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@inrovina said: “trust me, would you?”
the windmill.
xeno's never been good at hiding when he's up to something. to mutt, it might as well be plastered all over his face for how poorly concealed it is to his keener eye.
"what are you going to do."
@oathwilled : ❛ i'm glad i came 'cause i get to eat this. ❜
His own job, if it could be called that, was flexible. It paid well enough now his name had spread from person to person but he didn't run to a schedule and it wasn't anywhere near as important as Paerin's, a fact he tried to keep in mind when he'd suggested the two of them drive away in his van for a night or two. He'd suggested a night, he'd hoped for two but he'd thought that silently. Aksel had gotten used to the others company, maybe more than he'd attended but the sex was one thing, his company another, but he was under no illusions, to even consider being in the others league would be delusional. They were very different people.
But it didn't matter when they were getting to enjoy one another's company, van parked up on the side of the road, the small barbeque lit so they could melt the marshmallows before turning them into s'mores with the rest of the ingredients. " I am glad you came, you saved me from myself. " He winked at the other and pulled the marshmallow of to squash it between the chocolate and crackers. " - but you may have to run home tomorrow if you're planning on getting up early, I will not be going anywhere fast after this. " At least now his foot had healed enough to allow him to drive for longer periods. " - or you could just stay. "
(softly) nice. well at least i have the basic info for a modern verse ... sylvie IS still a god, but they have a neat little wrapped story about how they came to live where they are and did take a degree on botany. otherwise in this verse they truly try to keep their true nature under wraps unless you’re also a supernatural being.
their hair is “dyed” (aka fabricated to look like they dyed their hair and that there’s black roots but their hair is just the same colour as it normally is), and their ears are normal human ears this time around.
definitely a bit of a party animal and still does dumb stuff for fun, definitely would consider tattoos (which is not technically permanent on them but they like the idea). your local loud, extroverted friend who likes trying things out, is sporty, and can be found buried in flowers and plants and gardening. most likely has a youtube channel for something ... either food or a vlogging one.
@leolaceri didn’t exactly ask for a thing...
Slender fingers ruffle the golden hair that brushes his brow, her smile gentle and teasing as she leans closer, her gaze holding his steady as if she is searching his soul through the portal of jade-green eyes. Truthfully she has lamented every moment that has kept her away, every day that stretched out interminably since the last time she had been by his side, and now that she is here the only word that echoes through her mind is “home.”
But it is too soon for such thoughts, too soon to allow herself to entertain the notion of forever, so it is with firm resolve that she shuts the door on the little voice in her head urging her to stake her claim upon Jaime Lannister here and now. Settling instead for a milder approach, she presses a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering for perhaps a heartbeat too long before drawing back enough to see his features clearly.
“Did you miss me?”
‘ have you ever seen a cat turn around in a small space? best thing i’ve ever seen. ‘
@girlcoyoted / sc.
verse : modern.
thomas ragetti. jewel appraiser, pawn shop owner, and enthusiastic purveyor of oddities and all things curious in camden town, london. more info to follow !
❛ HEIGHTENED SENSORY AWARENESS, ❜ hawke explains, tapping a carton of menthols against her palm. ❛ like an LSD trip without the chemical. you stop dreaming, get all finicky, mind’s a blur. big cognitive bitch to come out of. happens to every seasoned burn - out. ❜
god, she hates this place. nothing to do with the barracks of bodies just a few short feet away, either --- more so with the fact that it hadn’t been touched since the sixties, at the very latest, and had not aged well. linoleum floors had long matured from egg white to a sort of reluctant piss - stain yellow, as if someone had given up halfway through furiously scrubbing their trousers with a paper towel and just decided to let nature do its thing. the walls were no better, the lighting was grey and flickered often ( doing her whole leather - jacket - daydream absolutely no justice beneath it ), and ... well, it just plain smelled bad.
the disgust keeps itself toned to the professionally - muted grimace she pulls every now and again, however more alluded to in the steady shift of weight between legs --- but that could just be boredom.
❛ but you seem adjusted, so i wouldn’t worry about it, ❜ she continues on the cusp of a smirk, tucking a cigarette behind her ear for later. a free hand slips into the breast pocket of her jacket and unveils an all - too - familiar vial, contents the same lightning blue - white as the gleam of deviltry ever - present in her slackened gaze. she wiggles it promisingly.
❛ afterall, you’re eighty - percent of my clientele all on your own. you quit now, i don’t eat. ❜
* DIALOGUE STARTER. ( @hathlostway )
@inrovina
" you're worse than a dog. " the twitch gracing one corner of his mouth is more wryly judgmental than amused.
yes, he does recognize the irony. " wipe your face. "
