Hello readers! This is the Interview I was talking about in my author notes in Chapter six. I hope you guys enjoy it. Crocodile is such a hard shell to crack, let me tell ya.
I write all my interviews in italics so please bare with me. (anyone who goes to my profile and sees my random updates and short interviews knows this). Speaking of which, a funny little skit between Asha, Belle, and I are up on my profile. Me and my OP O/C's had a movie night and it could have really use popcorn...sigh. OH WELL.
Enjoy! :)
((rated M for language and slightly hinted fluffy-ness))
Interview with the Sir Crocodile:
Oh Shit-nuggets. My mouth goes dry, and I think my tongue has died because I swear I can hear it shrivel and crumble into dust.
This is way too much for me. I haven't even shot off my first question and I'm squirming like the awkward anti-social geek I am. It's like being shoved on stage alone in front of a thousand accusatory eyes. Sweet mother of fudge monkey's!
Crocodile (and one of the Seven War Lords of the Sea may I remind you all!) regards me with shrewd, cadaver cold eyes. Those scary "I could kill you and not blink twice about it" eyes never leave my own doe like "Stuck in Head lights" as he sips a glass of red wine. An Alamos Malbec, I think.
I watch, stuck between awe and horror as he shifts to place his wine on a little side table next to the plushy armchair he is sprawled upon like a lazy tiger; and just as dangerous, my oh-so happy and snarky subconscious points out to me.
A small smile tugs at his lips as he lifts the wine bottle next to his glass to refill what he had taken. That smile is mocking, with a touch of arrogance, and all about the confidence. He is so at ease with himself and the situation; so confident, that it just stonewalls me.
I am so not the girl for this job. I am not Ash.
Shaking myself to clear my head and hopefully puff up my inner air-balloon of self-esteem, I clear my throat.
Those deadly glacial eyes focus back on me. Crocodile leans back in that plushy armchair once more and continues to sip his wine. His minx fur coat is draped over the back of the armchair like a victory flag. His black purple hinted hair is combed back in all its impeccable straightness. Oh, and those long legs of his are crossed as his body leans back into his coat, making him look every inch the Mogul.
A flush creeps up my cheeks as I can't help but acknowledge how handsome he looks like that. Of course, that was once I got myself to stop drowning his in coffin-like stare.
That smirk shows once more like he knows why I'm blushing.
This causes me to blush more and I quickly look down at the notes on my lap. It might as well be written in Greek for all that I can make of it. I can barely concentrate. I thought I could handle this, but I hadn't anticipated this. Crocodile was...is just to intimidating for me. It's the aura he emanates, or maybe the waves of disdain I begin to feel roll off of him as I continue to struggle inwardly. Note to self, waves of disdain are worse than a thousand accusatory eyes.
Maybe I shouldn't have done this. I am not Grayson A. Asha. I don't have that unwavering self assurance and brazen tenacity. Bravado, maybe, and that can only get me so far, but I can't hide behind bravado on this one: those eyes just see too much.
"So you are the one who created Miss Grayson." His tone is blank but with a tone that touches on disbelieving.
Wow, it's as if he has mirrored my thoughts. A small part of me wants to glare at him and say "Yes, I am the one that did, so what?" But the impulse is quickly squashed by a more reasonable calm voice that whispers to me to tread carefully. It's the only thing that keeps me from saying it. Maybe some part of Ash is rubbing off on me, or maybe I have an inner Ash in me somewhere that I didn't realize. Well…she had to come from somewhere.
As I think on these things Crocodile has closed his eyes and is drinking his wine as if I am not even there anymore. Obviously, I am not worth his time.
I clear my throat once more to clear my head (Crocodile continues to not acknowledge me). "Sir Crocodile, what are your plans once this story is finished?"
"What an asinine question for an obvious answer." His response is clipped and I can tell he is less than impressed by my start. He keeps his eyes closed and swirls his wine before taking another sip.
He is keeping his eyes closed either because he knows those cold daggers disconcert me, or he doesn't feel that I'm worth his time. I have a nagging suspicion it is the latter.
Okay, this is getting a little irritating, but his continued aloofness to me only crushes my confidence further. It's like he has the "destroy Author Button" on his watch or something.
My eyes go back down to my notes. He makes me feel that's where my eyes should be rather than on him.
"Alright, yeesh, this is just painful!"
Both Crocodile and my head snap up as Ash sashays her way toward us.
"You should have called me in here a long time ago, Oh-Great-Author." I scowl at her scolding but she ignores me. "Don't go all stubborn on me"-she waggles her finger at me as she moves to sit on the armrest of Crocodile's armchair which only makes his face mirror mine-"I know how tenacious you can be, you just have to let yourself relax and you might see it like I do." She shakes her head like this is some great tragedy that touches her heart.
Yeah, right, she doesn't have a heart. Bitch.
She smiles like she knows what I'm thinking, which she does.
Bitch. Yeah think it again, maybe she'll get the message and go away.
"Besides," she says to change the subject. "You should have told me there would be booze." Her eyes glitter with twisted humor as she leans across Crocodile in a teasing way, which only makes his scowl deepen, so she can grab his bottle of wine. She takes a too-generous gulp of the blood colored substance.
The irony of Ash drinking something that looks like blood has not escaped me. A slightly hysterical giggle erupts from my lips.
Ash frowns. "I'm not a blood sucking harpy, okay. It's not funny."
A grin splits my face at her reference to the name I tend to call her when she is bothering me.
"I disagree," Crocodile's cool voice cuts between us. His face is a cool mask but his eyes blaze with fury at Ash. I can only assume it's from her thievery. Although, there were countless other transgressions against her if one really thought about it…
"You don't look amused," Ash points out completely missing that the War Lord is not talking about whether the comment is funny or not. No, she probably hasn't missed it. She is probably choosing to ignore it. Dang Ash, can you not instigate a situation anywhere you go?
Crocodile gently places his near empty wine glass on the side table and quickly snatches the wine bottle back from Ash. "That's because I'm not amused." He growls as Ash pouts.
"Awe, Sir Croc-o-dile, I was enjoying that. And I hope you're not calling me a blood sucking harpy too."
"Why deny what you are?"
"Because I don't suck blood and I don't appreciate the term 'harpy'. The sucking part however," Ash leans toward Crocodile and raises her hand to lightly trace the scar on his face. "That part I don't think I can argue. I don't think I want too." She breathes the last sentence into a sensual promise.
My face turns red. Okay, I so don't need to be here for this.
Crocodile grabs Ash by her wrist and pulls her fingers from his face. His eyes are darker than before, I'm not sure if it's from anger or lust. Either way, I want to be out of here now. This is just awkward.
"Harpy fits you perfectly. You're so annoying." Crocodile snarls and he pushes her wrist away so he can refill his glass of wine.
Ash pouts then smiles evilly. "Be nice to my Author and I'll leave you alone for a night."
The War Lord's eyebrow twitches while he pauses with the glass mid-way to his lips. "One night?"
"Yes."
"Not good enough, and besides, I'm not interested in bargaining with you."
"Fine, then I'll spend all night every night in your bed, naked." Ash purrs and coos, "Just like I know you want me too."
Crocodile's face darkens with anger as Ash scoots from her seat on his armrest to his lap.
"That sounds more like a threat," His voice heavy with rage and sharp with menace.
"You said you weren't interested in bargaining." Ash shrugs and snakes her arms up his chest and around his neck. She begins to play with a long strand of hair.
I can hear Crocodile's teeth grinding on against his molars as his jaw tightens in repressed violence. His face is otherwise empty, but those eyes of his are burning with a life his face doesn't betray.
I'm in awe and marvel at Ash's brazen and fearless antics. For if Crocodile had looked at me with those eyes, I would have been killed just by his sheer wish.
"Threats or no threats, negotiations have ended." With that, Crocodile uses his free hand to dig into Asha's short hair and pulls her back. A cold triumphant smirk touches his lips as he pushes her off of him.
Ash glares up at the War Lord from the floor to which she had been unceremoniously tossed.
Oh no. My eyes widen. Crocodile might as well have thrown down a gauntlet of challenge. That's the way I know Asha is going to take it. I glance quickly around the room. There has got to be an exit. But how does one exit one's mind? Maybe I could walk through a daydream door or something.
Black eyes twitter in excitement.
Oh no, it was going to begin. Ash's persistent harping. She always gets what she wants when she goes full Harpy-Mode.
Slowly, so no one notices me, I pack away my notes and stand from my chair. I need to get the hell outta dodge.
Ash has gotten on her feet and has started to circle the plushy armchair like a predator stalking its prey.
Crocodile's eyes stay riveted to the harpy circling him with ill intent.
An evil smile curves her lips as she makes her third time around the chair.
Okay, I'm leaving. No more of this shit. I am ready to get my ass outta here and somewhere where I can listen to obnoxiously loud music.
Distracting us both, Ash has lunged for the wine bottle on the side table instead of what we both thought. Crocodile had braced himself for an assault and the lack thereof has left him impotent and unsure. I was left standing, feeling completely nonplussed and stupid.
Asha takes an unnecessarily large gulp.
"Ahhh! That was so worth it." She cuddles the bottle between her ridiculously large (in my opinion) breasts.
Crocodile is rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he is trying to fight of the beginnings of a migraine.
Yeah, I know the feeling, trust me. I roll my eyes inwardly and plop my ass back in my seat.
After a few large drinks Ash is twisting and contorting her body in a strange rhythmic dance. Both Crocodile and I watch either enthralled, or disgusted, I'm not sure either of us knows which.
When I think that she is done, the harpy surprises me by jumping on the side table by Crocodile's plushy chair and begins to dance. Well at least this isn't a cafeteria where she can melt the tables.
The War Lord has saved his own glass of wine from Ash's tapping heeled feet and is glaring up at her.
Mmm, might as well use this to my advantage. Maybe I'll be able to actually do this interview if he isn't looking at me.
I narrow my eyes at one of my questions and focus on it. "What similarities do you see between you and Miss Grayson? In Chapter Six you talk about similarities, what could be similar to you and the" – I chance a glance at Asha who is nearly done with the bottle of wine and sashaying her hips side to side- "mercurial and energetic Harpy?"
Ash has stopped dancing long enough to give me a very rude gesture with her free hand.
I move my eyes away to try and focus back on my notes but Crocodile's eyes capture mine.
A shiver passes through me at his look. It's like he is really seeing me for the first time. Maybe he thought I wouldn't get this far in my questioning. Truthfully, I'm surprised I did too. Having Ash break in and wreak havoc didn't help…well it did and didn't. She has that effect.
His eyes still have me captive and I can't look away. Damn he is handsome. I flush again and blink rapidly to try and regain my wits.
Finally he releases me and looks back at Ash, who is now holding the War Lord's wine glass. Apparently she had taken it from him when he was unawares. The little kleptomaniac. Crocodile's lips thin in irritation.
"I don't know what I was thinking. We have nothing in common. I prefer to be rational; even though there are times that I am not. That was certainly one of my moments of irrationality."
He explains this with his calm air of self assurance, making it sound like an unfortunate inevitability which came with a side order of "it happens to the best of us".
Without my permission my eyebrow pops up to say "Hi!" to the ceiling.
"So the fact that she is cold, meticulous, efficient, confident, smart, and unwavering has nothing to do with it?"
Timing was not on my side, and seemed to be teaming up with fate for shits and giggles because at that moment, Ash lost her balance and fell. The bottle of wine went flying and hit the floor with a deafening shatter that made the silence after seem heavier.
Ash is on the ground on her stomach looking at the bottle in utter horror (because there was still wine inside and now it is on the floor).
Crocodile's head has found its way into his hand and he is sighing in what I assume is irritation. "No," he growls. "I don't see any of that."
Well, now I see his point. Asha is wailing while holding pieces of the broken bottle. She has shifted to her knees and is looking at the sky as if to ask the Gods "why!?".
Damn her, damn her alcoholism, and just for the hell of it, damn her love for dancing on tables while drunk and/or drinking.
Setting my chin in determination in an effort to try and salvage the situation, I leaf through my notes. Though something tells me the situation has the same chances at being salvaged as that wine bottle does. Zip…zero…nadda.
Talking over what I know is Asha's fake tears (over dramatic harpy is doing it on purpose) I take another question from my notes. "So what makes you finally give into Asha's seduction?"
Silence has answered my question. This has both Sir Crocodile and I looking at Ash whom is now sitting quietly and watching us.
A sheepish expression passes over her features, but it's so fleeting I'm not sure it was even there. "Don't mind me," she gives us a shooing motion with her hand and continues to watch us.
Noooo, she isn't interested in the question at all. I roll my eyes.
I look back at Crocodile whom has somehow kept up his cool mask of indifference. His eyes, however, give him away. Those said eyes are filled with pent up violence as they meet mine. Yikes!
I clear my throat…. "So…" I trail off hoping he will answer.
"Yeah, so?" Ash unhelpfully prompts.
"Shut up," I snarl at her.
"Oh please," she doesn't acknowledge me. Crocodile has her full attention. "You gonna answer Sir Croc-o-dile?"
Great someone else who measures me on the "worthless" scale. This is just pissing me off now. Hello! I created this Frankenstein monster; I should at least get some sort of credit!
I raise my hand to stop all these crazy shenanigans. "Okay, Asha either you clean up your act, or I'm banishing you to the corner of my mind for a week. I'm trying, yes trying, to do an interview for your sake. Yes, God forbid, I'm doing it for you; for your story. So do yourself and me a favor and shut up!"
It takes me a few minutes to realize I have stood on my feet and both Crocodile and Ash are staring at me in shock. The shock is for different reasons on both ends I'm sure, but I'm too angry to care.
Ash pops an eyebrow at me while amusement tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Okay," she mouths and puts her hands up and sits Indian style on the ground.
I narrow my eyes at her. It is never easy to get her to shut up. Usually it takes me blasting music and thinking about something so un-Ash-ish that she disappears. Her easy acceptance has me suspicious, but I was also taught not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still strange but…oh well.
Still eyeing the oddly complacent Asha, I sit down again. "Okay," I take a deep breath to calm myself. "So what made you finally give into Asha's seduction?"
Crocodile is leaning back in the plushy chair still looking yummy but this time his eyes are full of speculation as he meets my gaze. I don't shy away from his eyes anymore, I'm too angry still.
The War Lord reaches inside of his vest and takes out a cigar and a lighter. He lights his cigar, exhales, and washes us all in the sweet smoky exotic scents of the burning herbs and toxins.
I close my eyes briefly and enjoy the smell. It reminds me of my father and how he would always smoke Cuban Cigars on special occasions. It kind of smells like that and it relaxes me. Of course relaxing before a dangerous War Lord with a handy weapon at hand (no pun intended) was never a smart idea, so I sharpen up quickly.
He is watching me still; I don't think his eyes ever left me. The War Lord is still wearing arrogance like a second skin. He knows that I stand no chance against him. But this wasn't a physical battle, I could do this.
Crocodile tilted his head to the side and gives me an indulgent smile. "Call it a moment of irrationality."
"I don't believe that."
He openly frowns at me.
"I believe that you are strong willed and determined, I'll give you that. But she was something you wanted and you finally took. Whether or not it was something you planned is incidental, and this may bother you, but you gave in. You let your well muscled self control go and it ends with," I look at Ash who is smiling smugly (something I'm use to seeing on Crocodile's face, not hers) and give her an apologetic look. "Little cans of exploding confetti included with orgasm. Sorry Ash," I grin at her.
Asha shrugs and grins back.
I look back at Crocodile and he is wearing that calm mask. "Believe what you will." He closes his eyes and takes another puff.
He is dismissing me. Mmmm. Deciding not to push it further because something tells me if I do I'll be a human shish kabob.
Ash stands up and rolls her eyes. "War Lords," she mutters. "Touchier than divas."
I purse my lips at her and she shrugs at me.
"Thanks for the interview, Sir Crocodile." I bow. Because at the end of the day, I do respect the Hell outta this man.
He grunts and focuses his eyes on Asha as she sashays away.
With that, we leave the War Lord alone in his plushy chair and cigar.
Well… I do, I can't make any promises on Ash.