Sweet Repose (SevenxPretty)

[sevenpercentsolution]

Darkness, reassuring darkness - it was the time that they all came out, the time when the conservative retreated into the relative safety of their gated, suburban homes and spent the evening inside while all of the creatures of the night would emerge and go on the prowl for the things it took to sate their appetites. Most of them were the sort that had traded in a life of normalcy for a life of night, preferring the filthy, uncomplicated lives that the street offered them; some of them did it because they realized that they could make more money illegally than they could make honestly. It was why every back alley, every side alley was littered with hookers of every shape, age, size, and colour - for a small fee they would give their client anything they wanted, fulfill their most twisted desires, and in return they would have the money to buy what they needed - what they craved.

Then there were the conservatives who stepped out of their homes just once in a while, shedding the life of a man with a wife and kids and a mortgage to pay, or leaving behind the husband so they could go in search of something darker that they could never ask their partner to provide. Everyone had a little darkness in them - what better way to get it out than with one of the willing, scantily clad hookers?

There were so many different kinds of freaks that were crawling the streets at night, all of them looking for the next hit, the next thrill, the next orgasm, the next thing to make them feel a little more alive, to drown out the apathy or to make them forget how deeply in debt they were - to forget that, perhaps, the Repo Man would be coming for them soon.

And in the end, they all ended up in one spot: in front of the Graverobber.

Sure, the girls offered a few minutes of blissful pleasure - something he had experienced a few times himself, and he had every respect for their tenured, uh, trade - but he provided so much more, he provided liquid relief injected directly into the nervous system and he was the best at what he did. There weren't a lot of dealers who lasted as long as Graverobber did; after a while, they all got shot by GENcops, caught in flangrante with their hand deep in a grave. Usually their careers were so short-lived that no one had ever bothered to assign names to them, but Graverobber had an uncanny knack for his job, he was possessed of a peculiar panache when it came to digging up his sources and avoiding the authorities. He had been doing it for years and he'd never even suffered a single bulletwound despite the fact he sometimes made a suicidal game of taunting them; he always got away unscathed.

And that was why they all came to him; if he had lived this long, he had to be good and there was a comfort for the junkies to come to the same guy again and again, and Graverobber made no attempts to scare them like some of the other drug dealers. In fact, he was friendly, agreeable even - because he had long ago learned that a calm customer was one that was likely to have a good trip, likely to come back to him.

Not that he needed to worry; these days his reputation had secured him a broad customer base, one that extended across the city and had hailed him as the most reliable source of their 21st century cure, Zydrate. Biologically produced, personally removed, Graverobber sold the good, raw stuff, not the watered down swill that GeneCo sold; Graverobber was practically the sole reason that the Zydrate Rehabilitation Program had been initiated - well, him and Amber Sweet. It had turned out that Rotti Largo wasn't a fan of being embarrassed by his precious little girl's repeated failures to show on stage, and he'd pushed her into the program, deciding that if she couldn't be the next face for GeneCo, she could be the fact for the drug centre.

And why not - she was so pumped full of Graverobber's product that he was sure she would bleed blue these days; some of them didn't know when to stop, and with her unlimited resources, Amber Sweet had been one of them.

But since the program had started, he hadn't seen Amber for a while, to the point where Graverobber even found himself questioning if, perhaps, she had actually managed to kick the Glow habit - he hadn't been concerned about the rehab program, those sorts of things never worked, but if a notorious junkie like Sweet could be convinced to give it up, he wondered what it meant for some of the others.

But on that particular night, it was clearer than ever that his business wasn't about to run out; it had been a steady evening, and he'd had to turn to his back-up stockpile of Z to cover the demand - he still had a few vials, but it was going down at such a rapid rate that he was sure he would have to go for a second round in the mass grave that night. Though for now, he found himself satisfied by the situation; he was in one of his favourite backalleys, and his arms and chest were draped with women; drugged up, mewling things who spun his hair around their fingers and tugged on his shirt, even groped him on occasion - but he'd been through this so often that it had long ago stopped being erotic. It was just part of the job; most of these girls were exactly the same.

 

[prettylykSIN]

• • • • • • 
            "Amber Sweet and the Zydrate Support Network reminding you to Z-up responsibly."
            
            The huge television set in the middle of the city flashed a picture of Amber Sweet, posing and smiling. She looked healthier than she had in a long time. Her hair was blond and cropped short above her shoulders, the choppy locks were streaked with brown lowlights. The only thing that looked the same about the famous Geneco daughter was the amount of makeup she wore. But she looked as though she had kicked the Glow permanently. She had gained a little weight, developed curves and, laughably, breasts. She looked a lot healthier over all, proving that anyone, even a surgery slut like Amber could kick the habit.
            
            "Help us help you moderate your Zydrate intake."
            
            It meant dire news for the Zydrate dealers if people believed that someone like Amber could quit. The giant screen showed a clip of Amber smiling and laughing, the Geneco logo in the background. Dire news indeed. The ZSN commercial finished, and a commercial for next week's Opera appeared.
            
            
            ---​
            
            Two months. Months. Miss Amber Sweet was just about ready to kill herself. Onscreen, she smiled and told people that she conquered her addiction. Offscreen, she was nervous and jittery, the withdrawals sending her into violent screaming rages. Her two bodyguards had bloody scratches running down their muscular frame. And not the good kind. Daddy had given them direct orders not to let her go wandering around, and since he was the one who paid them, they did as he said. Amber hadn't shot up in two months.This must be some sort of abuse, surely. Even the Zydrate rehabs got the watered down stuff her family sold. But not her. Nope. Amber Sweet was going cold turkey....
            
