to shattering making it unreliable as a stone for transposing. It must be land based basalt." <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He soon forgot the woman sitting at his desk and began walking around the office with the picture still muttering here and there as he turned on the coffee brewer. Although it wasn't coffee that came out but Lady Grey tea. He poured himself a cup and added some sugar before returning to his chair and absentmindedly stirred the tea as he looked over the picture. The lettering seemed familiar to him. Albeit very vaguely. Almost as if he had forgotten the symbols from lack of use. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He took out a magnifying glass stand and a notepad and pencil. He placed the picture under the magnifying lens and tried to transpose the lettering onto the notepad. However, it was a chore to do even a single symbol and thus he had to give up after a single line. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He sipped on his hot tea studying the pad before looking up and realized the woman was still there. He blushed deep red. "I-I'm so sorry. I kind of got lost in my work. I swear I didn't mean to ignore you. W-would you like a cup of tea?" Damn, his bad habit of losing track of everything when he focused had shown itself.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>15-02-2019, 23:06:10</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; For a moment, she is annoyed that she had overlooked so simple a detail as his lack of a doctorate, but she is careful not to let that detail reflect on her face.&nbsp; Though she smiles at his flattery about her 'commanding presence,' so she accepts it with a gracious smile.&nbsp; Soon enough, she's marveling at his curiosity, and thanks to the nanites, she doesn't have to be terribly distracted to do so.&nbsp; She's able to process many things at once-- the details of his office including the arrangement of his belongings, the smell of the tea, the way his arms and chest move as he studies the photograph, the lovely cleft of his chin bobbing ever so subtly as he focuses his attention on the images, and his reaction to the writing itself.&nbsp; <br><br>When he pauses in his transcription, she finds herself positively transfixed by the sudden vulnerability of his momentary embarrassment.&nbsp; "Oh, thank you Imre.&nbsp; Tea would be wonderful."&nbsp; She politely declines the sugar, then stands to accept the cup from him, smiling a bit more openly than before as she looks into his eyes.&nbsp; "And, please-- you have nothing to apologize for.&nbsp; You're doing exactly what I'd hoped in looking this over.&nbsp; If anything, I've been terribly rude-- I failed to even properly introduce myself."<br><br>She extends one slim, pale hand.&nbsp; "My name is Jackson Stewart.&nbsp; I'm a," and here, there's a very slight, but perceptible pause, "field researcher for the government.&nbsp; The inscription you see is related to a series of... discoveries, of sorts, that I and others are obliged to investigate.&nbsp; You seem to be as fascinated by it as I had hoped you would be.&nbsp; And, I believe you are precisely the person we need for this mystery, Mr. Archard."<br><br>Imre can see a shadow in the frame of his door, as of someone hovering just beyond the doorframe, waiting to see him.&nbsp; Through the privacy glass, he can make out the familiar shape of Sheila, standing there.&nbsp; It's as if she's eavesdropping, at first, but she doesn't appear to be really listening-- rather, she's simply standing there, shuffling closer, as if she's just forgotten what she was about to do... then, with a self-conscious shake of her head, she simply sidles away from the door, wandering back towards the secretary's desk where she's left an unanswered email.<br><br>If Jackson has noticed, she doesn't show any reaction.&nbsp; She opens the folio she carried in, a bit hesitantly, and bites her lower lip in thought.&nbsp; Her gaze hasn't left Imre's face.&nbsp; "I... have a bit more here to show you, you see.&nbsp; However, you will need to sign some things first.&nbsp; It's... well, this will sound a bit <i>dramatic</i>," she says with a soft laugh and a lift of her eyebrows, but her voice timbre returns to its calm, even tone, "it's a matter of international security.&nbsp; Non-disclosure agreements, you see."&nbsp; She draws out several pages of print, each bearing different seals in different places.&nbsp; Through the paper, the natural light of his office window reveals the seal of the office of the US President, the office of NATO, and a third seal that is, as of yet, impossible to identify.<br><br>"In short, if you agree to never publish or discuss what you're about to find out, see, or learn from this with any outside party, then... I can show you more.&nbsp; And I can even take you to the site where this was found, right now, and show you much, much more."<br><br>Sheila has made her way back to the privacy glass again, and is once more standing at the outside of his office.&nbsp; This time, she is not standing properly, and he can see a blurry shape fall from her face-- probably her plastic-rimmed glasses-- as it tumbles to the floor.&nbsp; From the outline of her light-blue sweater, it looks as though Sheila's arms are bent at the elbow and she's holding her face, or her head perhaps, in her hands as she takes small, awkward steps, turning her face back and forth.&nbsp; She still hasn't spoken up-- at least, not loudly enough to be heard through the door.<br><br>"What do you say, Imre?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>18-02-2019, 04:44:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre was puzzled by the lettering. How could something he's obviously never seen be so familiar to him.it took a few moments before it clicked. It could be ancient Enochian. When he wrote the lettering and touched it, a single word entered his mind and he whispered it to himself. <em>"confusion</em> However, the word wasn't spoken in english, but in Enochian. Moreover, it was also the first time that he could hear that it wasn't in english. Thus, he wrote the lettering at a feverish pace, albeit compared to his previous one. He wouldn't discover the effect of the word until later. Also, unbeknownst to him, when he spoke in Enochian, his eyes flashed like light passing over metal.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When she accepted his offer, he turned to hide his face and calm down as he poured her tea into a mug. As she accepted the glass she replied further. "And, please-- you have nothing to apologize for.&nbsp; You're doing exactly what I'd hoped in looking this over.&nbsp; If anything, I've been terribly rude-- I failed to even properly introduce myself. My name is Jackson Stewart.&nbsp; I'm a," Imre shook her hand, but the pause was disquieting. It held secrets. But he soon found out why she pause when she finished. "field researcher for the government.&nbsp; The inscription you see is related to a series of... discoveries, of sorts, that I and others are obliged to investigate.&nbsp; You seem to be as fascinated by it as I had hoped you would be.&nbsp; And, I believe you are precisely the person we need for this mystery, Mr. Archard." Imre sighed as things became clearer. "A government researcher. That explains why you know so much about my professional life. You've done your research well." Imre noticed Sheila inching closer to the door seeming to be confused or distracted. He was about to say something, but she just returned to her desk. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; "I... have a bit more here to show you, you see.&nbsp; However, you will need to sign some things first.&nbsp; It's... well, this will sound a bit dramatic." Imre just continued to look at Miss Jackson as she chuckled. "What? Am I going to be making a deal with the devil?" Little did Imre know that his joke wasn't far off. "it's a matter of international security.&nbsp; Non-disclosure agreements, you see." 'Of course. Contracts.' Imre was annoyed that he hadn't seen that one coming. After all he WAS dealing with the government. "In short, if you agree to never publish or discuss what you're about to find out, see, or learn from this with any outside party, then... I can show you more.&nbsp; And I can even take you to the site where this was found, right now, and show you much, much more. What do you say, Imre?" Imre noticed that Sheila was back and looking even worse than before. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He simply walked past Miss Jackson as he spoke. "I think something is wrong with Sheila." He open the door to see Sheila looking not so well. "Sheila? Are you ok?" He gently grabbed her shoulders to have her face him. He heard a soft whisper from the woman "I-I don't know." Imre saw that her eyes were weird, one was dilated and the othe constricted. She also seemed to be in some distress. So he led her to a corner and whispered in her ear. <em>"Calm!</em> once again the Enochian words flowed from his mouth just barely audible to the woman. With that, her body relaxed and she seemed to faint. Well, with the amount of duress she was under, he wasn't too surprised. He walked back into the office before signing the documents. Imre looked up into Miss Jackson's eyes. "If it is what I think I wouldn't be able to post my findings anyways. I'd be labeled as a fantasist, a plagiarist, a liar, or any one of many things. So, let's see what I can find out." This was indeed Enochian. Finding those tablets and ruins could greatly increase his powers. He had already proven that, but he wouldn't tell her that. He still couldn't trust her yet, but having a contact with the government and doing this for them could greatly increase his ability to gain a hero license. As much as he hated the idea of registering his ability, he'd need that license.