look what's hiding under the bed.

[Daileh Few]

shirt | bottoms | shoes

Of course, everyone had their own little past times. Some had sports, computer bull shit, and most boys had porn. But little Dai had her weird ol' murderous stuff. But it was sort of a, you know, bad habit, the compulsive killings. So she had to develop other habits. Maybe that was why she'd broken into Mort's dorm room.

Sitting on the boys dorm bed, the petite thing was staring out the window, watching the gray and blue sky. There's nothing to do. No one to kill. With a silent huff, she plopped down onto the black sheets (skillfully ignoring the stains, mind you) and turned onto her stomach to peek under the bed. "Ew. Mort, you're a pig," she murmured, lifting up the underwear.

But please, like she was just there for the hell of it? She had her reasons, of course. Okay, so she didn't completely trust Mort, but why should she? There was Xio, and Kjara, and Jay, and Cara (sorta) and who knew how many other girls. So hey, let's look for some stuff. A journal maybe? Or a box of used condoms. Why anyone would have a box of used condoms was beyond her, but hey that wasn't her business. However, it was grounds for confrontation. In a 'Mort, what the hell?' sort of way.

"What the hell, Morty, you're so boring. Where are you, anyways? And where's your journal. I wanna read it. I know you've got one, I've seen you writing in it before you. I'm not daft man." Dropping down to the floor, the green eyed monster crept under the bed with a soft growl. Now she was getting frustrated by the fact that she couldn't find that damned book. "Where is it?"

[Mortimer Edison]

Sure, Mort was an evil, mass-murdering demon who liked to fuck, but at the end of the day he was still a boy. A dirty, grotty, messy boy who left his underwear all over his room and casually experimented with other peoples' vital organs. However, unfortunately for Dai, Mort wasn't stupid enough to leave his journal in his room unguarded. As the girl searched around under the bed, a tiny black snake snuck its way from behind some drawers and out through the gap under the front door. A second later the door slowly creaked open to reveal the demon, a sly smirk on his lips. He crept over to the girl's backside temptingly sticking out from under his bed and gave it a playful squeeze, then tugged on it, dragging his visitor out and into the open. He then lifted her up and tossed her onto the bed like a rag doll, watching her land with a large bounce.

"Nice a-- pants," he crooned, hastily correcting himself. "You put those on for me?" He smirked and sat down to the girl, checking out the rest of her body. "Y'know, the last time I caught someone snooping in my room they became a carpet. Fuckin' shifters," he added with a hiss, sliding along the bed closer to his girlfriend. "...Still, her sense of fashion wasn't nearly as good as yours. She was more of a fur kinda girl." As he spoke his face came closer and closer to hers until he could feel her breath on his lips, then he suddenly moved down to her neck, which he kissed as gently as he would a baby. Well, a baby he didn't plan to eat. "So. What're you doin' here, Dai? If this was a booty call you probably wouldn't be leaving your ass sticking out in the air for the world to see. ...Unless you like it like that." He grinned mischievously up at her for a split second before sinking his teeth into her neck, too light to break the skin but hard enough for it to send tingles down her spine.
[Told you it'd be crap. :/]

[Daileh Few]

Okay, somebody was about to get slapped upside the head. Dai did not tolerate being thrown on beds, plain and simple. Well, not when it wasn’t part of her plan. By all means, let her warm you up and then give it a shot; you’ll only be helping the cause. But this was completely different. Couldn’t he tell she was looking for something? …Oh. Right. Made more sense now. Damn demons—they always seem to know, somehow.

With a sly smile, Daileh scooted away from the demon, tugging the oversized and too long sweater down, as it should’ve been. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she murmured, stubbornly crossing her arm. Of course, she was lying through her teeth. “I mean, that’s not what I’m here for in the first place.” With a slight blush rising to her cheeks, she pushed the boy away before he could bite any harder. Green eyes scanning him, she moved into his lap, legs wrapping around him—skin tight black fabric and all. “Soo, Moortyy,” pouting, she gave him a peck on the cheek. Hell, maybe her ‘magic’ would work on him. Even if it wouldn’t, there were tricks to breaking down ones will.

