Margo Lane | Parody
@belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
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“You can’t run from the Shadow, but you can invite it to dance.” | 21+ #SmutlessRP | #TheShadow #DC #Marvel #Noir | MV/Selectively MS | #Fake
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belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“You can’t run from the Shadow, but you can invite it to dance.”

~ Margo Lane
~ 21+ #SmutlessRP
~ #TheShadow #DC #Marvel
~ #Noir
~ MV/Selectively MS

Penned by #Scripturient
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
// Favoriting some things to mark them. 🩷

No rush for anyone to reply.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
The woman nods.

“I’d like that. Very much.”

Sometimes even quiet companionship chases the clouds away.

So she pours them some tea.

“Not sure if you’re a tea drinker, but I find it’s better for the comforting than coffee.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“It’s a gloomy day. I have them now and again. So sometimes I just need to find myself and my peace. But I’m happy to have a companion sit with m while I do.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“Of course. My mistake. But I suppose my question remains. What I need to find cannot be found quickly.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
Does he have time for that?

Given the two jobs.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
SL Continuation with @vivelarevolution17.bsky.social | Another Dance

Margo doesn’t let go as the bike skids to a stop a little up the block from her apartment.

They are a stone’s throw from where they met. The old streetlight is gone — replaced by one far newer and with the obligatory camera ~
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
~ Then, she gives him a nod to follow.

“Let’s go inside.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
~ they need to talk about why and how they’re both still alive. Still young. Given the little he told her, she has some theories.

Margo slides off the bike and sets the helmet on the back. Then, she waits for him.

“That’s me,” she says, pointing to her building. “Told you I was close.” ~
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
~ She wants to kiss him like she did that night but settles with giving him a squeeze. They have so much to talk about.

Namely, that he fought to find her and free her . . . eighty years after the one night they shared together.

It’s a grand gesture if she ever saw one.

But more than that, ~
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
~attached. The facades of many of the buildings are original. Most of the interiors had been remodeled —
some turned into luxury condos. Others, like her own, nice but a smidge more modest.

The place is familiar, but eighty years obviously passed.

“Sort of surreal, isn’t it?” Margo comments.~
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
SL Continuation with @vivelarevolution17.bsky.social | Another Dance

Margo doesn’t let go as the bike skids to a stop a little up the block from her apartment.

They are a stone’s throw from where they met. The old streetlight is gone — replaced by one far newer and with the obligatory camera ~
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
// Writing here tonight.

Need to post a redo starter for an SL that poofed.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
Margo does, and there is a slight smirk upon her lips as she follows.

Once they are out of earshot, Margo says, “Don’t want your coworkers to know you’re jetting off to Paris with a stranger?”

And yet, she knows that’s not it.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
She honestly would mind if he was on to her. A bit of cleverness would be a novel challenge.

“Not yet anyway,” she teases in turn. “But the night is still young.”

She might learn something about the man that merits closer inquiry.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
She’s impressed by that level of effort and no doubt trust. If her theories are correct.

“I’m guessing this is an . . . eight hour flight, give or take?”

Unless he really is trusting her with something big.

“Probably should pack a bag for a day or two.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“Quite a way to put that,” she jokes but then elaborates further. “I am here to meet with them.”

Margo points at the group of men nearby. Said men don’t really know she is here for them, but . . . Neither here nor there.

“About some anticipated donations to my organization.”

More or less.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
Seems so.

The woman’s lips curve slight.

“Color me impressed. Paris it is.”

How he’s managing this has yet to be seen.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
She finishes writing her number and glances up at him.

“I wasn’t entirely serious. Are you?”

She knows what he can do even if he hasn’t told her, but she’s not expecting by a confession of that sort anytime soon.

“I’m happy with anything.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“Are you asking me out?” Margo replies with feigned surprise as she slides the folder closer to her again. “Very smooth, Mr. Kent.”

But she leans in and scribbles her number.

“Seven maybe? Unless I need to pack for Paris,” she jokes. “Then we might need to leave earlier to make dinner.”
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
“If we are pretending what’s in that folder is actually useful, then yes.”

Even his shy smiles are megawatt.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
A light blush colors her cheeks.

“Thank you, Clark. I hope . . . All is going well?”

Smalltalk, she’s usually good at. Maybe not so much when it’s for her and not work.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
She holds up a file folder.

“I came prepared.”

Or maybe she just wanted the excuse.
belchiaroscuro.bsky.social
~ “Mostly go to these events and try to act important.”

She has her importance and her purpose, but she is not one of the guests gifting money to random charities to feel better about her myriad sins.

No. She rather prefers exposing the sins.