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>19-02-2019, 23:39:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; When Jackson is about to reply to his suggestion of a 'deal with the devil' as something of an appropriate allegory, albeit in a teasing way, she hesitates-- of course, this is an urgent matter, and even governments fall on the side of protecting their citizens against dangers when they can.&nbsp; She's about to explain this, when she sees his eyes look past her, and sees the genuine concern in his face, so she instead watches him as he, in but a moment, helps Sheila to from an obviously agitated state to one more like induced sleep.<br><br>Her slim eyebrows knit together ever-so slightly as he returns to the office, and she watches him take the papers from her hand, speechless.&nbsp; <i>"If it is what I think I wouldn't be able to post my findings anyways. I'd be labeled as a fantasist, a plagiarist, a liar, or any one of many things. So, let's see what I can find out."</i>&nbsp; He notices that her breath is a bit faster, her pupils a bit more dilated.&nbsp; It's all quite simple, and something he's seen before on women in his presence.&nbsp; But he's certainly not used to an autonomous response being so sudden or obvious from a mature professional-- all just, apparently, from him being within a few inches of her, and handing papers to her up close.&nbsp; <br><br>"Very well, Imre.&nbsp; I'm glad to have your help."&nbsp; She tilts her face just a bit, casting a glance over her shoulder toward Sheila and then returns her gaze to his eyes.&nbsp; "<i>Quite</i> glad, actually.&nbsp; And I'm very interested to hear what <i>it</i> is', if <i>it</i> is what you think.&nbsp; You might be surprised at how accepting I can be of... emerging theories."<br><br><hr><br>Within an hour, they are at the Regional Airport, where a chartered Cessna is waiting for them.&nbsp; The car rental attendant is shocked to see her back so quickly-- and asks at first if there was a problem with the car.&nbsp; Jackson, walking at a brisk pace, smiles and waves him off quickly.&nbsp; "No, thanks, just a pop-in, pop-out!" and they are able to quickly screen through security with their charter papers and IDs... although there's a brief delay as Jackson pulls the TSA officials aside and insists on a non-x-ray security check 'for medical reasons,' providing some official-seeming paperwork as she explains.<br><br>During the drive, she's already discussed with Imre that all of this would have been faster, and certainly less expensive, if conducted via Skype, but she had wanted to see his reaction first-hand.&nbsp; She provides him with a file-folder of photographs, depicting a variety of landforms not altogether uncommon in the New Mexico desert, Pueblo archaeological sites, and markings, as well as an attached series of reports.&nbsp; There are more inscriptions, including rubbings, digital photographs, and sketches, even a map-- clearly marked are a few spots in the northeast of the state, a few specks in the desert, and a square near one corner of White Sands national monument.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>The reports detail findings from a dig overseen by the AIA, UC, and UNM, dating from as far back as 2009.&nbsp; The reports indicate typical findings for the Anasazi sites of the region, but around 2012 a high concentration of skeletal remains was discovered, showing evidence of violence and dismemberment.&nbsp; Among them, and from the surrounding areas, came additional findings and graphical depictions of a kiva underground-sanctuary made by a god or diety that hadn't been referenced before-- something portrayed as a black flower with a woman-like shape in the middle.&nbsp; Something so specific and without tie to a specific natural function didn't fit the plethora of gods that modern scholars knew.<br><br>And the latest addition, in back of the other reports and photos, is a dispatch, heavily redacted, indicating unexplained disappearances of over two dozen civilians and a half-dozen military personnel in and around White Sands Airforce Base.<br><br>In Albuquerque, her car is waiting at the airport garage, sitting in the cool shade as the heat-striations snake through the air around them over clay-colored land and blocks and blocks of city-scape.&nbsp; She's eager to answer any question he has along the way, and it will be a bit of a drive, she has explained, to reach the dig site.&nbsp; "A few hours, at least.&nbsp; Hungry at all?&nbsp; Thirsty?&nbsp; Any of that?"&nbsp; Her car, a full-sized SUV, requires an elfish little hop from the redhead to pop her way into the driver's seat.&nbsp; "I know a nice roadside stand that sells <i>really</i> good pozole," and the word almost sounds ridiculous with her Scottish accent it around.<br><br>((I recognize that was quite a bit, but... moving us on may require a lot of downtime... and I figured you'd have specific questions to fill in about the contents, or you can add/improvise anything you like.))
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>20-02-2019, 01:23:07</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-hi-res-4.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre noticed her reaction as he handed the papers to her. She seemed to be physically attracted to him. But why so suddenly? She hadn't been like that when he had first entered the office. At least, not that he remembered. Maybe it was the care that he had shown to his coworker? Nevertheless, she was a client and thus not subject to his advances. Maybe after their business was conducted, but until then, he would bury the thought. "Very well, Imre.&nbsp; I'm glad to have your help. Quite glad, actually.&nbsp; And I'm very interested to hear what it is', if it is what you think.&nbsp; You might be surprised at how accepting I can be of... emerging theories."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre stares right back into her eyes, his own unwavering. He was hesitant to speak in their current setting, but since he knew no one was around besides Sheila, and she was currently unconscious, he decided to speak. Besides, he would have to tell her his findings eventually and it wasn't like him knowing Ancient Enochian would reveal his abilities. "I'm virtually 100% positive that these symbols are Ancient Enochian. That is the language of the angels. Some know it also as the language of the birds, the original language that humans spoke before the christian God caused the confusion of the tongues. However, they are slightly different from Dee's Enochian which is more common known, which explains why no one caught it. That's why I couldn't post my findings anyways. It's already been posted and people would ostracize me unless I had something that backs my findings up. Something that proves that it is Enochian and not some other language."<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Well it seemed like he wasn't going to be given time to pack his bags. Which wasn't so much of a hassle as he didn't even know how long he would be at the site. He had enough time to pack his computer and some tools he might need there,&nbsp; inform his boss that he was going to be doing some work for the government(not that that was believed until Miss Jackson presented some documents) in New Mexico, and inform his father of the current situation and get some funds sent to his card in case of emergencies. Sometimes being adopted by a rich family could have benefits. The next thing he knew he was at the airport going through the pre-check at security. She was able to get through without having to do the metal scanner, but he was not as fortunate. The TSA agents at the scanner and the x-ray machine were both the standard Beta-males that he always encountered, intimidated by his physical stature and trying to assert their dominance. He was pulled out of line as a 'random person check'. Just as he always was. They made him take off his shirt, much to the pleasure of the women around and the jealousy of many of the men. His things went through the scanner twice and was opened up and investigated piece by piece in a not-to-gentle manner. "I suggest that you be careful with my things.' The TSA agent looked at him agitated and tried to push him back, not that it worked. "I suggest you back the fuck up and let me do my job." He then went back to searching through his things even rougher than before. "If you damage anything, I will make you pay for it, and I'm pretty sure that you can't afford to pay for even half my stuff on your salary. And since I'm flying for work, I'm pretty sure that my client wouldn't be too enthused by you being careless and delaying my progress." He gestured to Miss Jackson with a smirk. After that they quickly, but carefully repacked his stuff and shooed him off. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;During the flight, he was browsing the internet on information on his destination, like the weather, local cuisine, etc. Most of what he knew was about ancient cultures after all. When they finally landed, he stopped at a baggage store and purchased a large rolling bag. After all, he'd need it for his way back and even if it was more expensive to get it at the airport, they had a wider selection for travel sized bags and not just simple school backs or those used for camping trips. Once they were in the car and on their way, Miss Jackson handed him a file with reports, rubbings, pictures, maps, everything with information that he might need. While rifling through the pages, he listened to her briefing, but was still absorbing information from the pages. "Most of these are Puebloan, Hohokam, or Navajo depictions and architecture. However, there are indeed some irregularities amongst them. Chiefly this Kiva. It's not the regular religious altar. I've never seen this particular one, nor this flower. I would like to visit this sight and see if I can gain some insight." He continued to peruse the documents until her questions interrupted his musings. "Hmm? Oh...Yes that sounds fine. Actually, there's been something bothering me for a while now. Why is there a document of missing persons among these papers? What does that have to do with me giving you insights on inscriptions. I mean, I can understand the the report on dismembered bodies, as that might correlate to the statue, but not this."