loungelizard | Prisma ♦︎ Inbox

[Someone has been a busy little bee ever since Thanksgiving came to a close, honing his design and craft skills...not necessarily for this moment, but it was a big part of it. After all, there are future plans for this outfit...

At one minute before their prescribed meeting time, a woman in a white and blue robe-gown turns the corner to the row that Ford's residence faces. The silhouette is simple, with a large hood that almost appears like a headdress and a length that reaches all the way down to the ground, trailed by a modest train that would be incredibly impractical if she was actually walking through the snow. Her shoulders and hood are embroidered with silver and deep blue patterns, of which end in several strings of free-hanging crystal-and-pearl beaded accents which clatter pleasantly against each other as she moves.

Her make-up is almost ethereally white, brought back into the realm of flesh-tone in comparison to the hip-length stark white wig with straight-cut bangs. She's wearing contact lenses of a similar color, but she keeps her natural brow color and a striking aubergine color on her lip.

Finally--with heavy boot-laden footfalls--she walks like she feels like she's on top of the world, because she does. It helps that she's wearing his favorite colors.

As she approaches Ford's residence, and consequently him, Rue Lette smirks. She separates her hands, hidden once under the layer of her dramatic bell sleeves and again under a thick white shag hand muff, and presents her right hand up to him to demand a hand kiss...or just showing off her nails: stiletto points again, but this time dark blue with silver glitter spots like snow on a dusk background.]

Ford, [she greets.]

[It's times like this that it becomes abundantly obvious that Ford's native genre is a cartoon, because the double-take he does is truly spectacular. It could only be improved by a canned sound effect, but sadly Gravity Falls wasn't that kind of show.

That's her? That can't be her. The last time he saw her she looked like she got chewed up and spat out by the Vegas Strip. Her wig looked like something had tried to make a nest in it and given up halfway through. That's her?

Wow. Suddenly he feels very under-dressed.]

Rue?

[He can't entirely keep the surprise out of his voice. If he were less taken aback, maybe.

What he can do is look at her hand for a long moment like he has no idea what she expects him to do with it. It takes his brain shuffling all the way past his precious few actual interactions with women and into the realm of fiction before he realizes what she's going for. Oh, a hand kiss, like in his fantasy epics. She's dressed the part for that anyway. Very Snow Queen.

He takes the offered hand and presses a light kiss to the back of it. If it leaves a little tingle on his lips, well, that's just the Chroma generation at work.]

I should have worn a nicer coat.

[At this juncture it's reasonable to wonder, just as one might have wondered the first time around, why Ford still doesn't recognize Larry. And the answer is that he's kind of stuck on all the rest of it. That hair alone would be distracting enough to completely hide the man underneath but combine that with the makeup and the outfit? A flawless disguise, particularly if Rue has figured out contouring. It's sort of like putting a lamp in front of a moth and expecting the moth to notice the color of the electrical cord plugging it into the wall.]

[God, his reaction is so cute. Okay, so she knows she's had a lot of growth and practice over these last few weeks, but it's hard to really notice it when you're witnessing it yourself in tiny increments each day. His expression is a compliment that words alone would not achieve.

Yes, she's figured out contouring. Which is the nice way of saying that Rue has a (perceptively) more defined jawline than Larry does, which--combined with the carved cheekbones--is the primary reason why no one recognizes her for who she is.]

The one and only.

[Rue chuckles lightly and squeezes his hand after the kiss, feeling a slight tingle of her own.]

We still have time before our booking, if you want to change.

[She gave them more than enough time for transit, because she didn't know how fast she'd be able to walk in this dress and currently concealed boots.]

[Ah. Shouldn't have said anything. He looks properly sheepish when he says:]

That would require me to have a nicer coat.

[It's not that he didn't pack one, either. This little destination vacation to get away from the bad weather in Lunatia isn't something he packed light for by choice, it's just that he owns precious little to begin with and never saw the point in buying a second coat. The one he has is fine. It's got all the pockets he needs. That and he's pretty sure if he were to try and buy a coat in Lunatia proper he wouldn't be able to get one without sequins or sparkles or some sort of plastic see-through ass window.

Anyway. He carefully extricates his hand from hers because boy is that already a lot of hand contact right off the bat for something that totally isn't a date and is instead just a friendly outing between two friendly friends who are in Nevei together. Frankly he feels accomplished for having plans at all, particularly with the unexpected trip factoring into things. He really is making progress here.]

I'll just make you look better by comparison.

[She doesn't fight him removing his hand from hers. Instead, she just uses it as an excuse to reach out and take him by the crook of his elbow.]

Maybe we'll find one along the way. My treat.

[Rue effectively--despite now being at Ford's side--leads the way, apparently having memorized the route to take to get to the horse-drawn carriages.]

But I like the rugged look too. [She giggles and gives him a wink.]