            She lay now in her bed, a huge thing covered in silk and lace. She allowed only the finest fabrics next to her skin. And, of course, daddy was willing to pay. She was his little girl after all. Her two bodyguards were outside her door, banished from her room in a fit of temper. They would stop any attempt to escape.
            
            ...If they were there...
            
            The idea dawned on her so suddenly she gasped. It was brilliant! She raced to the door and yanked it open. Both men were on their feet, knives in hand. They looked at her curiously, thinking that someone had been after her. "Go get the doctor," she demanded, coughly loudly. "I'm sick!" They looked at each other uncertainly. At least she wasn't demanding to be let out. "Both of you, hurry! I think something went wrong with my last surgery." The blood left their faces. They both knew that if Amber died, so did they. They raced for the door to the hall and left her. She could have laughed out loud. She did, in fact. She grabbed with little cash she had on her dresser and made a break for it.
            
            She got out of the building fairly easily. No one was willing to question Amber Sweet to closely. After only a few moments, she was out in the darkness, the rank odor of the filthy streets hitting her nose. She laughed again. She was free! After two months, she was finally free. And she knew exactly where she was headed. Or rather, who she was headed to.
            
            Hopefully he hadn't gotten himself killed in these past two months.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]

 

[sevenpercentsolution]

Graverobber was still very much alive, and it was just Amber Sweet's luck that on that particular night he was in the alleyway just outside of the Zydrate rehabilitation centre, the very same place they had met in for all of their previous transactions over the years. Recently he had been branching out, walking the beat a little to secure more business, to attract a few new customers - of course, he knew that he would always have paying consumers as long as the human quest for pleasure continued, but the downside was that the customers tended to be as short-lived as the dealers. The ones who were careful or lucky enough would stick around for a long time, but there was always the margin of junkies who overdosed, the ones who had a bad reaction, or the ones who got snuffed by the Repo Man, so it was always ideal to keep those gaps filled.

He was just thinking ahead.

He had just finished shooting up one of the hookers with a shot of glow, he had just finished easing her down onto the concrete so she wouldn't crack her skull open - one of the newcomers to Zydrate - and he was holstering the gun with the finesse of a cowboy from an old Western when he saw her.

There was no mistaking the strut or the figure, and there was definitely no mistaking the hunger in her eyes; Amber Sweet was on the prowl for her favourite poison, and while the ragtag group of men and women around him tripped over their own feet to get out of the way, Graverobber stayed where he was, watching her.

"Well," he said, his hands pushing back his jacket and settling on his sides, and he turned to face her, cocking his head to the side, his stained lips stretching into a comical smile.

"Look who came out to play. Have you come to lecture us on our wicked, wicked ways, Miss Sweet?" he teased, "I'm just surprised to see a puritan out at this time of night."

 

[prettylykSIN]

• • • • • • 
            Icy blue eyes swept through the alley, appraising the scum and filth that surrounded Graverobber. The same as always. Her eyes wandered back to Graverobber and a lazy smile stretched her lips. He was the same as well. So relieved to see him was she, that she completely ignored his half teasing half taunting remarks. It took three steps to cover the distance between them, her long legs covering the distance quickly. Her long fingers dug into the ratty collar of his coat, pulling him against her.
            
            Amber had always viewed Graverobber as a source of her relief. While their relationship had always seemed erotic, it had been chaste at most. She had her two musclehead guards to please her. She didn't need this streetwalker, but her boys weren't here, and she was craving. "What's the matter, Graverobber? Spiteful? Did you miss me?" She was his biggest customer after all. She was surprised he wasn't a rich man from all the money she had thrown at him, unless he did this for kicks.
            
            She raised a hand and ran it through his hair, her face bare inches from his own. She always enjoyed the game they played. She would tease and tease, but she was only interested in the Glow. Although... she looked him over once more. He was a unique character. Strange. Erotic. It almost made her want more than empty teases. Her boys weren't always enough to satisfy her. They were never rough enough, afraid of her father's wrath if they should hurt her. But that was what she wanted. Pain. Bruises. Blood.
            
            
            
            
            [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]

 

[sevenpercentsolution]

Graverobber watched her with bright eyes as she strode towards him, her spiked heels clicking off the concrete with each step; most days, she couldn't get this close to him - she usually had her man-slaves at her sides, two bondage-adorned gorillas who would pull him back and shove him around if he stepped a few inches too near to her. But Graverobber was too laid back to ever actually be a problem for them, or any sort of threat that required true aggression - he was more of a lover than a fighter, though that was just a personal choice on the streets. Like any other seasoned vagrant, he knew how to defend himself, he just preferred to avoid fights where he could.

But how strange; Amber Sweet was all by her lonesome tonight, the gorillas were nowhere in sight - and this time, she came much closer to him than she usually risked doing, possibly incensed by the very fact she had the freedom to do so. Sure, those men were at her beck and call, but he imagined her father had a decent amount of influence on them as well, telling them to keep her in control, keep her out of trouble - and that meant keeping her away from people like Graverobber.

"I've been so busy that I hardly noticed you were gone," he replied, and there was an amusement in his tone as they circled eachother like vultures for an instant, but then she was up so close that he could see every eyelash; her body was flush agaisnt his, and her hand was in his hair - a gesture that made him quirk an eyebrow at her. He peered down at Amber and cocked his head to the side, eyes flicking over her face from mere centimetres away,

"What's the matter, Sweet," he asked playfully, and one hand lifted up a few strands of her hair, smoothing them between his fingers, "Are your bitches not giving you everything you need?"