"A few things, but nothing too indepth." He waves his hand dismissively through the air. "I'm sure I'll have access to more of what's really useful later." Tucking the folder back onto the desk, almost guaranteed to be exactly how he left it, he glances back down at her body and lets out a snicker. "Are you really going to go for a night on the town in that?"
Asshole. The innocent floral dress and cardigan look really isn't her style, she knows that. M.M. puts her foot down as she turns around, hoping to nail him on his toes only to miss. If only it was that easy to be appropriately petty against him. When she really wants to strike, she has to be creative about it. "Of course not," she sniffs, pausing by his coat rack to dig around until she finds the guy's wallet. This will do as a decent enough tip. "I packed an extra set of clothes. Who the hell do you think I am?"
"A golddigger?" he offers, smug and sly all at once while he stretches his arms up over his head.
M.M. flips him off before leaning down over the unconscious body at her feet. He'll be suspicious if he wakes up like this, more than he will be already at having what looked to be some random girl steal his wallet. The least she can do is dump him on his bed. It will help the impression that she was only that, instead of the way in for someone much worse. He's a bigger guy than her, as most guys tend to be, but M.M. doesn't let that stop her. She's spent years building up her body, all the better to crack her clarinet into a person's skull with maximum force. A mere businesman isn't enough to even make her bust out a sweat as she hauls him up and tosses him carelessly onto the bed where he'd hope to get laid instead of laid out.
His eyelids don't even flutter. Those were some really impressive drugs she managed to slip him. Well, for the amount she paid for them, they better be.
("The amount" being literally any amount. M.M. has found that she can put her money to much more self indulgent uses, and it's more pleasurable to do so.)
"So you're taking me out to dinner, aren't you?" she asks plainly shrugging off her cardigan as she goes over to the slightly ratty backpack she'd walked in with that contains clothing worth more than some people's lives. She doesn't even blink as she reaches down to slide her dress up over her hips and then her head. There's nothing of her body that Mukuro hasn't seen before. If anything, they're both quite familiar with one another on that sense.
As a matter of fact, Mukuro seems more concerned with what she's said than that she's readjusting the hidden straps of her bra so that there's a slight criss-cross of them across her collarbone. "I don't believe that was part of our deal," he drawls before something seems to hit him. "Also it's three in the morning."
"Then it's breakfast," M.M. says offhandedly, sliding on a skirt that's just short enough to get her banned from most schools and a leather jacket which says she wouldn't care either way. Combined with a good pair of boots, and she's all set. There's nothing holding her back from walking over to Mukuro, a sway in her hips, and she smirks up at him with her arms wrapping around his hips. "As if you really have anything else to do in this city, Mukuro-chan." He smirks right back at her, the two of them leaning close enough for their faces to brush.
He blinks. "...Is that your hand in my pocket trying to steal my wallet, or are you happy to see me?"
With their lips maybe a centimeter apart, M.M. makes a couple kissing noises. "Your wallet is the only good thing about you, Mukuro-chan." But then again, her ability to lie, murder, and steal are probably the only good things about her.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
2/2
Asshole. The innocent floral dress and cardigan look really isn't her style, she knows that. M.M. puts her foot down as she turns around, hoping to nail him on his toes only to miss. If only it was that easy to be appropriately petty against him. When she really wants to strike, she has to be creative about it. "Of course not," she sniffs, pausing by his coat rack to dig around until she finds the guy's wallet. This will do as a decent enough tip. "I packed an extra set of clothes. Who the hell do you think I am?"
"A golddigger?" he offers, smug and sly all at once while he stretches his arms up over his head.
M.M. flips him off before leaning down over the unconscious body at her feet. He'll be suspicious if he wakes up like this, more than he will be already at having what looked to be some random girl steal his wallet. The least she can do is dump him on his bed. It will help the impression that she was only that, instead of the way in for someone much worse. He's a bigger guy than her, as most guys tend to be, but M.M. doesn't let that stop her. She's spent years building up her body, all the better to crack her clarinet into a person's skull with maximum force. A mere businesman isn't enough to even make her bust out a sweat as she hauls him up and tosses him carelessly onto the bed where he'd hope to get laid instead of laid out.
His eyelids don't even flutter. Those were some really impressive drugs she managed to slip him. Well, for the amount she paid for them, they better be.
("The amount" being literally any amount. M.M. has found that she can put her money to much more self indulgent uses, and it's more pleasurable to do so.)
"So you're taking me out to dinner, aren't you?" she asks plainly shrugging off her cardigan as she goes over to the slightly ratty backpack she'd walked in with that contains clothing worth more than some people's lives. She doesn't even blink as she reaches down to slide her dress up over her hips and then her head. There's nothing of her body that Mukuro hasn't seen before. If anything, they're both quite familiar with one another on that sense.
As a matter of fact, Mukuro seems more concerned with what she's said than that she's readjusting the hidden straps of her bra so that there's a slight criss-cross of them across her collarbone. "I don't believe that was part of our deal," he drawls before something seems to hit him. "Also it's three in the morning."
"Then it's breakfast," M.M. says offhandedly, sliding on a skirt that's just short enough to get her banned from most schools and a leather jacket which says she wouldn't care either way. Combined with a good pair of boots, and she's all set. There's nothing holding her back from walking over to Mukuro, a sway in her hips, and she smirks up at him with her arms wrapping around his hips. "As if you really have anything else to do in this city, Mukuro-chan." He smirks right back at her, the two of them leaning close enough for their faces to brush.
He blinks. "...Is that your hand in my pocket trying to steal my wallet, or are you happy to see me?"
With their lips maybe a centimeter apart, M.M. makes a couple kissing noises. "Your wallet is the only good thing about you, Mukuro-chan." But then again, her ability to lie, murder, and steal are probably the only good things about her.
No one else really can deserve either of them.