If it was the thrill of the chase that he desired then, perhaps, neither of them would be left wanting at the evening's close. Askaree was, in both of her skins, a predator in its purest and most primitive form and as such she lusted for the chase more fervently than most others- especially fellow women who seemed to shy away from pursuing their own pleasure. And when the quarry was just as predatory as she? The outcome was positively resplendent. The pushing and pulling, the ravenous give and take, made for pretty fucking excellent foreplay.

She was down to play. Game on.

The caramel-skinned woman bolts as the first rubber-soled footfalls crackle against the asphalt behind her, footfalls that hasten exponentially wtih the pounding of her feet and (somewhat surprisingly) those of her compatriot not terribly far behind her. Her outfit, though decidedly not condusive to outrunning Sacrosanct's finest, and her moderate level of inebriation hardly serve to hinder her progress. Nor does the appearance of several additional officers and, goody goody, a bellowing canine positioned squarely in their path. Now it was a fucking party. A devilish grin spreads across Askree's features then, hands already moving to disrobe in order to allow her ophidian alternate self to stretch her stubby little legs. The scrawny mutt would prove merely an appetizer for nearly eighteen feet of armored muscle and a mouthful of conical teeth. Just the site of her would cause the boys in blue to blanch.

Askaree's hands are stayed, however, at the Scot's shouted instructions from behind her. Turning her head to look at him she nearly trips at the sight of ... holy... Batman? What the actual fuck? Two gargantuan wings had unveiled themselves as if from nowhere, the breeze created by their fluttering rustling the waterfall of brunette locks cascading over her shoulders. Operating against the instincts that brayed within her, the Egyptian woman clasps his offered hand a moment before their feet leave the fissured concrete and the pair are airborne. It is an action that is largely based in a mire of curiosity- though she is hardly as gobsmacked as the officers on the ground, even their flea-ridden weapon seemingly taken aback as it dissolves into a chorus of shrill whimpering. At least one officer seems to regain their composure if only insofar as it prompts them to fire at the flying pair. "Fuck", she yells angrily before fixing her gaze once more upon the skittering figures below; the barest of moments pass before a dozen or so firearms dislodge themselves from the grasps of their respective wielder and careen in all directions to become somewhat of a sinister Easter egg hunt.

It is a distraction that proves successful, allowing Askaree and her fairy godfather to depart in relative peace before landing a notable distance from the turmoil in their wake. Once back on the ground Askaree eyes her counterpart, curiosity evident and reflected unabashedly in the dark pools of her eyes. But as the wings start to fold and withdraw, Askaree snaps an arm out with practiced ease, her hand coiled about a single bony appendage as her fingers run over the soft expanse of membrane. A handful of silent moments pass betwixt the pair as Askaree merely regards the material in her hand before allowing her eyes to meet those of the somber Scotsman, a perfectly manicured brow pitched in question. "So... fairy? Vampire? Unfortunate product of an experiment-gone-wrong?"

Askaree