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>21-02-2019, 04:53:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; Jax nods at his questions, shrugging at the observations.&nbsp; "Fair questions," she begins, and begins twirling the stylus she's been using to draw schematics and equations on a Surface tablet.&nbsp; "When these events were brought to my attention, it's because there were red flags in the pattern of events, you see?&nbsp; The incidence of key human behaviors and world events are cataloged and kept in a database with scripts running to monitor frequency of certain behaviors and events."&nbsp; <br><br>He can see her eyes dancing as she explains, and she stops her pen-twirling for a moment to flick up a blank 'slate' on her screen to draw with.&nbsp; "You can refine or refract the scale to various levels for the sake of statistical analysis, of course, depending on the potential severity of the occurrence.&nbsp; So... a population shift from Manhattan to Brooklyn over twenty years--" and she draws a quick 2-d line graph with a slow, gradual curve, "it's noticeable, eventually, but it depends on other correlations, like property prices and gentrification, entertainment options, school district performance, crime rate--" and she overlaps different wave-form lines, "all influencing one another, and being influenced in turn."&nbsp; Interconnecting lines of varying color, with hastily drawn arrow-points.&nbsp; <br><br>"So, for anomalous instances-- like a terrorist attack, a "Fortune 50" company moving in, a Superbowl win, an archaeological discovery-- you have an expected impact."&nbsp; She uses a distortion effect to draw all lines in a particular direction-- up, then down-- then clicks a button and draws in a star and labels it 'incident'.&nbsp; "Usually we can pinpoint the effect, but sometimes we just... can't."<br><br>Drawing out the report of missing persons, she flips through a few files, and then comes to rest on a single spreadsheet.&nbsp; "Here you go... White Sands AFB's rate of absences without leave for the past two years."&nbsp; She shows him a column of decimals, touches them with the pen, and-- viola-- a simple line graph.&nbsp; "And there's three weeks ago."<br><br>Despite the relatively few AWOLs that they've had, it still represents an increase of over 1600% per week.&nbsp; "And... here's by duration."&nbsp; Of prior AWOLS, only 4% have been longer than 48 hours.&nbsp; All those over the past 25 days are still missing.&nbsp; Similar disappearances correlate with missing person cases, as she demonstrates and explains, with local townships.<br><br>"And here's the real kicker."&nbsp; She pulls up a digital map of the area.&nbsp; A red box indicates their target area.&nbsp; Disappearances appear in an animated map as she clicks 'next' to step forward by date.&nbsp; The missing person and AWOL reports form a widening spiral from the dig site.<br><br>"So... yes.&nbsp; Possible cannibalism, war, or human sacrifice from a 15th century culture that the Apache actually called, for some reason, 'the Ancient Enemy,' indecipherable writings, and a kiva that we've barely scratched."&nbsp; She grins a bit.&nbsp; "I did some research and you stood out.&nbsp; You had a passion for your subject, an expertise-- you weren't... you know... <i>reading from note cards</i> or anything in your lectures, you were speaking from <i>understanding</i>.&nbsp; That's what we require."&nbsp; <br><br>Her hand is on his thigh, now-- easy to accomplish in the close-quarters of the small plane.&nbsp; But she doesn't seem to notice if she's invading his personal space.&nbsp; "I was watching every available lecture in the library of congress from the past <i>decade</i>, six at a time, and I found yours on the Dakota Archaeological Institute's <i>YouTube</i> page of all things."&nbsp; Grinning, she gives his leg a pat.&nbsp; "Feels like serendipity to me."<br><br>*<br><br>Just on the outskirts of Albuquerque, they're parked at a roadside stand where, as she had promised, there is better-than-decent Southwestern food for sale.&nbsp; She's eating frybread and sipping a longneck Corona under the shade of the SUV's raised rear door, where there's just enough carpeted space for the two of them to sit in front of a couple large cases of unlabeled equipment.&nbsp; She's watching him from behind her Wayfarer shades, which are doing little to hide the concern in her face, when she starts speaking again.<br><br>"You know why I didn't balk when you started talking about Enochian, don't you?"<br><br>With a dry smile, she takes a long pull from the water-beaded bottle of beer, then continues.&nbsp; "It's because part of this <em>incident</em>... Or, correlating with it, I should say... have been some strangely supernatural occurrences."&nbsp; She furrows her brow behind the black sunglasses and sets her mouth, clearly regretting not bringing this to the forefront earlier.&nbsp; "If it is Angelic script... no one <i>alive</i>really should be able to recognize something like that, from what I know about it.&nbsp; Which is not much at all, honestly.&nbsp; So... how is it you <i>do</i> know what it is, and how can you... well... read it?"<br><br>Then, with a bit more concern, she sets her food and beer aside and brings one knee to her chest, unconcerned about the non-businesslike way of posturing herself in the otherwise slick, gray suit.&nbsp; "And what could happen if that kind of writing, or relics like it, fell into the wrong hands?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>22-02-2019, 02:10:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Imre sat back after the explanation that she gave him. Her hand on his thigh wasn't all too bothersome as women tried to do that to him all the time. What <em>was</em> bothersome was her arguement. It made alot of sense for him to know that information but only if one thing was true and it irritated him that she was trying to hide the true objective of hiring him. "My job isn't just identifying and translating some ancient language. Is it? You want me to not only identify and translate, but also understand how events are relating to the site as well as locate and pinpoint the cause so that the government can stop the source before word can get out and cause a panic. Am I correct?" He sighed. "If it is your supervisor is going to have to pay alot more than my normal rate. Which, by the way, I need to talk to them about before I start my investigation." He had to make sure that they weren't going to pass one over on him before they tried to hide serious information. He leaned back in his seat before something clicked in his head. Did she say she watched six videos at a time?<br><hr><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As they sat in the back of the van eating, he was enjoying a bowl of the promised pozole and drinking a large coke in a muscle shirt that had done a little bit better at holding up compared to the polo. They had bought one at a convenience store at his insistance. After all, once he stepped out of the car the a/c wouldn't be able to help. His skin was Glistening with sweat from the heat. He hoped he'd get used to the difference in climates soon. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He was also going through the information he'd recieved. Maybe the incidents coincided with geothermic 'hotspots'. Or maybe spiritual ley lines. He'd have to buy some maps to investigate those. It could also just be local superstition. His perusing was interrupted by the young lady. "You know why I didn't balk when you started talking about Enochian, don't you?"<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He chuckled. "I have a feeling you're going to tell me." She had mentioned that she had heard some really outlandish theories. So it was most likely that. "It's because part of this incident... Or, correlating with it, I should say... have been some strangely supernatural occurrences. If it is Angelic script... no one alive really should be able to recognize something like that, from what I know about it.&nbsp; Which is not much at all, honestly.&nbsp; So... how is it you do know what it is, and how can you... well... read it?" His pulse picked up quite a bit at that even while his body didn't reflect the change. "And what could happen if that kind of writing, or relics like it, fell into the wrong hands?" <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Well while it isn't all that common, there are alot of people that know the symbols of Enochian. There are also two different versions that are known: Dee's version and Kelly's version. Dee's is more widely known, but Kelly's is more accepted. Enochian was 'discovered in the lat 1500's I believe. It was said that Dee had discovered the lost language of Adamian or the language that Adam used to speak to God and the angels while in Eden. It's called Enochian because supposedly the last known person to speak it was Enoch. Dee later teamed up with a supposed seer, named Kelly. Kelly eventually wrote a book called 'Liber Loagaeth'&nbsp; or 'The book of the speech of God'. Dee's version isn't that accepted because alot of the letters and phonetics follow with English, and is thus considered fake. Kelly's version lacks any similarities to known languages and thus believed to be true. Today alot of 'witches', excorcists, and even Satanists use part of Kelly's version in rituals. Most researchers see it as a sham and won't look into it because there's no way to really prove it's real. I happened to be interested in the topic, thus I know of it. But what you found is slightly different to both Dee's and Kelly's versions."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Hopefully, she wouldn't look further into it and just take it at face value that it had just been his interest that gave him insight. If not, this could become quite problematic.[/color=brown]"As far as what it can do? I've found that 90%of 'mysticism' s just an illusion and as for the other 10%.....Well let's just say that 300 years ago a lighter would have been considered magic."[/color]
