Games [Feliks, Siu Lung, and Yao]

[ugh fail writing OTL]

Feliks let his head lean backwards onto the cushion of his seat, lifting a bit of the tension from his neck. The blinding amber glow of the lights above him let white spots sparkle across his vision as he looked up, letting the distinct smell of alcohol rise up from his breath. It had been a busy night, with each client making their way quickly in and out of his private booth at the club and each one paying him quite handsomely. Perhaps they were in a hurry or perhaps it was the sight of a grown man in a school girl’s outfit. Tugging at the mini skirt that had begun to rise up his thighs, Feliks stole a glance at the amount of money next to him, estimating that it was around 75,000HKD. “This is totally enough to get me by for , like, a week at least,” he thought before running his fingertips over the bills. Instantly, the amount quadrupled along with the size of Feliks’ grin. “Well, let’s make that, like, a month.”

Glancing at the watch that rested loosely to his lanky wrist Feliks guessed his next client would show up in the next half hour. Not only was his next client from the Division, he was also the lucky bastard that would get caught up in Feliks’ games. Feliks found his client from the Division the most interesting as well as the most informative; however, none ever held the information he desired or rather, they just wouldn’t give it to them. If he pressed them on he would usually have a gun kissing the side of his head. It was no matter to him, he merely would shift it into some goofy object and the powerless goons would give up. They were the most boring and the most predictable.

The clients with powers, on the other hand, were the ones Feliks found the most interesting. Some would call him a masochist for practically seeking out situations that ailed his mind and body, but to Feliks, it was repentance. He wondered what type of person would be the next player and if he could last in the little game that Feliks had planned. The chess board had been set as a table lined with shots of alcohol. The game had already begun.


[gayness with a side of drunken adventure go!]

Furtively glancing about as he entered the club, Siu Lung was on a hunt. A hunt for information. He had heard that a certain person would be here, someone who could tell him exactly what was going on; for a price. Reluctantly going through his wallet, he took out a wad of bills. The information wasn’t going to be cheap, but this was urgent. The secretive higher-ups of the Division refused to reveal any details about the happenings, so he was on his own. Despite being an officer with a high position, that schemer of a boss still didn’t trust him enough to unveil to him the Divisions’ secrets. The odor of alcohol and loud voices surrounded him as he made his way toward the informant’s booth.

Siu Lung was greeted by an odd sight as he entered the booth. The person sitting there certainly wasn’t what he expected. Lounging in the seat was a young blonde male dressed in neither a suit nor casual clothes, but a blouse and miniskirt. Flushing, Siu Lung began to stutter, “I-I’m sorry, I must have gotten the wrong person.”

The curtain of the booth slid open, revealing an Asian youth with a stern face that quickly flushed with innocence and embarrassment. Feliks grinned; the taboo that adorned him would provoke such a reaction from most people. He had already gone as far as to prop his feet up on the rib of the table, opening up areas that could be revealed if one was not careful where their eyes wandered.

““I-I’m sorry, I must have gotten the wrong person,” stuttered the flushing teen.

“Dude, don’t be. I’m Feliks and at your service, like, for totally a price that is,” said Feliks with something like a chortle. He was already finding the youth to be quite interesting. To be quite honest, he hadn’t expected a person granted powers and from the Division with a soul still in their name. At least not of those who’d sink low enough to pay him a visit instead of jumping him in a dark alley way. In his experience, violence was the Division’s first choice. It was rare to find those who’d come to him with reward in hand but that’s what made them the most interesting.

“Now then, let’s cut to the chase, boy-oh. I so totally don’t want your damn money, so, like, hold onto your wallet. Like, if you wanna’ know something, you’re totally gonna’ have to pass two out of three tests,” said Feliks while smirking and waving three fingers in the air before practically jumping out his reclining position. With one hand on his hip and another playing with his hair, Feliks turned to the youth in front of him and in a most serious tone he said, “For your first test… Do you think I’m pretty?”

His ears and eyes must be failing him. Not only was the informant cross-dressing, he had refused the money and asked,
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
Siu Lung had spent his whole life training in the Division, but out of everything he had experienced, nothing came close to what this man was asking. Most of the people he had dealt with melted at the sight of money. This guy, he was an odd one. What does this bastard want? Siu Lung could always threaten him with his powers, but he was trying to be subtle. Attracting attention was the worst thing that could happen, and if he was discovered, the boss would have his head for sure.

Siu Lung supposed that the only way to wrench an answer out of Feliks was to answer his question. Swallowing his pride, he risked a cursory glance at the teen sitting across from him. Well, he had to admit, Feliks had a handsome face, clever green eyes and wide smirk seemingly mocking him. Siu Lung’s eyes traveled downwards…and stopped. Reddening, he quickly turned his head away. Not only was Feliks wearing a miniskirt, he was sitting in a very improper way, to say the least. What am I getting myself into? thought Siu Lung. If the first test already had him blushing and at a loss for words, what could the other two have in store for him?
Sighing, he reluctantly replied, “U-um, yes, I think you’re pretty.”

