loungelizard | Prisma ♦︎ Inbox

[It would be that he'd get a text like this while in a mood like this.

He's swaddled himself in a blanket, lights shut off and windows closed to leave himself in total darkness, except for the light cast by the television as it plays some Prismatica nature documentary that he's already seen.

The phone in the otherwise empty seat beside him buzzes and lights up, and he gives it a suspicious side-eye. He pulls out an arm from his blanket cocoon and picks it up to read the message.

Moira...huh.

He pulls out his other arm so he can type out a message.

Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood.

Now, I don't know how the network app works on these things, but if they have this functionality, Moira might see his activity writing out a message and then a long pause that follows it as his thumb hovers over send.

He kind of is in the mood, though. He'd much rather be dancing than feeling miserable for himself. The problem is...like everything else this week, a certain someone is probably going to get in the way and ruin everything. Larry considers his options for a while, then an idea pops into mind: maybe if he wears his tucking gaff, it would be enough for a night out on the town.

He erases his message and types out another.]

Not at all! I'm all yours, babe. Name the place and time and I'll be there.

[ She does, she herself hanging on most every word she doesn't type herself, and she starts to fashion a reply to backpedal until he finally does reply, leaving her to think twice about what she sends.

She decides to be absolutely plain instead, leaving little room for misunderstanding. It was better that way, right? ]

Well, when would be good for you?
And I'll be upfront, Sanguis has had me in a state, I can't imagine your moon has been any kinder.

[ She wavers, but some cocky, moon driven impulse drives her next message. ]

If we'd had other things in mind, I certainly wouldn't miss the pleasantries.

[ God, even in Sanguis he can't just proposition someone properly. ]

I'm

[ughhh. how does he say it without being a downer.]

getting through it.

[And because she says "Sanguis", he figures she's talking about anger and irritability instead of horny. Most of the Sanguises he knows like to duke it out to get it out of their system, so he just runs with an assumption.]

You want to blow off some steam? We don't have to dance if you want to do something else. But...I'm not much of a fighter.

[ With a tsk, she replies, slightly annoyed with herself. Perhaps this was a silly notion, but she was overly confident she hadn't read him wrong during their last little outing. She's not sure she could be more blatant without offending, anything else and she may as well have played Scarborough Fair and started calling herself Mrs. Robinson. ]

Blowing off steam, yes. Fighting you, absolutely not. [ For his safety more than hers, she's absolutely sure it'd be no contest. ]

Just getting through it? Are you alright?

[No contest in the slightest.]

Yeah, just the usual. Insane appetite, smell like a winter getaway.

[Notice how he avoids whinging about the least likely complaint to ever be made on the face of the planet.]

What did you have in mind then? I don't really care, as long as I have your company.

[Since he can't read between the lines, he has no choice but to try to pull it directly out of her.]

[ Some small part of her thinks she must have misread him then. Entirely. After all, he mentioned no complaint before about his moonblessings. And if not that and he's as dense as she's finding, her abraisive wit might be entirely too eager to burn a bridge.

But then he goes and says something like that, about not caring as long as she's company, and her annoyance is completely and entirely, rescinded. ]

Perhaps I could stop by with take out or something?

While dancing with you is fantastic and all, I haven't the effort in me to get too dressed up, nor compete with anyone else's animosities this evening.

[Food. Say no more, he's already sold.]

Music to my ears. Eyes?

Also, I have some space cleared out at my apartment if you want to do some no-dress-code kind of dancing.

[Nudity implied? Kind of, but not necessarily. He, too, is particularly fond of the idea of not having to dress up to go anywhere right now.]

Haha. Any preferences? I'm pretty partial to Middle Eastern food myself, honestly.

[ Even if nudity was implied, she doesn't exactly mind it. ]

No dress code dancing, well. I think I could be easily convinced.

I think I could be easily convinced.

[A little smile comes to his face as he parrots her back playfully.]

Beef shawarma? As a kebab? No, a salad. No, both. Falafel and hummus. Extra tabouleh and a half dozen dolma? Oh, and a lassi if they have any. Any flavor.

[Christ, Larry, not everyone is loaded like you are.]

Ah...I'm sorry. I'll comp you.

[ She may or may not be chuckling on the other end. ]

Don't worry about it. None of those sound...half bad, actually, now that I'm thinking about it. I feel like I haven't had lassi in...Christ, ten years?

I'll be around in an hour, hour-ish?

Perfect! Feel free to just walk right in on me.

[That gives him enough time to tidy up some odds and ends and put up his hair. Look, it's important. Still gonna rock this fluffy black and blue bath robe though, for sure.]