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>24-02-2019, 18:47:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>Smoothly wiping her mouth with a paper napkin, Jackson absorbs all the information that Imre has provided her-- and somehow she seems to catch it all.&nbsp; Her eyes dart around, flick to her tablet in one hand, turn to the paper-wrapped frybread that she seems to be thoroughly enjoying, but she keeps returning her gaze to him, and her bright eyes dance in appreciation of his looks though she nods succinctly at each point.&nbsp; One would think her incredibly rude to divide her attention so, if she weren't doing it incredibly effectively.<br><br>At the last bit, she smiles with understanding.&nbsp; "... and in 2019, meta-powered humans might be gods."&nbsp; She shrugs, glances aside.&nbsp; "Or devils, unfortunately."&nbsp; She balls up the paper napkin and walks to the front of the vehicle, tossing it into a bin by the stand and speaking a quick, friendly farewell to the stand owner in Spanish.<br><br>At the car with its deeply-tinted windows, she starts the engine again.&nbsp; "As far as what they'll pay-- I texted and there's some discussion.&nbsp; I mean, I'm trying to push for more, but they said they would pre-authorize a <i>per diem</i> of two-hundred to your debit card, and once they process the paperwork it'd be something like two thousand per day, plus expenses.&nbsp; Don't ask how they got your bank account."&nbsp; She then shuts something off in her mind-- or something-- like she hits a switch, or refocuses, but whatever it is, her eyes glaze over for the briefest moment, and when she turns her gaze back to him, Imre can tell she's no longer thinking about four things at once.&nbsp; She's focusing her attention entirely on him.&nbsp; "I'm sorry if I seem rude sometimes, like I'm not listening, or paying attention.&nbsp; I realize that can be strange for people, but, I'm... kind of weird that way."&nbsp; <br><br>She shrugs, looks a little sheepish, then gestures toward his pocket-- if he is carrying a phone.&nbsp; "Call whoever you need.&nbsp; Your father, maybe?&nbsp; Girlfriend?&nbsp; Any colleagues or anyone you want to touch base.&nbsp; I'm sorry to rip you away from your life like this."&nbsp; She starts the car, and heads further on the road, leaving the city's sprawl behind in a gradual thinning of buildings and spreading of desert vistas and broad, clear skies.<br><br>*<br><br>((They'll wind through the desert on their way to her test range near Tat Momoli.&nbsp; Once they're far enough from the city, she opens the throttle and engages a set of signal lights on the car to indicate official business.&nbsp; Soon, they're driving over a hundred and twenty miles per hour down long stretches, making incredible time.&nbsp; Their next stop will be at one of the few active hangars on the abandoned base she uses... where her helicopter waits.&nbsp; Of course, Imre will be invited to take a bit of time to relax, first, and if he needs anything before the trip, he needs only to ask.&nbsp; They'll then fly to the remote site where a military and FBI base-camp has been set up around multiple acres of desert land.))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>27-02-2019, 23:10:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre's eyes narrowed slightly as she referenced meta-humans. Did she notice his secret or was there some other hidden meaning that he hadn't noticed? Either way, he had to be careful around her. She was abnormally sharp. Most couldn't follow what he had said. Yet, she had. "Meta-humans are a myth. Just like the Cyclops. Magic is merely the term used for technology that wasn't understood. Vast difference. Besides, one man's god is another man's Devil. It's just a matter of perspective." Imre followed behind her to throw away his trash before going to shake the cook's hand. " Gracias para la comida. Esta muy bueno." <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre returned to the car and placed his polo on the front of the seat before sitting back on it. After all he didn't like the feeling of sitting in a car after sweating. "As far as what they'll pay-- I texted and there's some discussion.&nbsp; I mean, I'm trying to push for more, but they said they would pre-authorize a per diem of two-hundred to your debit card, and once they process the paperwork it'd be something like two thousand per day, plus expenses.&nbsp; Don't ask how they got your bank account."&nbsp; Imre sighed heavily. "The government loves their hackers. Well, tell them that the pay is ok, but I will only do research with the already gathered information until the paperwork is finished. I'm not risking life and limb for $200. I'll need to gather equipment anyways." He may have sounded irritated, but it was just to cover his surprise and glee at the pay rate. With that money he could practice with his powers even more and maybe even learn some real martial arts. Not the pathetic political and social catering gyms that play at teaching the art.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"I'm sorry if I seem rude sometimes, like I'm not listening, or paying attention.&nbsp; I realize that can be strange for people, but, I'm... kind of weird that way."&nbsp; Imre smirked a bit. "I'm used to dealing with people that have ADD. It's nothing new to me. Besides, I can tell you've been paying attention to what I've said. So, there's no need to apologize."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; "Call whoever you need.&nbsp; Your father, maybe?&nbsp; Girlfriend?&nbsp; Any colleagues or anyone you want to touch base.&nbsp; I'm sorry to rip you away from your life like this." He chuckled at her expression. She was shy NOW? That was amusing. "It's part of my job. I leave with little notice sometimes. Besides, I told my father about this job before we left that building. Not that I need to tell him. And not many women like to be around someone as dry as me. Even if my muscles make them weak. Also, as you've seen, I'm not really close to my colleagues."[/color]<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When she first started to speed he was really nervous. He even grabbed the "oh shit!" handle. But not long after that, he relaxed enough to lean back and let things happen. He even started to drift off before they arrived at the abandoned base. He stretched his legs and body before opting to continue on. After all, with a military base came food and clothes. If not he should be able to go to the requisition officer and order some. Besides, it'd be better to just get there as quickly as possible.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>01-03-2019, 00:44:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>Jackson parks the vehicle under an overhanging bay adjoining one reasonably well-maintained building amid a sprawl of run-down hangars and bunkers.&nbsp; At his comment about ADD-- well, that actually strikes her as kind of funny, and she can't help but grin a bit.&nbsp; "That's a surprisingly flattering assessment."&nbsp; She seems content to leave it at that.<br><br>Most of the structures are open to the elements, but this one clearly has current use-- there's a limited amount of the creeping dust on its surrounding pavement, a rather serene looking zen garden, and a couple of relay towers with signal repeaters and a small cluster of subtle, high-end satellite receivers.&nbsp; She exits the car and gestures toward the door.&nbsp; "If you need anything, we can stop in here.&nbsp; We'll take the Sikorski the rest of the way."&nbsp; Closing the SUV's door behind her, she gives him a sly kind of appraising look behind her dark shades.&nbsp; "There's facilities.&nbsp; Not much to offer by way of clothes to pack, mine aren't your size." She grins, cocks her hip to the side and gives him a smirking grin.&nbsp; "The, ah... ADD isn't my only issue.&nbsp; So I think it'd be better to get this out of the way."<br><br>The desert sun glares down on them like an open oven, and she steps toward the shade where, on an old, weather-worn steel table, a collection of rock samples is scattered out as if she was working, but hadn't finished.&nbsp; "So, you're a bit of a tough read.&nbsp; Maybe you play poker, I'm not sure."&nbsp; She grins, more comfortable once the sun's out of her eyes, and removes the sunglasses to meet him eye to eye.&nbsp; "But, well... you said meta-humans are a myth.&nbsp; I don't know if you believe that, but I can tell you with certainty that they are <em>not</em>."&nbsp; With a small shrug of her narrow shoulders under the gray silk jacket, she glances over at the empty span of clay and sage on the horizon before looking back to his eyes.&nbsp; "I know from, well... having made ahh...contact with a few.&nbsp; Some quite extraordinary."