“Where’s that journal of yours?”

[It's not crap. You're crap. : D]

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[Mortimer Edison]

If this had happened two weeks prior, Mort would've given the girl his journal in an instant. He probably would've even restrained himself until she gave him a clear invitation to plow her fields for the first time. However, this wasn't happening two weeks ago, it was happening now, and Mort no longer had any little angels on his shoulder telling him 'no'.

The second she sat in his lap his hands latched onto her ass and gave it another, harder, squeeze as he smirked up at her. "Shut up." He fell back onto the bed, pulling her down with him, then quickly rolled over on top of the girl before she could pin him, a somewhat evil element now in his smirk. He kissed her hard on the lips as his right hand began to wander away from her ass and slid underneath her top, which was sort of ugly, but her pants more than made up for it. After a few moments he broke the kiss and locked his blue-green eyes with hers. "Why have a stupid book when you can have me?" He said, channeling all of his charisma into that one question, before quietly adding "I've been waiting for this for so long."

Something inside Mort had a very strong feeling that this advance would end very badly, but he ignored it. After all, he was just a teenage boy, and all teenage boys have an insatiable need to fuck things.

[Daileh Few]

Why have a stupid book when you can have me?
What kind of question was that? If she wanted it, she got it. That was Daileh's number one rule. If she wanted Mort, she'd have him. And if she wanted the journal, she'd get that too. Fortunately, she wanted the journal a hell of a lot more than she wanted Mort.

So, in one fluid motion she lifted herself up and off the bed some, carefully sliding down the bed and right through the demon's legs, teeth gliding over the crotch of his pants as she did so. What? It was the number one way to get what she wanted. Sex, that is. "Well then get ready to wait a little longer," she hummed, ignoring the shirt that had slid off in the process of escaping him. "At least until I get what I want."

That whole lack of sex thing though, that was driving her insane. By now the mimes wouldn't touch her just because they thought it was funny to watch her squirm. And for some mysterious reason, any help she'd gotten from man made machines had been "lost" in the depths of who knew where. It wasn't fair--first the loss of the ability to masturbate and now the loss of the ability to fuck the ready and willing boy in front of you. Why? Because she was too stubborn to demand him to get up, drop his trousers and get on his knees.

[Mortimer Edison]

...Fuck.

Here was a topless Dai with her mouth mere inches away from Mort's crotch. How was he supposed to say no to this? Cheater. He chewed on his lip as he looked down into the girl's puppy-dog eyes staring hopefully up at him. His eyes were then drawn to her lips, and he was broken, though he made a mental note to make sure he got her back for this torture.

"Fuck you," he sighed, collapsing on the bed. A drawer creaked open and a shadowy hand emerged, grasping a black, leather-bound book that seemed to be as old as the castle. In the first hundred pages there were ancient drawings and messy scrawlings in an unknown language, but towards the middle was Mort's journal. What she hoped to find in it the demon had no idea-- well, actually, that wasn't really true. He knew exactly what she was trying to find - some kind of tally of the girls he'd won at Winterthorne, as well as an indication of how much Dai really meant to him. In the latter case he had nothing to worry about. After all, he did love her (well, as much as a demon without a heart could love another demon). But in the first few entries, Dai wasn't exactly the main subject. His genitals depended on her being too distracted with what he wrote about her to worry about the other garbage.

The hand stretched out to the girl, revealing an arm as black as the night, riddled with neon red veins. It passed the book to her, opened it to the start of Mort's journal, then retreated back into the drawer. Mort shook his head, sighed and looked up at the ceiling as he rubbed his temple. "I don't know what you think is in there," he started, with that same old lie, "but there you go. Ignore the first few hundred pages, the book's sort of a hand-me-down."
[Yeah, not really all that happy with it, but there you go.]

[Daileh Few]

Eyes widening as the shadow reached for the journal, Dai looked and felt every bit like a child in a candy shop. Every bit the glutton for a good secret or two as she was for a good murder or five, greedy hands made grabbing motions for a good two seconds before something hit her. It just wasn't right. She couldn't strike a deal without making sure the other person got something out of it. It was like a dealer with cocaine--you at least had to do them right once so you could keep them coming back.