(Someone kill me now.)

[Sorry it took so long to reply <A<]

“U-um, yes, I think you’re pretty.”

With that having been said, Feliks let out a ferocious laugh. He couldn’t believe that his client had gone along with him and actually said yes and with a furious blush, at that! He had easily failed his first test and it came with a price.

“Haha, dude! Seriously? I’m totally glad you think so. Since I’m, like, such a nice person, I’ll help you out.” Feliks snickered this at the teen before him before leaving his seat and pushing his client down onto the seat behind him. As uncomfortable as he was with someone who had just been a stranger to him moments ago, a person’s embarrassment was the strongest liquor to him.

The scene was suggestive with Feliks hovering over the man with the most evocative smirk he could pull off. Feliks gazed at his client’s raw umber eyes while he let his hand wander onto the youth’s thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before leaning to his ear and whispering, “I think you look, like, a lot prettier like this. By the way, you so failed the first test.”

Feliks quickly fell backwards into his own seat and admired his hand work. In front of him now was his client with a blush red enough to match the carmine skirt that now adorned him. The trousers the youth had walked in wearing wouldn’t change back to normal for a good number of days.


[Not rape : D]

At this point, Siu Lung was getting uncomfortable. Feliks had invaded his personal space, his hand on the teen's leg. Startled by Feliks' touch, he felt his face redden yet again.
"Get away from me and don't touch me, you pervert," he said, shifting away from Feliks. It was only then that he realized that he was no longer wearing the black pants he had arrived in; instead, a crimson skirt had replaced it. He almost died from shock.

This was the first time in many years that Siu Lung had snapped. He had had enough of Feliks’ games, and he certainly wasn’t going to suffer through this embarrassment. The tension in the atmosphere rose as, quivering with anger, Siu Lung slowly stood up, taking out a lighter in the process.
“Who do you think you are? Are you aware that I, Cheng Siu Lung, am a prominent officer of the Asian Division?” he hissed. Igniting the lighter, he maneuvered the flame toward Feliks, the alcohol nearby erupting into flames.

“Enough of your games. If you don’t want to end up as a piece of charcoal, you’ll tell me what I came here for. And change this damn skirt back into my pants. I know you‘re a Shifter, and powerful at that. So do it. No word of this gets out to anyone, understand?” The enraged Asian didn’t want to cause a commotion; hopefully the thought of death by burning would scare Feliks enough for him to spill the beans.

[Sorry, got caught up with stuff.]

Feliks was a bit appalled to be referred to as a pervert but was given little chance to throw out his rebuttal. Before he could even open his mouth Feliks found a lighter being motioned dangerously close to him as well as some of his shots becoming a fuel source. The teen before him barked threats and Feliks only caught his name selectively. The danger of the situation didn’t slip by him but Feliks wasn’t ready to let a few fireworks get in his way.

“So you’re like Siu Lung, right? Dude, you should see your face right now it’s like, priceless! It’d be so grody if I like, turned into charcoal, like to the max. But you wouldn’t get to know like, what you want to know if you did that, dude.” Feliks replied in less than a breath. “And as if! That skirt is so totally bitchin’. Besides, it’s your fault for failing, like totes.”

Leaning back into his seat and away from Siu Lung’s lighter, Feliks pressed a finger to his lips and gave a good thought about what his next move would be. Clearly the enraged Asian was not in the mood to be toyed with but after such an experience no one would. “Tell ya’ what? We’ll totally skip test two. Is that like, fair enough? If you like, win test three I’ll change your pants back and like, give you your info.”

Without waiting for a response Feliks continued, “Anyways, test three is like, so a drinking game. Not really like a game but like, we drink until one of us totally passes out. Got any questions?”

He stopped a few feet from the club's entrance, letting the door slip from his slender grasp as he gazed about searchingly for the booth where he was supposed to meet that person. Gone were the sounds of vehicles noisily making their way down over-crowded streets, of people--fewer than usual, given the area and time of night--chattering, yelling, laughing, and the miscellaneous sounds that made up the music of his adopted city, replaced with quieter murmurings punctuated by the occasional obnoxiously loud laugh and a booming techno rhythm from the speakers next to him. His nose instantly wrinkled upwards at the overpowering scent of alcohol coupled with fainter tinges of smoke, and he almost almost raised a red silk-clad wrist to cover it. Despite employing the substance in many of his dishes, the sheer concentration of it was enough to make him cringe. It was a wonder that his contact (or was "informant" a better term? He had no idea) worked here. Then again, when he thought about it, the location made more sense, given the fact that people were more likely to reveal information they normally hide when sober. Still, he felt out of place, as if his traditional silk top, already earning stares from the pedestrians on the street, was completely foreign to this place of drinking, forgetting, and in his case, learning.