&nbsp; <br><br>She tries not to focus entirely on the afternoon she met Kestrel flying through this desert here... that would be a distraction.<br><br>"A woman who may look no more <em>extraordinary</em> than me might be anything but normal.&nbsp; She might be able to, say, create some sort of energy field within her body that not only amplifies her physical prowess, but could even work with such acuity that she could fly."&nbsp; She tips her head a bit, drags her toe along some loose sand on the concrete foundation.&nbsp; "Or, a normal-looking girl might have... <i>synthesis</i> with a form of advanced machine consciousness that, so far, human science cannot reproduce or fully analyze." <br><br>She seems a bit embarrassed to even admit such a thing, and it's clear then that she means herself now-- not some abstract 'other'.&nbsp; "There's <em>always</em> some kind of physical measurement... some mechanism that we can identify that causes the power.&nbsp; Well... so far, that is.&nbsp; But rarely do we fully understand the origin of such abilities.&nbsp; Otherwise, they wouldn't be so uniquely exceptional.&nbsp; Like cell phones, you see... we'd all get used to them."&nbsp; <br><br>She steps out of her heeled shoes and is barefoot-- stockingless, a strange fashion statement-- and stoops to pick up the shoes in her free hand as she manages the dossier in the other.&nbsp; "So, open your mind to possibilities, Imre, that there is a great deal at stake here.&nbsp; Not all of these individuals are philanthropic.&nbsp; None of them," she pauses, lashes momentarily fluttering over her blue eyes, then reaffixes them to his, "none of <i>us</i> are like others.&nbsp; Some are wracked with physical or emotional pain.&nbsp; Some are power-mad.&nbsp; Some have uncontrollable desires for power, profit, destruction-- obsessions that transcend the normal."&nbsp; <br><br>Swallowing dryly, she looks up at him through her eyelashes and steps a bit closer.&nbsp; Her words are rapid, her accent clear and crisp.&nbsp; "The odds are that, if someone has found the key to this mystery of ours, if may have changed them.&nbsp; So there's going to be danger.&nbsp; We just have to try to get as few people hurt as we can."&nbsp; With the lifting of one hand, she leans closer to Imre's chest, and slows the pace of her speech.&nbsp; "That includes you.&nbsp; You could be in harm's way.&nbsp; And, on a... less globally-menacing scale, that includes your emotions.&nbsp; I must be frank with you, because I find you attractive and, well... as unprofessional as it is... I find it very difficult to control certain... impulses."&nbsp; Turning away with some measure of concerted effort, she gestures at the base.&nbsp; <br><br>The words come rapid-fire once more.&nbsp; "Hence-- living out here in the bloody desert.&nbsp; Keeps me focused on my work.&nbsp; Otherwise these--" she gestures with her loose fingers in a spiral around her head, still holding her shoes in two half-clenched fingers, "--these damned... <i>impulses</i> I have, they make me obsess over certain acts.&nbsp; Desires and the like, and... errrr..." she blushes, hides her face behind the leather folio to pantomime shame.&nbsp; "Ugh, well.&nbsp; It's still me.&nbsp; I make the decisions.&nbsp; But if it's consensual and casual, and it doesn't hurt anyone, or cause confusion.&nbsp; So... I have to change, and, if you wanted to, we could have sex."&nbsp; She bites her lower lip gently.&nbsp; "But, like I said, I don't mean it as a way to manipulate you, or use you, or anything.&nbsp; It would be casual, kind of a-- well-- friendly thing."&nbsp; With a steadying breath, she turns on her heel and heads inside, touching a quick series of buttons on the entry keypad.&nbsp; "I'm quite certain that's not the kind of come-on you'd expect.&nbsp; And you need not answer right away.&nbsp; But.&nbsp; Well, there it is.&nbsp; Fridge is over there, restroom there-- I'll be-- yes.&nbsp; Here."&nbsp; She disappears into the dark recesses of the living space, which is functional but lovely with stark colors, ultra-mod lighting, and a rather comfortable-looking couch.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>01-03-2019, 04:39:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre woke from his rest as they pulled in. He rubbed his eyes a bit as he stifled a yawn. "If you need anything, we can stop in here.&nbsp; We'll take the Sikorski the rest of the way. There's facilities.&nbsp; Not much to offer by way of clothes to pack, mine aren't your size." He chuckled at that. "Oh, I don't know about that. I think I could fit in your shirt. Although, I admit that your pants might be a bit hard to get into." <em>Crap! Had he really just flirted with his client? Damn!</em> &nbsp;Yet, he kept everything from showing on his face except for a soft smile. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"The, ah... ADD isn't my only issue.&nbsp; So I think it'd be better to get this out of the way." He immediately became serious as he leaned against the car and waited for her to continue. "So, you're a bit of a tough read.&nbsp; Maybe you play poker, I'm not sure." He gave a knowing smirk but didn't reply. After all, that would be making his poker face meaningless. "But, well... you said meta-humans are a myth.&nbsp; I don't know if you believe that, but I can tell you with certainty that they are not." Immediately, the smile disappeared and a look of intense contemplation took it's place as he looked her up and down. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He listened to her shpeal in silence judging from the way she was talking that she was talking about herself. She confirmed his thoughts when she said "Us" instead of them. He couldn't believe that she was revealing such a precious and harmful secret to him. Did she truly trust him that much? He couldn't quite tell, because just as she had said he was hard to read, so was she.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"The odds are that, if someone has found the key to this mystery of ours, if may have changed them.&nbsp; So there's going to be danger.&nbsp; We just have to try to get as few people hurt as we can. That includes you.&nbsp; You could be in harm's way.&nbsp; And, on a... less globally-menacing scale, that includes your emotions.&nbsp; I must be frank with you, because I find you attractive and, well... as unprofessional as it is... I find it very difficult to control certain... impulses. Hence-- living out here in the bloody desert.&nbsp; Keeps me focused on my work." Well, apparently that answered his question. She did trust him a little, but it seemed she was trying to be open with him to protect him by making him completely aware of the situation. The only way being that she had to reveal her secret.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Otherwise these--these damned... impulses I have, they make me obsess over certain acts.&nbsp; Desires and the like, and... errrr...Ugh, well.&nbsp; It's still me.&nbsp; I make the decisions.&nbsp; But if it's consensual and casual, and it doesn't hurt anyone, or cause confusion." She seemed to be unsure of herself and rambling which was honestly kind of endearing to him as she was normally so self-assured and confident. "So... I have to change, and, if you wanted to, we could have sex. But, like I said, I don't mean it as a way to manipulate you, or use you, or anything.&nbsp; It would be casual, kind of a-- well-- friendly thing. I'm quite certain that's not the kind of come-on you'd expect.&nbsp; And you need not answer right away.&nbsp; But.&nbsp; Well, there it is.&nbsp; Fridge is over there, restroom there-- I'll be-- yes.&nbsp; Here." <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; She seemed to all but flee into the safety of her private chambers. Almost as if she was afraid of being shot down by him. Maybe she was. After all, it was never easy to come out to the person you are attracted to. Even if its just to be casual. Besides, she had been completely forthright with him with both the job and her secret. He should be as honest as her. If he was honest with himself, he felt himself attracted to her physically, but also mentally. She was intelligent and confident. She was attentive and cunning. Something that wasn't very common to him. She could even keep up with him mentally.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As he thought for a couple minutes, he came to a decision. He stepped into the building as he stripped himself of his muscle shirt and walked towards the room he had seen her disappear into. He gently knocked with the side of his index knuckle. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Hey. Miss Jackson. I'm coming in." He figured it would be more polite to announce himself before just barging in. He spoke as he opened the door as he spoke, not giving her time to respond. After all, she might have changed her mind due to embarrassment or fear. "I have some things I want to say." He closed the door behind him before turning to face her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>01-03-2019, 05:15:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>After the bright light of the desert, it's almost saturnine dark in her living space.&nbsp; Clean-printed signs mark "WORKSHOP" off to the right, and there's a small counter-space with basic facilities, a pale glow of blue from a sleeping stereo, and a simple metal door-- which she's left ajar-- leading to the room she's in.&nbsp; Beneath a slow-spinning ceiling fan that casts long slats of shadows along the twelve-foot ceiling, a twin-sized bed rests a foot off the floor, covered only in simple linens and joined by a small, battered nightstand, which itself hosts a handmade lamp crafted from corrugated steel, decorated with nail-punctures across its whole surface in a rustic, floral pattern that spills light through the tiny holes like melancholy stars.