Edited 2020-03-05 05:47 (UTC)

[ Perhaps it's because of her daily routines or her vanity, or sheer force of habit at this point, but her idea she had of dressed up and not seemed to largely differ from most. Moira arrives at Larry's door with little by way of flashy, but a sleek top and a clean cut pair of trousers did her just as well. Monochrome and smartly chosen, there's a stark contrast with her features; more than there was before. Before, she evokes a keen Annie Lennox, now was just sheer Bowie. Her eyes narrowed, her neck seemed slimmer, cheekbones higher, sharper, and the glitter of iridescent scales caught the light on her more prominent features; just under her eyes, her collar bone. Though the focal point isn't so much her outfit nor her appearance as it is the bags she carrying, which seem to be several, and her typically spartan tote bag of a 'purse' ]

Knock knock~

[Larry's just finishing up putting dishes away from the dish washer when Moira arrives. The whole place reeks of him, and even though the space reads "apartment", the air reads "cozy cabin in the middle of a pine forest in the dead of winter", carrying with it a tranquil environment that might help soothe the edges of Sanguis.

He turns to look at her and smiles.]

Oh, wow! Now that's a look. [He giggles good-naturedly, then nods his head to the empty table in the middle of the kitchen for her to place the stuff down.

...somehow, he's not surprised that this is what Moira considers "dressed down".]

I have some red and rosé chilling in the fridge...if you're interested.

[ She smiles, albeit a mote confused at both the overall air of the place as well as his reaction to her outfit. What comes out of that is a small, cocked brow, and a grin. ]

I might be.

[ Doing as she's offered, the bags are sat on the table, and she begins to delegate. After a moment, it's obvious her edges are beginning to soften. Where other Sanguis smells smokey and burning and acridly alluring, this was...fresher. Comforting, almost. She almost goes without mentioning it. ]

Is...is this normal for your moon? Or is that an air freshener? It's...pleasant.

Every Cordis. Like clockwork! So--thanks!

[He giggles.

Larry actually likes the whole smell thing, and it shows in his tone. He fetches a set of silverware for each of them and takes a seat at the table, distributing the set between the two of them.]

Everywhere I go smells like this for hours after!

[Literally leaving his mark...]

Edited 2020-03-06 03:36 (UTC)

[ Pardon her minute surprise. She's shocked; never had she experienced a scent so pleasant caused by the moon cycles. ]

Huh. Noted.

[ She delegates boxes, opening, then shutting, inspecting what she'd ordered, much of everything he'd requested, but maybe a few more things. In the very last bag, she pulls out a cup for the either of them. A different flavor of lassi for the either of them. ]

I never noticed it before. It must delight your guests.

[ Mentioned matter of factly, now realizing there are several boxes present. It's quite a spread, and then decides definitely on that wine. ]

Would you like a glass?

[He pauses at her assumption to reflect on it.]

No one's said that much. I think they're just trying to be polite...?

[He takes the lassi that she places closest to him, genuinely impartial to flavor.]

Nah, not right now. I'll probably have one after!

[Only because he has that lassi for the time being. He gestures to a cabinet.]

Glassware's up there.

Thank you.

[ She retrieves two, leaving one out for him to use later, thinking quite loudly as she turns the idea over in her mind. Perhaps she was fixated based on the science or the nature of the draw. ]

Perhaps they don't find it as pleasant. Some hormones are naturally more attractive than others, depending on your genetics. Or moon cycles in this case.

[ With a pop, she steadily pours while still thinking. ]

For example. I've met with several Sanguis before; they leave no particular scent, or a potently acrid one. Smoky, I think is the only one I've been able to tolerate. Iris, sweet and saccharine, at least to me. I don't find it very attractive at all, others seem to.

[ She finishes with a slow blink, placing the bottle back into the fridge. ]

But. Enough about that. I said I wouldn't bring work with me. Let's eat.

[Larry is trying to be polite and wait for her to take a seat at the opposite side of the table before he digs in...but his hunger wins out. He sneaks in one of the dolma while her back is turned and manages to house it in its entirety before she turns back around.

But he was still listening, I swear. He swallows first before speaking up.]

Is it considered "bringing work with you" to be pointing out that we have chemistry together? I could've told you that! Heheh.

[And as he intended, he starts eating only after Moira sits.]

[ She does finally sit with her glass in hand, and seems somewhat peckish, but not in entirely for a meal. A little of everything appeals to her tastes, and that's what ends up on her plate. ]

Oh not at all. Bringing work with me is giving you the details of it all.

Not bringing work with me is offering to show you just how much, later.

[ Spicy Sanguis is spicy, and honestly, it's probably the smoothest she's been in easily a decade. ]

[It's fine. He'll eat whatever she doesn't. Waste not want not!

A third of his kebab is shoved in his mouth when she drops that bomb on him. He freezes, staring at her like a deer in headlights over his food.

God. It figures that a woman would come on to him when he's like...this. Just his luck.

But he just can't stop himself. This is what he lives for. This is what gets him up in the morning.

He pulls the kebab out of his mouth and rests his chin in his hand as he leans forward towards her.]

Oh yeah? And just how are you planning to do that?

[And then he takes a bite of his kebab for real this time. A reasonably sized one.]

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bloviates in metatext even though this is just a text exchange

what a gift though

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*she, good god that's what i get for writing tired

honestly I barely noticed

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