Colt
Cold nights, a sleight of hand
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end
No trace of innocence, long gone, long gone
I've been tangled up, I've been wrangling up heathens
I've been double-cupped neck-up in the deep end
The moment Hotaru picks up her goad and sends it home, Colt is assured of this unexpected alliance. She could still be played, she supposes, the Valkyrie angling for the long game to make her drop her defenses and land a clean pounce later. A believable end, if Hotaru means to lash out at anyone connected to Sunjata, not that there's sense to it, but when have broken hearts ever made sense? Colt would wager that's not the case though, and while she ordinarily isn't the type to gamble, she's in such a state of ruin that placing bets hardly seems the worst to happen now. If Hotaru wanted to hurt her, there's far easier ways to go about it than buttering her hands on a man's unwashed head. This is a show of friendship in force, and Colt means to make the most of it.
"Thaaaaat's more like it," Colt praises, because gods know men need their ego stroked near as much as their dick. Not that the cheat needs much more revving up, but it's enough bluster to make the rest of the table fold. Something is happening here, they can tell, and though they're not wise to Hotaru, they want no part of the showdown that's lining itself up across the table. Working her smile out around the curve of her filter, Colt leans in on a hand, her wrist folding neatly beneath her chin. She slides her own full earnings forward, and the dealer finishes setting out the river. She happens to have a decent hand, her threat about getting him as much show as truth. He'd normally have backed down from such confidence, kept his winnings in his lap, but with Hotaru's pressure, he's risked it all.
Colt clicks her tongue as she turns her cards over, fanning out a straight flush. He could still beat her, but she can already see by the shadow in his eyes, that she's got him. Two pair, as sad as the balls shrinking up between his thighs. "Oh, that means I won, huh?" Colt dabs off her cigarette in her drink, chair sliding back with the grind of wood on stone as she stands up. Leaning over the table to reap her rewards, and all of his for that matter, she can't bite back the lopsided grin that tugs at her. "Been a pleasure, boys," she drawls, gaze lifting to the Valkyrie.
Maybe that's what set off the spark in him. Maybe it always would have come to a tantrum for one used to rigging and getting away with it. But in a blink the lousy cheat is upsetting Hotaru to leap across the table. Colt suspected as much, but she didn't glimpse the grab coming from her side, the man she'd blatantly ignored earlier. A friend of his, maybe, or just an opportunist to grab some tit when the shit blows up. Either way, Colt's laid out on the ground with enough force to rob her of breath, but that hardly dulls the surge to fight back. Her legs swing around, not to free herself, but to clamp down around the brute holding her, spurs digging in hard and rolling up with a viciousness she's only ever saved for the two-legged. It's enough to send him howling and folding like a shrimp, allowing her to gasp and grasp for some ground.
"Thaaaaat's more like it," Colt praises, because gods know men need their ego stroked near as much as their dick. Not that the cheat needs much more revving up, but it's enough bluster to make the rest of the table fold. Something is happening here, they can tell, and though they're not wise to Hotaru, they want no part of the showdown that's lining itself up across the table. Working her smile out around the curve of her filter, Colt leans in on a hand, her wrist folding neatly beneath her chin. She slides her own full earnings forward, and the dealer finishes setting out the river. She happens to have a decent hand, her threat about getting him as much show as truth. He'd normally have backed down from such confidence, kept his winnings in his lap, but with Hotaru's pressure, he's risked it all.
Colt clicks her tongue as she turns her cards over, fanning out a straight flush. He could still beat her, but she can already see by the shadow in his eyes, that she's got him. Two pair, as sad as the balls shrinking up between his thighs. "Oh, that means I won, huh?" Colt dabs off her cigarette in her drink, chair sliding back with the grind of wood on stone as she stands up. Leaning over the table to reap her rewards, and all of his for that matter, she can't bite back the lopsided grin that tugs at her. "Been a pleasure, boys," she drawls, gaze lifting to the Valkyrie.
Maybe that's what set off the spark in him. Maybe it always would have come to a tantrum for one used to rigging and getting away with it. But in a blink the lousy cheat is upsetting Hotaru to leap across the table. Colt suspected as much, but she didn't glimpse the grab coming from her side, the man she'd blatantly ignored earlier. A friend of his, maybe, or just an opportunist to grab some tit when the shit blows up. Either way, Colt's laid out on the ground with enough force to rob her of breath, but that hardly dulls the surge to fight back. Her legs swing around, not to free herself, but to clamp down around the brute holding her, spurs digging in hard and rolling up with a viciousness she's only ever saved for the two-legged. It's enough to send him howling and folding like a shrimp, allowing her to gasp and grasp for some ground.
They all know it's the wrong road
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker
But they still go, they still go
Fucking long days getting longer
And the dark days getting darker
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