<br><br>Jackson's looking away into a small dressing mirror, and she's slipped off the jacket and blouse, returning them to their hanger on a simple rack, bearing a small variety of ladies' clothes.&nbsp; Her bare back is a lovely silhouette, the soft light accentuating the subtle curves of feminine muscle she carries, the stretching and smoothing shadows from her shoulders down to the twin dimples at her bare lower back.&nbsp; A narrow white band of a bra strap crosses just under her shoulder-blades, across a large, glittering pattern like some kind of primal war-tattoo that follows her spine from mid-back, widening like an arrowhead and branching out in wicked-looking arms, following the arch of her spine all the way to the nape of her neck and disappearing seamlessly under the line of her red hair.&nbsp; Seamlessly... as if it continued well along her scalp.<br><br>She is unzipping her skirt at her left hip, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, and gives no sign of shyness as he enters.&nbsp; One sculpted leg grazes lightly along the opposing thigh as she scissors her legs and the garment falls from her waist, pooling on the woven red-and-gold rug under her bare feet.&nbsp; Her ass is pert, a round swell of youthful flesh and muscle at the tops of her thighs, a white triangle of satiny material like a taut sail crossing the swells of tender skin enough to cover, but not conceal, the cleft between those cheeks.&nbsp; Looking over her shoulder, she seems almost in a trance, her delicate features calm and placid as she regards him.<br><br>The 'tattoo', he can easily recognize, is highlighted by glimmering blue nodes-- something electric and alive at once.&nbsp; There's a machine-like element to that patch of her skin, and it's clear: this is no marking of the flesh-- this is a living machine, a part of her body made alive.<br><br>She turns to face him, letting her eyes drink him in with a long, hungry stare.&nbsp; Magnificent as he is, physically, it's the presence of him-- the otherworldly aspect of him, as if there's some fissure in his heart, or his soul or mind, that is flowing up in a slow, steady current like an undersea vent.&nbsp; She can't <i>not</i> see it, and somehow baring herself to that energy from him is <i>natural</i> to her.&nbsp; She wants him to look, wants him to drink her in, just as she wants whatever comes from him now to flow over and through her.&nbsp; "I'm listening."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>02-03-2019, 00:27:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre stopped and watched as she stepped out of her skirt, his eyes slowly trailing down her firm, lithe body. He indeed liked what he saw. His eyes traced the 'tattoo' with running currents of energy from the small of her back up to her shoulders. When she looked at him, the hunger in her eyes was quite palpable. Her presence felt like he was the hunter. A hunter that had been tracking and chasing his prey only to realize that it was he who had been hunted.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;When she broke the silence, he slowly crossed the distance to her. He stared down into her eyes as his hand came up to caress her face. His fingers curling behind her head, cupping her neck. His thumb resting just in front of her ear. He lowered his head closer to hers and softly spoke. "I can tell you care about my safety. I can tell you desire me, but don't want to strain our relationship. Especially when we have to work together. And I appreciate you telling me your secret. Now, as long as you can promise me that you will keep whatever happens, between us, then I don't mind taking you up on your offer. I also find you attractive."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He bent down the rest of the way to seal her lips with his in a soft yet hungry kiss. His other hand coming up to rest above her hips, lightly squeezing her side where her 'love handles' would be. If she had had any. He pulled back and regained her eye contact, his forehead resting against hers. "I must also tell you, I lied when I said meta-humans were a myth. Since, you told me your secret, I will tell you why I lied. But that should be put aside for later.I think there's something a little more pressing at the moment." <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He once again captured her lips with his, giving her a passionate, but gentle kiss, before capturing her lower lip between his teeth.He softly pulled until they slipped from their captor. "Now what do you think we should do?" He looked at her, smirking softly as he leaned back. Now that he had made his move, it was time she made hers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>08-03-2019, 03:33:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>She returns the kiss that Imre gives her, a soft sound from the back of her throat like a kitten's 'mew' coming involuntarily, so that when he continues to speak, she covers her mouth in a bit of embarrassment with the back of her hand, looking up into his eyes with her own blue ones with a slightly ashamed kind of surprise-- and enjoyment-- glimmering there.&nbsp; She then returns his kiss again, slipping one hand under his arm to cup his shoulder, the other encircling his head to draw him closer.&nbsp; His touch to her hips feels good-- like a dance, almost-- and though she's sure he can feel her hip-bones, she's not self-conscious about her 'skinniness', per say... she's always been slight, but she is healthy enough, and there's a bit of curve to her, defining her as feminine and womanly despite the girlishness of her frame.<br><br>Pausing to appreciate his eyes as she draws her fingertips along his shoulder, neck, and jaw, she lightly bites her lower lip.&nbsp; In response to his question, she gives a soft little shrug-- he can feel the brush of flesh and lace against his belly and chest as she presses close, touches the dimple in his chin, and her expression turns to a sultry smile.&nbsp; "I've an idea or two."&nbsp; Reaffirming her grip on his back, her hand strokes his skin and muscle as her other trails down his chin and neck, traversing the crevice of his chest and abs, then pauses for the briefest moment at his fly.&nbsp; She grips his belt, gives it a firm tug to loosen it, then unfastens and lets it fall open-- savoring the soft clink of metal and the resistance of leather against her hand.&nbsp; The fly of his jeans is her next target, first to unbutton and then unzip, then to explore at the waist of his pants all the way around to the top of his ass, sliding her slender fingers along the inside of the fabric.&nbsp; It's as if by accident that she loosens his hips from his pants in the process, hoping to free him of them from the waist down.<br><br>At far less than his height and mass, she has no power over him physically, but she presses close and gives him a nudge toward the bed, encouraging him-- tugging gently-- to lie upon his back and let her "do the work".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>08-03-2019, 05:53:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre almost teased her about the cute little sound she made, but thought better of it. After all, he could tease her about it later. He stared back into her eyes with his own. He had been both tease about and complimented on his eyes. The deep chocolate brown surrounded by a dim gold ring. Some women found his eyes irresistible. However, looking at her blue eyes that complimented her ginger hair, he couldn't help but whisper, "Enchante." He hoped she didn't ask why he spoke french, because even he didn't know. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The feeling of her hand tracing along his body was entrancing and enticing. He was caught between wanting her to explore more and having her get both of them where they both obviously wanted to be. Naked and stimulating eachother. As she loosened his pants, he felt them drop to mid shin. He pulled her closer, almost seeming to try to meld their bodies together. He stepped out of his pants and kicked them to the side, leaving him standing in just his black boxer briefs. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As she tried to physically guide him, he squatted down and lifted her by the back of her thighs causing them to straddle his hips, his manhood poking her firm butt as it strained against the fabric of his underwear. He then walked over as he kissed and nibbled along her neck and jawline until he was in front of the bed. He sat down on the edge and stared into her eyes. He reached up with his right hand and gently gripped her chin with his thumb and index finger before softly kissing her again. His left hand slid up her back and released the clasp on her bra, but he waited for her to make the next move. After all, it was the last chance to stop before anything happened if she was having second thoughts.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>09-03-2019, 18:15:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>Jax enjoys giving herself over for those moments as Imre lifts her against him-- the firm grip of his strong hands on the tops of her thighs, carrying her slight weight as if she were nothing.&nbsp; The press against his body in that moment is heavenly, and she writhes close, exhaling a long sigh of bliss into his ear as his lips and teeth explore her sensitive throat and shoulder.<br><br>Straddling his thighs as he sits on the bed, she dips her head aside to let her red hair fall across one shoulder, allowing her to appraise him in the soft light as he unclasps her bra.&nbsp; Her hands trail along his shoulders and arms, tracing contours and swells of muscle and bone, and she looks warmly into his eyes with her lips subtly parted to draw heated breath.&nbsp; After only a moment's hesitation-- not reconsidering, simply drawing that anticipation out so that she can savor his reaction-- she shrugs one strap from her shoulder and, giving a simple tug, slips the brassiere down her arms, letting spill the ample, pale spheres of her breasts.&nbsp; She brings her hands together, stroking her fingers around Imre's waist to his navel to do so, and slips the garment off, revealing pale-pink aureoles crested by hardened, upturned nipples.&nbsp; She may not be overly-endowed, but her shape is exquisite-- especially, in that the pliant globes meld together with her arms pressed so, then gently spread as she tosses the garment aside.<br><br>Wanting to give him a moment to prepare-- if this is what he desires-- she strokes his chest with her hands before kissing him once, then again, tenderly, then easing back with a sultry and encouraging smile.&nbsp; She wants to be enjoyed, and wants to savor him in turn, and he can tell as much from the glistening spark in her eyes as the flush across her pale, upper breasts and the rapid swelling of her ribs that she, very clearly, is aroused beyond what her words earlier expressed.&nbsp; Making no secret of her appreciation of his body, she takes the time to trace the angle of his cheekbone with her lips and forefinger, the cut of his jaw as well-- her other hand roaming more freely to memorize and explore the size and shape of his torso and-- without shame-- trace his thighs' girth with her fingers before cupping, then stroking, the length of his cock through the fabric of his underwear.<br><br>Her appreciation of his body, with inhibitions cast aside, encourages and stimulates her curiosity even more.&nbsp; And it's but a moment before she squirms closer to rub her entire body against him, from the nape of her neck to the junction of her thighs, letting her breasts and stomach meet him everywhere she can as she writhes against and kisses him with sheer ecstatic need.<br><br>Then, arching her back and raising upon her knees-- an act that causes her to rise up and tense her whole body-- she shivers, shudders lightly, and lets out a soft, whimpering little noise of bliss with each breath... her eyes clench, she quivers a moment, and then it subsides, with a light giggle from her lips.&nbsp; "I'm... ah..."&nbsp; she turns her head and grins in mild embarrassment, "quite... responsive, as you can see."&nbsp; She shakes her head, bites her lower lip.&nbsp; "I think, perhaps, I'd better start..."<br><br>... and so she glides along his torso, trailing her coppery mane from his cheek to his shoulder and chest, hooking her fingers in his waistband and tugging insistently.&nbsp; With a bit of his cooperation hopefully forthcoming, she'll be able to free his briefs from his body and over his knees, exposing him entirely to her bare-breasted, pale and lightly-freckled form, as well as her eager intentions.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>10-03-2019, 01:37:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He saw the hesitation and quickly realized that she was teasing him. His eyes narrowed in amusement and his lips curled into a smirk. But his eyes quickly drop to her breasts as she removed her bra. His breath turned into a shallow hiss both at the reveal and her dragging her fingers from his hips to his stomach. His hands lightly slid along her thighs, over her panties and clasped her butt in his hands.<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He was trying to hold back and go slow to match her pace as he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. However, the sight of her breasts, the feel of her ass, the sounds of her heavy, aroused breaths were driving him insane with lust and desire. Which she would be able to tell as he kissed her with force. He wanted to ravish and devour her but at the same time he wanted to caress and pleasure her softly. Such contradictory feelings were making him uncertain which path he should choose. His mind went blank as her wandering hands finally reached and cupped his manhood. Compared to his stature, he may not look big, but he had a respectable 9 inch dick and was girthy enough that smaller women couldn't completely wrap their hand around it.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As she pressed and ground against him, on hand stopped kneading her ass and ran up her back only to lightly scratch back down it. He began nibbling lightly on her neck and ear or even lustfully and breathlessly capturing her mouth with his. He was actually quite surprised that she seemed to have a mini orgasm just from the heavy dry-hump session."I'm... ah...quite... responsive, as you can see." He chuckled as he looked into her eyes. She looked absolutely gorgeous when she bit her lower lip. He didn't know why, but she was.&nbsp; "I think, perhaps, I'd better start..."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As she slid down his body to kneel in front of him. E simply whispered, "As you wish." He raised his hips a little and allowed her to take off his underwear, causing his erection to pop out, now freed from its constraints. Compared to his stature, he may not look big, but he had a respectable 9 inch dick and was girthy enough that smaller women couldn't completely wrap their hand around it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>12-03-2019, 05:28:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>She paused for long enough to draw his member gingerly out of his underwear-- her eyes widening perceptibly as the waistband stretches more than she thought she would need to free him.&nbsp; With a soft hitch in her breath, she exhales softly and looks up to his eyes, then back to his member, and without meaning to lets out a soft breath of surprise with a voiceless, "jaaaysus christ..." and blinks in surprise despite, yes, actually covering her mouth with her hand and leaning back a bit in disbelief.<br><br>"Imre," she says softly.&nbsp; "Please, don't be upset, but... I'm not sure I can handle this."&nbsp; She draws his underwear down his thighs, rolling and tugging them across the stretch of taut muscle as she enjoys the view of him from below, then-- in a burst of girlish, playful impatience, she uses her foot to tug them off to his ankles as she climbs back up his thighs toward his midsection with a flurry of hot-breathed kisses.&nbsp; "But... I'm going to try."&nbsp; She giggles high and soft between soft-smacking kisses along his abs and pecs, then lets her tongue trail a swath across his nipple as her hands steady her above him with his erection poised in an arc to touch her navel.&nbsp; She shifts her hips and gyrates slow, lets the head of him trace across her smooth abs.&nbsp; "Just..." and another kiss, then a nip at his taut chest, "be gentle with me.&nbsp; I'm... not invulnerable."&nbsp; She breathes out a soft, happy sigh and then dips her forehead at his breastbone, letting her fiery hair spill like bolts of silk along his chest as she trails her head slowly and lazily down the trail of his chest.<br><br>In but a moment, her cheek grazes the tip of his cock as she gently slips her face aside, letting his length brush along her face and his girth trail through her hair.&nbsp; She kisses the base of his shaft gently, then doesn't place her mouth against him again-- simply exhales and lets her hot breath caress him-- until her tongue dips out from her mouth to meet the base of his sac.&nbsp; She trails it slow in a long, cat-like lap, and draws it up the seam of his testes until it finds the base of his cock and paints a spot marking the base of him, then she turns her face aside and opens her mouth as wide as she can.&nbsp; She wets her lips, rests them, apart, on either side of his shaft, and finds she can scarcely wrap half of his girth in her lips.&nbsp; Still... the taste of him is enticing, and she murmurs wordlessly in appreciation at the remnant musk and soft skin over hardened tissue.<br><br>One thing she never would have expected is that, for a man of this length and girth, she has the opportunity fo involve more of herself in appreciation of that part of him, and knowing that there's a part of him that can appreciate that contact all the more... so, she does.&nbsp; She wraps her hands around his length like she's found some ancient idol while drifting in the sea, and she uses it to steady herself and keep herself from drifting away.&nbsp; She writhes up along his toned leg, curling her foot around his calf and steadying her body with that leverage, and with a flick of her soft hair she tosses the coppery curtain aside and begins to lap and kiss up his length toward his head, giving gentle, pumping squeezes, and encases the tip of him with her mouth in a slow, wet kiss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>14-03-2019, 02:32:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre watched her expression of surprise grow, as she began to free his member, with amusement. It wasn't the first time he had seen that expression cross a woman's face when coming face-to-face with his manhood. It wasn't photogenic because of the size of his body, but he must admit it looked great when it was close to a petite woman. "jaaaysus christ..." Imre chuckled a bit at that. Another reaction that was common. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Imre, please, don't be upset, but... I'm not sure I can handle this." He smiled softly at her knowing that she wasn't saying that to stop what was happening but out of surprise. "But... I'm going to try." Imre would have just been silent, but a phrase popped into his head and he couldn't help but spout it off softly. "If, at first, you don't succeed..."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;"Just...be gentle with me.&nbsp; I'm... not invulnerable." He reached down to lift her chin and make her look at him. " I was going to be gentle even if you had asked me not to. I don't want to actually break you. I want both of us to enjoy this. Besides, I know my strength better than you."<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;His head dropped back as she sent sensation after sensation through his member. He was clearly enjoying the whole process, but just to make sure, he spoke up anyways. "You seem to know what you're doing, Miss Jackson." It was at that point that she started stroking him and a gravelly hum of appreciation came from his chest. As she took the head of his member into her mouth, he groaned for the first time, before his head came up and he stared down at her. His hands reaching down to scoop up her ginger locks and hold it behind her head, allowing him to clearly see what she was doing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>17-03-2019, 01:07:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>With her hair held aside, Imre is able to see clearly that her mouth ensconces his head, and he can feel her jaw open wide so that her tongue can slide itself along the underside, tracing the heart-shaped parting of the tip while her hands steady the base of him carefully.&nbsp; Her first touches are firm but gentle, as if learning to find the right angles and positions to hold him, to let him enter her mouth, and to explore his size and shape acceptingly before letting herself be fully immersed in the experience.&nbsp; She seems to find that angle, somewhere between caressing and squeezing his balls against the base of his shaft with one palm, and testing the resting angle of his erection with her mouth and hands, and positions herself over his thighs to meet him.&nbsp; The saliva in her mouth flows a bit more freely at the experience as her tongue roams the now-slick surface, and her head pivots clock-wise and counter to share the wet-velvet sensations of her inner mouth with that point of contact.<br><br>Then, when they're both comfortable-- his hips tilted forward enough to give her a chance at him-- she folds one arm over his lower belly to support herself, and begins to bob her head gently, slowly... her lips tighten as she lifts, causing them to trail up the length of him, then ease as she lowers her face a few inches, filling her mouth to the tip of her throat as she exhales through her nose.&nbsp; His length and girth give her much to... aspire to... but she is brave about it, and wants to know his pleasure, so her remaining hand strokes up his thick base to oppose her sucking thrusts in gentle, twisting pumps.&nbsp; Soon, she's at a moderate, ambitiously steady pace, her breath coming deep and fast when she can steal it around his shaft, and her breasts bob with the steady pulse of the pistoning motion, stretched a bit from her chest as they are.&nbsp; <br><br>Her blue eyes flutter open, seeking his, through the thick, mascaraed lashes.&nbsp; A faint flush tinges her cheeks, making her freckles all the darker along her ivory flesh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>21-03-2019, 19:41:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>Imre closed his eyes with a soft sigh as he reveled in the sensations of pleasure that rushed up his length like electricity. He hadn't had many women willing to brave the 'massive brute' that was his swollen member. She was neither the best nor the worst, nor was she even the one who took the most, but for some reason or another, she was the most seductive by far. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;The gentle, but firm touch of her hands and the wet warmth from her mouth were doing a number on him as his lower body almost felt like it was going numb, but not quite. He wished he could grab her breasts as he watched them sway and bounce, drawing his eyes like a hypnotist's pendulum, but with one hand propping him up and the other holding her hair, it wasn't happening. He'd either have to let go of her hair and lose sight of what she was doing, or sit up enough so he wouldn't have to prop himself up. With her staring up to him he didn't want to do the first, but the second would throw her off her rhythm and make it awkward to continue. So, he contented himself with the view and the sensations, knowing he'd get to touch them sooner or later.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;As her eyes caught his, he held them unwavering, he loved seeing the blush cross her face. He especially liked it because the freckles produced a nice contrast to bothe the flush and her pale skin. He smiled down to her before speaking. "Let me know when you're ready for me to return the favor. I want to let you feel what I'm feeling now."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ixy</strong> on <strong>23-03-2019, 08:13:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/zB1pHVO.jpg?1)</div>&nbsp; <br>The wetness in Jax's mouth is building as she begins to pump his shaft in a semi-circular motion with her hand, stroking his lower belly with her fingers teasingly as she settles into a steadying and increasing rhythm with her head and tongue against that pace and works her neck and shoulders to delve his girth deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mouth and throat, leaving his shaft glistening as she begins to suck him off with an increasing determination and enjoyment.&nbsp; She smiles at his words and pauses at his head, emitting a few hot breaths across the crown of him as she catches her breath and lets her tongue work the ridge of his flared head for a moment while she watches, seeming curiously satisfied that his enjoyment is... adequate...? and swallows a mouthful of her saliva mixed with his pre-cum.&nbsp; "Not to be... scientific..." she says... managing, with her Scots lilt to make the words actually sound... well?... rather seductive... "but I expect what I feel is very different, in a..." and she interrupts the sentence with a delicate and teasing kiss at his glans, "...very feminine, and..." and another kiss, then a lap at the slit at the tip of his cock, so she can taste his pre-cum more boldly, "wonderful way... but... isn't that the beauty of it?"&nbsp; and at that she smiles, nuzzling her cheek against the side of his shaft like a precious gift, before placing her lips at the tip and, in a long, sudden delve, swallowing as much of his length as she can handle-- almost (but not all) of his length disappearing into her mouth and throat as she silently mouths and kisses his length before withdrawing all the way to the tip for a long, wet kiss that leaves a warm, wet coating of saliva to glisten along his length.<br><br>"There are condoms in the dresser, if you want" she says with a soft voice, then climbs beside him, turning her hips to look alongside the length of her body, her ass coming close enough to let him see both hemispheres of her curved and toned rear.&nbsp; "But you don't <i>have</i> to use one.&nbsp; You're clean, and I am too, and I can't get pregnant."&nbsp; She then begins to stroke his length with her hands, up and down to meet in the middle of his length, then brushes her lips over his tip again as she strokes him.&nbsp; "Just... so you know that, before you take me.&nbsp; But you can take me."&nbsp; Her eyes haze over lustily as she studies him, and she laps gently at his head before she parts her thighs just a bit near him, letting him position her-- or take control-- however he wishes.&nbsp; "It's up to you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Take a Stand - Imre's and Jackson's Side Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>arthenwel</strong> on <strong>26-03-2019, 23:15:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://aestheticmuscleclub.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/tim-gabel-4-17.jpg)</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Imre chuckled at her response. "True enough. And here I thought words were <em>MY</em> strong suit." He sucked in a sharp breath as she shot down and deep throated his manhood almost all the way. His eyes rolled back as the sensation hit him like a wave crashing along a beach. When he could focus his eyes again, he watched her as she explained the situation, only looking away to look at the dresser she was referring to. However, as she opened her legs to position herself, he got a devilish grin. He grabbed her and twisted his body in one sharp, sudden movement until her shoulders were on the bed, hips up and him between her legs. He pushed her legs down, curling her back and using his weight and body to prevent her from being able to move anything but her arms. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He then looked her in the eyes as he gently and softly kissed her thighs. "I told you I wanted to return the favor. Did you think I would fuck you without taking care of your needs?" As he said this, he gently bit her inner thigh a few inches from her mound. He'd noticed that some women loved this from his past lovers. His hands slid lightly up her thighs, around her shapely ass, and down her sides until his hands were caressing her breasts. <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;He gently ran his thumb over the swelling buds that were her nipples, teasing her the whole time. He would kiss along her thigh until he got close to her glistening lips before repeating on the other legs. Then, he would kiss around her swollen nethers, never quite touching them. Every now and again, he would even lightly lick along her folds, just barely touching them with his tongue.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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