#reigningsniper.

[mielmoto]

Honey appears to be in a particularly low cut dress. Riza's not blushing now. Nope.

...and unlike some people we may know, Honey is keenly aware of her... assets, and how to use them for maximum effect. hence: a 'casual' evening of bar-hopping and good company solicits the mini-est of mini dresses, with a hemline barely clawing it's way a few inches down plush thighs, and— indeed— a 'neckline' so deep that one almost needed a submersible craft to find the bottom of it.

it's payback, as far as she's concerned– for how effortlessly gorgeous Riza looked in anything, but especially for their last little dress-up time together. needless to say, she's delighted by the results.

...and happy to tease, a little. the hand which isn't clutching her own fruity little cocktail brandishes a cool glass of water, offered to her friend.

❝ careful to pace yourself, babe! i know there's, like, a lot to take in, and it's very tasty– but we can't have you getting all steamed up and tuckered out this early!❞

(wink.)

[mielmoto]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 | accepting

@reigningsniper asked: "Well, how do I look?"

SO THE OLD PHRASE GOES THAT "ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS"– Honey has nothing to say as the Lieutenant emerges from the dressing room, a simple and innocent question on her lips; only melodrama on offer, instead, as she all-but-falls to her knees, catching one hand on a nearby chair to stabilize herself while her other hand clutched at her chest.

❝ holy shit, ❞ a whisper, slightly hoarse.

when you get right down to it, it's a simple dress. almost excruciatingly so: midnight black, satin, sleeveless, held up by a tightly cinched halter collar, and a hem falling just past Riza's knee. the subtle split on one side cut up far enough to reveal a glimpse of thigh, but nothing exceptionally risqué– no, the cardiovascular threat of it all is owed to the woman in the dress.

❝ Miss Hawkeye, I need you to be, like, 100 with me. what percentage of the military persons who are going to be at this gala are approximately as, like, unreasonably sexy as you? because on the one hand I feel like I NEED to be there, but on the other, like, I'm pretty sure it would be a health risk. ❞

she coughs once, clearing her throat, for emphasis. ❝ we're buying this. straight up, I don't care how much it is– if you don't want to pay for it, I'll buy it for you, and that's final. your date is going to die on the spot, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. ❞

[mielmoto]

THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS

@reigningsniper said:

"Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?" // oh...oh ri...

A pause, and a momentary falter in her mien, easy smile slipping to something small, and unreadable.

If Riza was looking at her with skepticism, searching for an answer before words, she'd find only wide violet irises scrutinizing her in turn: reading her expression, assessing her doubt, and slowly stewing a response—until the smaller blond turns to face her, properly, and reaches out to gather both of Riza's hands in her own. Jury's out on the second half, but at least she meets the first part of the request: Honey looks Riza straight in the eye, with a slight smile returned:

❝ Sure, I could... But would it matter? ❞ She asks; her voice... strange. Still light, as ever, but flatter, almost detached. ❝ I mean, if you're already dubious about whether or not I'm being honest, what difference does it make? Couldn't I just be lying again? Ooh, or is it, like, a military thing—you think you could tell if I was lying if you could see my face? ❞

Clearly, the thought amuses her. Not in the least because, as open and dramatic about her emotions as she plays, Riza would find no such transparency in meeting Honey's eyes. Quite the opposite: hues which read gentle, in passing, appear unnatural, surreal, viewed up-close and uninterrupted. The longer the gaze is held, the more... disoriented the Lieutenant might feel. Not sick, persay, but clouded—hazy—thoughts becoming difficult to hold on to, slipping past like sand through the gaps between fingers...

Honey blinks into a broad smile, and a laugh, letting Riza go in more ways than one.

❝ If you want me to promise you, I will. But at the end of the day, you're the one who has to decide what you believe is true. That's all anyone can do. ❞

[mielmoto]

@reigningsniper dropped by:

She has been absent from Honey's shop for too long, swinging by with a basket filled with something didn't suffice, but it was a start. This something was a whole slew of soaps, scented in an array of things she hoped Honey would like.

Didn't suffice? Hilarious. As if the moment Honey laid eyes on the woman her eyes didn't light up like candles before disappearing entirely into her smile, rushing out from behind the counter to meet the other with her arms—deftly maneuvering around the basket at first to give ❝ MS. RIZA!!! ❞ a joyful squeeeeeeeeze. Only after does she allow the other to pass the gift into her hands, violet eyes aglimmer as they comb the assortment, squealing a little as she did.

❝ My gosh, babe, you're spoiling me!! Aaaaah, I just love love love fancy bath stuffs, ❞ a well-chosen gift for someone so primped and pampered; Hawkeye ought to give herself more credit. ❝ —but there's no gift better than getting to see my most favoritest, gorgeous lady officer in the flesh. How have you been?? Anything exciting going on? Ooooh, let me pop my sign up real quick, and we'll sit down for a sec—❞

[mielmoto]

@reigningsniper said:

" I'm glad you're okay. " (per this post)

❝ ―WELL I'M NOT! ❞ glad was pretty much the furthest possible word to describe the smaller blonde. Mad is a decent rhyme, but fuming captures it better: from the strained tone of a typically chipper voice to the angry tears which clouded lavender eyes.

❝ I told you, I told you we should get out of here; that it wasn't safe! I wasn't asking you to throw yourself into danger without a second thought, I didn't want you to protect me, I wanted us both to be okay! ❞ And yet, for all her shouting and steaming, there is an almost surreal gentleness in her movements: how her fingers map Hawkeye's collection of wounds, effortlessly seeking, cleaning, and preparing, without pressing anywhere too hard or twisting a shorn muscle.

❝ Maybe you've, like, gotten used to people who buy into that shit, as I'm sure a lot of folks in the military get conditioned into, but I'm not one of them―if you went out there and got yourself killed, for me, I'd never forgive you. or myself. Gods, can't you understand that?

Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you like this? Or do you just have, like, no concept of the fact that people might care about you? That you matter, just as much? ❞

[mielmoto]

@reigningsniper replied: I MEAN-

geeeeeeeeeet smooched on.

[dissimulxte]

loooooooooooooooong nudge into a whole body flop, arms outstretched. congratulations. you have been selected as the catnap destination for the evening.

@reigningsniper

[mielmoto]

@reigningsniper said:

"You don't have time to patch me up."

"I'M FINE, JUST GO ON WITHOUT ME!" PROMPTS | accepting

❝ PISH, DON'T HAVE TIME BEFORE—WHAT—when the big scary boogeymen coming back to get me?... actually, don't answer that. ❞ humour which ultimately fails at an attempt to thinly veil nerves, and the bubble of anxious, hollow chuckles to match. Time was, indeed, a precious commodity; rendered so by the sudden onslaught. This was the comeuppance for her curiosity, for ignoring the all-too-predictable threat of consequence which came in hand when befriending a soldier, of all people. What happened to keeping a low profile? Avoiding trouble?

Humans. Such strong, resilient creatures; and yet so delicate at the same time. All it took was a flicker, an exchange of bullets and blows which lasted less than a minute, before two men were laid out by the militant lady in question—and she picked up the parting gift of a wound which shore clean through the muscle and bone of one shoulder. So much blood—where did they even keep it all?

❝ ...it won't take very long, anyways. NOT FOR ME. But... promise not to be mad at me, okay? ❞ for what you think I've done (or for what I really am).

No time to fake the arrays and make a show of it, to even try and pretend she was navigating the proper process of channeling ki as the Alkahestrists did; Honey simply lifts both her hands and lays them on either side of Riza's wound, (pale, soft fingers staining carmine), before the flash comes. An almost familiar sight to anyone who's been up-close-and-personal with alchemy and its related practices, but different at the same time. A different hue, a different shape to the crackling energy... something SURREAL.

But the lieutenant wouldn't have much a chance to dwell on it, either way. Before her heart can beat twice, the wound is not merely closed, but gone entirely; as if it'd never been there in the first place—though the blood-soaked fabric and smeared skin maintain otherwise.

❝ ...See? All better—now let's get going, yeah? ❞