After some minutes of gazing about the empty booths (if the parted curtains were any indication), he settled on approaching the only one that seemed to be occupied. His step was light against the wooden floor riddled with glass shards, discarded cigarettes (some still faintly smoking where they lay), and unidentifiable liquids with his hand was tucked protectively into the pockets of his black slacks, gripping his Shinatty-chan wallet as both a way of comforting the fluttering sensation that had invaded his stomach and to ensure that someone would have a harder time trying to steal it. About to enter, the sounds of enraged voices, muffled by the thick velvet drape in front of him, stopped his hand a few inches away from the cloth. Perhaps he should wait a few minutes? Then again, with a quick glance at his Shinatty-chan wristwatch to confirm that it was indeed his appointed time, he really did have a right to enter... at least, he hoped. Inhaling deeply and murmuring a quick prayer, Yao opened the curtain. The sight that greeted him was shocking, to say the least.

"P-p-per-perhaps I am in the wrong place, aru?"

Two individuals sat before him amidst a table filled with glasses and alcoholic beverages, some of which were currently aflame--the lighter clasped almost threateningly in one red-faced occupant's hand was probably the reason. He felt his face heat up in what could only be embarrassment when he realized that both males were wearing skirts, of all things. While it wasn’t that uncommon at the local “Comic World” convention held two times a year, cross-dressing was generally a social taboo… At least, unless he was in one of those places…

His mouth opened to ask if the person known as “Feliks” was present, only to discover that his jaw was slack and his throat refused to vocalize the thought. He must have seemed like a dumb, naïve idiot to these two men, and he swallowed thickly before muttering a curse in Cantonese under his breath, before asking, in a voice that shook and stuttered even more than before, if his informant, one individual named Feliks, was indeed one of the men seated before him.

[I had to practically strangle my muse to get the latter part of this done. Please pardon this feeble excuse of a post. >.< Still... XD My charrie's so fun to torture. XD]

A drinking game? It wasn’t what Siu Lung had expected, but at least it would finish things up without a commotion. Although he didn’t enjoy drinking, he had drunk his fair share of alcohol at dinner events and such; it was considered good manners to get drunk when alcohol was offered. It was also glaringly obvious that Feliks was a foreigner, and wouldn’t have much experience with the Chinese liquor served at the bar. Just as he was about to consent to Feliks’ challenge, an Asian man wearing a traditional red qipao burst into the booth.

The only thing Siu Lung could do was stare at the newcomer. Judging from the accent on his Cantonese when he cursed earlier, the man was a mainlander. He had long, dark hair tied into a ponytail and a feminine face that seemed…almost familiar. Odd. But, Siu Lung shook the thought from his mind; a more pressing matter was at hand. He had been discovered wearing a skirt and lighting things on fire by a complete stranger! At least it seemed that the intruder was not just an ordinary person; to seek out Feliks was evidence enough to suggest that the mainlander was not normal.

(Just in case anyone doesn't know, mainlander is the term for people from the mainland China, and not HK or Taiwan.)

Feliks quickly turned his head toward the sound of the booth’s opening curtain. He was about to shoo whatever waitress might have been trying to disturb them except he was greeted with a slender Asian man instead. His lips twitched into a smirk at the man’s confused face. Upon being questioned if he was present, he pointed a finger at himself and slid further back into the semi-circular benches in order to make more room for their new guest.

“Nah man, you’re like, in the right place.” Feliks had completely forgotten about this client’s appointment from the sheer excitement of having a Division member coming to him from out of the blue. “Sorry, totally forgot ‘bout you, dude. Wang Yao, right?” Motioning his arm toward the space next to him, Feliks asked him to sit. It seemed like things would be getting more interesting this way. Drinking with company revealed secrets and secrets could make often enemies the closest of friends.

Without skipping a beat, Feliks continued on with no sympathy for Siu Lung’s current predicament and the fact that the worst had just befell him; however, he did hope that the younger man wouldn’t roast his second client in order to keep him quiet. No, the man didn’t know of his involvement with the Division so there was nothing to worry about.

With a sigh of relief, Feliks began, “Okay Wang-o Tango, looks like you’re gonna’ have to play too. Here’s like, the deal. I’ll tell you what you want if you last a drinking game with me. So if this dude or I pass out, you win. If you pass out, well, like, you totally lose.”

“Oh, and just for the record, this is like, Sobieski,” he added with a grin before grabbing the cup closest to him and taking the shot.


[OOC: Sorry guys, I'm going to be less active...I'll try my best to respond! Oh, and sorry again if this is crappy. I didn't have much time to write it. OTL]