"I should at least put something up," she mumbled as she tucked the book under her arm, praying it wouldn't fall apart. Still shirtless, she went for the bag she'd stored on the foot of the bed, pulling the crisp white and gray polka-dot and plastic bound journal from the sack and tossing it to Mort. "It'll keep you busy while I read yours, I guess. Good luck reading my writing." Though in all honesty, that was pure sarcasm. Sure, it was chicken scratch, but that was a chicken with good penmanship.

Slipping down to sit on the floor, she started out skimming through things, soon completely enthralled. What was this about killing Ezra? And Jackson. And nailing Tia? And pretty much everyone else? And who in their right mind would wanna fuck Sammii? He was too adorable and had a knack for making Ezra look like a pedophile. However, the "mort<3'sdai" thing was just precious. Almost made everything else forgivable actually. Finding the page to be probably the stupidest (and sweetest, but keep that on the down low) things she'd ever seen, she let out a giggle. Which, if you asked her, never happened.

(Edited Bren. Stop whining. <3)

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[Mortimer Edison]

There he was, innocently staring at the ceiling, trying with all his might to control his hormones, when a polka-dot, plastic-covered book landed on his face. Hard. She totally did that on purpose.

Bitch.

Slightly disgruntled, he picked up the book, sat up, and flipped through the pages. It didn't take him long to figure out what it was. For some reason Dai seemed to think that he wanted to read her diary. Fuck no. She didn't honestly expect him to concentrate on reading when all his blood had rushed to a place nowhere near his head, did she? No, she was teasing him on purpose, just because she knew it would get to him. She was totally doing it on purpose.

Bitch.

Desperately wanting to prove her wrong, he took a closer look at the first few entries. Then he noticed something odd. Feeling a mixture of surprise and confusion, he quickly skimmed some more pages, and rapidly became even more surprised, but also slightly amused. He was mentioned in every single entry he read. He may have been despised in some, but that didn't matter. He was still there. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He was touched.

Then he realised something that sickened him. As he carefully read through the girl's diary, it occurred to him that he said he loved her way too much. Even more than a 14 year old girl with her new boyfriend. More than two mentally and socially retarded 12 year olds (let's call them Ichi and Bart) dating over the internet. And that sickened him more than anything. Still, that was when he had Ezra's heart, so he couldn't be blamed entirely, right?

His self-loathing was interrupted by a child-like giggle, and he instantly knew what the girl had just read. "Hey Dai, remind me not to say so much stupid shit about being in love. I don't think it suits me." Mort knew that she had laughed just to piss him off. She totally did that on purpose.

Bitch.
[Maybe I should get depressed more often? I think it inspires me.
Also, yeah, it's shit, but what's new? <3]

[Daileh Few]

What a douche.
Everything written either made her mad or made her blush. Neither was a good thing. The bastard. No, she didn't like it when anyone had that much of an impact. It was that stupid human side of her taking control, that was the only explanation.

"You're right," turning through the last few pages of material she glanced over to him, snapping the book shut. "It doesn't suit you at all. But hey, fair trade."
Lazily, she tossed the heavy journal towards him, this time with every intent on hitting him. This time it was on purpose, bitch. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he deserved it in one way or another.

Bored with the journal and the slightly-sappy moment, Dai crept up the bed and sat herself in the boys lap, wiggling her shoes off quickly. "What I mean is, you do the same to me, and I hate it too, so it's fair." In some sick way at least. It at least made a little sense. She'd been acting weird and freaky ever since that prick came into town. Gee, thanks. He completely fucked her over royally.
"Do you think there's a way to make me not half human?" She'd just about spit it out, hardly even thinking about the question.

It was totally all his fault she had to go and feel things. It was all his fault. Bastard. Quickly, she grabbed the journal back, pretending to check something for a split second before throwing it back at him--hopefully harder this time. A nice fat bruise would be lovely.

[HAHA Ichi and Bart. <3 Ohdang.
And it's not fucking shit, you tit.]

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