Edited 2019-12-29 23:43 (UTC)

[Arm-in-arm is good. Fine. Kind of picturesque, in a 'I've seen this in movies but never done it in real life' sort of way. Ford finds he likes it.]

Oh, good. The rugged look I'm good at.

[It's his default state, after all. He's good at it because he doesn't have to try.

The carriage ride also feels a bit unreal. This whole situation does, which is why by the time they arrive at their destination Ford has firmly resolved to lean into it. In his many years of dealing with the surreal he's learned there's no point fighting it unless it's actively making itself a problem, and he'd personally classify this as the opposite of a problem. This is maybe the nicest night he's had in a long time.

He exits the carriage first and then holds out a hand to help her down, something he's fairly certain you're supposed to do.]

[Rue finds herself in a similar mindset.

She could spend a lot of time wondering what she's doing here, what she intends to accomplish, but she gets frustrated whenever she tries to pin it down more specifically than "have fun". After repeated attempts to do so, by the time they get settled into the carriage she loosens her grip around his elbow to press the back of her hand against his. About half way through the ride, she wedges herself between his arm and his body, resting her head and hand against his chest, pretending to find further protection from the cold in his extra layers.

When they get to their destination and Ford offers the gentlemanly gesture of helping her down to the ground, she accepts his hand with a smile.]

Thank you, Ford.

[She leaves a quick kiss on his cheek, as to avoid leaving a mark, before they bid farewell to their driver and go to the lift intake. Rue doesn't give that much mind to the fact that some of the menu items have an age restriction, figuring that they might just have a heavy alcohol content to them.

When they're signalled that their lift is ready after putting in their orders, Rue is relieved to find that the space is already appropriately warm. After weathering the cold for so long, she's more than happy to shed her elaborate coat and hang it on the back of the sofa-booth surrounding the table, revealing the blue dress and white boots that have been hidden underneath this whole time.]

Thank goodness. I was starting to suffocate under all those layers!

[This is more intimate touching in one night than Ford has done in, like, a year? He is now strongly starting to suspect there's a possibility that this isn't a strictly friends sort of thing. Maybe it was the cheek kiss that gave it away. Or is that just a thing girls do? He knows so very little about what girls do in general. Whatever it is it's a good sign and he chooses to focus on that part of it.]

I'm glad that you didn't.

[Not a fan of cold weather, he assumes. The length of that skirt sure says so. Wow. That's not a winter skirt. He wrenches his eyes upward perhaps a little too late to not get noticed looking. If he hides the motion as part of shrugging off his own coat surely that will... probably not do anything to make it less obvious. But a man can try.]

The view is fantastic.

[He means the... like... outside. Through the windows. Not the legs and shoulders. Ahem.]

[Try indeed.

She catches him for a split-second checking out the thigh section. A leg man, huh? Rue can't say that she's surprised, but feels a shocking thrill go up her spine in response. Larry has never felt that before, and the sensation is undeniably addictive. She tries her hardest to hide it.]

If the testimonials are to believed, it's going to get even better.

[She moves to take a seat before the table before their food, crossing her legs. She'll wait for him to take his seat before she starts digging in, and she's apparently gotten a lot more used to handling utensils than the last time Ford witnessed her eating. It doesn't taste like alcohol, but there's definitely a unidentifiable but very pleasant aftertaste.]

Oh, this wasn't at all what I was expecting! But it's really nice. What about yours?

['Leg man' is probably close enough to correct. The siren had an appropriately-fishy tail (it was very nice, very powerful). He never actually got to see what was under Jheselbraum's robes but she didn't move like a bipedal creature. But when it comes to all the female beings he's found attractive that have definitely had legs, the legs were a factor.

He's also realizing exactly how much of this she's planned and orchestrated. The carriage ride, the reservations, all of it. If this were a date that would have been his job and he's privately glad that it's probably not a date (???) so he doesn't have to feel sheepish about it. Instead he settles in on his side of the table. Would it be rude to comment on her improved utensil usage? He imagines so. But he does notice, and internally he's a little proud.]

I'm not exaggerating when I say this is the nicest dinner I've had recently.

[He really isn't. His eating habits leave a lot to be desired, and this food really is fantastic. There's something about the taste he can't place, and there's nothing he likes more than a truly new experience.]

It's always a gamble trying a new restaurant in a universe you're fairly new to. On multiple occasions I was served something still alive and wiggling. This is much less messy.

[Rue doesn't think it all that weird that she did the organizing. Maybe that's what the convention is, but in her...uh, his experience, sometimes if you know each other well enough, sometimes it's best that the lady who knows exactly the experience she wants have the responsibility of setting it up.

Not the experience is very extensive, but it's there.

She giggles.]

I think this place treats us pretty well with this kind of stuff. I can't say all of it has been normal, but it's always looked palatable enough to try.

I'm tempted to ask for you to elaborate, but not if it's going to ruin my appetite.

Prisma ♦︎ Inbox

"ACTION" INDEED

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject