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Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：11/18/2015 20:27 PMCopy HTML
| The scene fades in from black showing Miss Devyne waiting in line at an ice cream parlour. She has a finger on her lip as she looks at the menu posted ahead of her on the wall. She was tapping the front of her black pumps on the floor, seemingly trying to use that to help her make a decision. She was wearing opaque stockings that ran to her thighs and were held up by a black garter. She was also wearing a tight black dress with a brown cropped leather jacket. Sticking out in the crowd, but not enough for people to recognize her. Just quite a bit of staring. She had her hair up in pigtails. Her eyes continued to race across the menu as she moved one spot closer to the cashier to make her order. She dropped her arm, clasping her other hand and letting both rest in front of her. She waited patiently, finally having figured out what she wanted. When she got to her turn, she took a large step up to the counter and smiled at the girl there.
Cashier: "Can I help you, ma'am?"
Psyche: "Oh yes please! I would love a bubblegum ice cream in a waffle cone."
Cashier: "One scoop?"
Psyche: "Yes please. That would be lovely."
The cashier nodded and started to prepare her order. Psyche moved over a bit to stand in front of the register so she could pay. The girl finished and handed Psyche her ice cream. She paid for it and made her way out of the parlour, turning left as she stepped out of the door. She started walking down the street, heading towards her flat. She took a lick of her ice cream and another smile formed on her lips.
Psyche: "Mmm... Bubblegum is my favourite. And it has these lovely little gum chunks in it. So amazing."
She takes another lick, continuing to walk.
Psyche: "Now I brought you all with me today to get a few things off of my chest."
She pauses. The ice cream had already started to melt a little bit. Some dripped onto her cleavage, leaving a pink creamy line on her chest. She pointed out her index finger on her free hand, moving it towards the spot. She ran her finger up the ice cream line, getting it all on her finger. She stuck her finger into her mouth, sucking the creamy goodness off of it. She pulled her finger out, licking anything that was remaining. She looked down at her cleavage to inspect if there was any more left. She looked back up and licked at another spot that was about to drip.
Psyche: "And I don't mean the ice cream..."
She winked at the camera, smirking a bit.
Psyche: "No... I have to talk about Eric Craven. My opponent this week on Last Call. Why? Because that's just how this stuff works. He talks about me, I talk about him. The same as all the other times I've faced someone here. Still a little bit boring... but I'll get over it."
She licks the ice cream again. With each lick, she adds a bit more sensuality to the situation.
Psyche: "My first comment is this: What is with you Americans? I don't understand why you have to show footage of you working out? Is it to prove you're actually doing it? Or is that the only thing you do every day? Does the fact that I'm eating ice cream right now make you assume I'm not working out ever? I show you a maximum of an hour of my day during a promo... and I don't happen to be working out. So you instantly assume I don't work out ever? Or train myself on your ring style? What do you think I do, sit on my arse for the other 23 hours in my day? I don't need to show you how I prepare for a match, love! The idea of doing that is just silly. What if I was practicing a new move that I was looking to debut in a match? Do you think I should show that in a promo? Should I not surprise my opponent with that move and catch them off guard? From what you all seem to think, the answer is whatever it is that I shouldn't do. You people are literally insane, I think."
She shakes her head, taking another lick of her ice cream. She's licking around the rim, trying to get any dripping parts to stop dripping. Then she goes back to licking just the top, pausing to speak.
Psyche: "Eric, Eric, Eric... You seem to believe I really care about your past. I don't, honestly. I don't have the patience to find out what you've done, who you've killed, who you've put your parts into. That's not my business. My business is what you do at Last Call. I won't even bring your slag girlfriend into this... Did I say that out loud?"
She smiles sweetly at the camera, taking another lick of her ice cream. She turns right at a set of lights, walking in the new direction now.
Psyche: "I really like this whole stance you have against being distracted in this match. It's really cute, honestly. Sadly... I don't really know if it'll work for you. You see... You may say you're only distracted by your own woman... but most men just can't help themselves. It's basic human nature to look at other women. We're built to do it. Just like i'm built to look at other men and women if I'm in a relationship. That's just how we work, love. But let's put my looks aside, hm? Let's just say for a moment... I do something extremely distracting in the ring. Something like... have a clown making balloon animals in my corner. Do you think you can remain undistracted from that? Another one... What if... I had... a live snake around my neck. And this snake only bites men named Eric. Specifically. Can you STILL remain undistracted? This is an extremely important question, Eric. Important enough to be crucial to your winning or losing this week. Would you put a bet on you actually not getting distracted by anything I do? I wouldn't."
She nods and looks back to her ice cream. It's now dripping down her hand. She sticks out her tongue, slowly licking up the side of her hand. From there, she moves her tongue up the side of the waffle cone, ending right at the tip... err... top. She licks her lips in the same slow way, enjoying the flavour. She bites her lip gently, eyes still on her ice cream.
Psyche: "This is some really good ice cream. I highly recommend that parlour..."
Psyche once again licks the top of the ice cream. At this point, it's almost finished.
Psyche: "I'll tell you this one more time, Eric. I don't care for your title. You can keep it. I just care about beating you. I want to see your bird get choked up over you losing. I'd like to see that disappointment in her eyes when she realizes that you got distracted. And that it was another woman that did it. I want to see the look on your face when I surprise you with what I have planned. And love... I do have something planned."
She smirked, licking the rest of the ice cream out of the waffle cone. She swirls her tongue around the inside, making sure she gets every bit of cream out of the cone.
Psyche: "Anyways... I've just got to my flat. I'm going to go inside, get myself changed, and do some training. I just thought I'd let you know, since you think I don't do it anyways. I'm prepared, Eric. Don't worry about me... worry about yourself. I'll be fine. But will you?"
She winked once again. She moved her shoulders, letting her jacket fall off of her. She tabs onto the collar of it in a swift motion, holding onto it. She starts walking up the set of stairs up to the front door. She slips her key into the lock, unlocking the door. Her other hand snakes behind her, reaching up to the zipper on her dress, slowly pulling the zipper down. Her back is now exposed, showing off her milky skin more than she had already. She steps into the flat, closing the door behind her. Mere seconds later, she opens the door just a bit, her head and shoulders poking out from behind the door. Her dress is on the floor right inside the flat, seen through the open door.
Psyche: "Oh... and one more thing, Eric. Try not to let me get you in any submission holds... You never know what I'll do when I have you caught in my web."
She smirks again and closes the door for the second time, the scene fading out.
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| +.Blackroses.+ |
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