goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"I dunno, I might surprise you." He steps back and strips off his tanktop, mopping his forehead with it. Never let it be said a few rounds with Malcolm isn't a workout. "Now that's juts mean, man. I thought my improving spoke well of you."

"It does, but I still have my pride. Easily bruised, you see." He feels the weight in one hand, slow dip one way, then the other. A short twirl.

"Obviously the point isn't to smack each other silly. I don't think I have to explain how this works to someone as experienced as you. I certainly wouldn't let some of the kids try to fight with these yet when they still can't quite grasp the idea of physical communication rather than absolute dominance. Ha, although, given our conversation, it sounds like I haven't quite learned that, either." Good thing terribly bruised egos is just a joke.

The best that Wash can manage right now is a low hum of contentment as he lets Taylor pull him close against his chest, stroke his hair, treat him like something precious, like something that he can protect. It's a nice feeling. One that he could get lost in. He presses his lips against Taylor's neck, mouthing idly at it, tasting the salt on his skin.

For once, it's easy to forget what's lying outside.

"Nope. It's a dialogue, not a fight." So he'll have to dial up into whatever Mal's thinking of. He takes the stick as it's offered and it's like he'd never put the damn things down. For half a second he's twirling it on his hand, slipping back into a stance that's not his. Lighter, leaner, hips cocked just so, head and shoulders braced.

Carolina's stance.

"It's different when you're teaching than when you're looking for a partner, you'll be fine. I trust you."

"...I promise I won't tell anyone you put out on the first date." He mumbles, as soon as he can think in whole words again. This is nice but it also feels a little- heavy. He's tired of heavy. Everything outside can be heavy. in here? it needs to be nice and light and easy.

David thinks that he mishears for a second, or imagines it. There's a moment of wide-eyed incredulity before he begins to laugh, burying his face against Taylor's shoulder with helpless snickers. "Well, I appreciate you defending my honour."

He has to stop and watch Taylor slide into a somewhat feminine pose, something that doesn't really look like his, as easy as breathing. It's impressive, and he knows the answer before he even asks the question, but it comes out anyway. "What is that all about?"

"It'll be my job to ensure there's no fuss tto distract you," she replies firmly, returning the squeeze - not too hard. But hard enough that he knows she means business. Don't test her grip if you don't can't deal with being tested back.

"I'll see you at the rehersal." Perhaps D's concerns were unfounded - but she didn't think so.

And as long as things went off without a hitch....they could worry about telling him, properly, about things during his 'hiatus'.

She's not particularly mollified by his excuses, especially if her glare is anything to go by. But after a minute of staring him down, her wings tighten across her form and she turns, taloned feet stepping lightly over carpet. No, she's not sitting, yet, but she won't loom.

For all that he has a few good inches on her.

Instead, she stops and eyes the circle smudged inexpertly at her feet --the runes are atrocious, for all that the binding marks are correctly placed-- before tilting up her chin. "Had you slanted these in the opposite direction, you would not have lived long past midnight." He does not appear harmed, but: "Are you certain you did not spill blood?"

"Most mortals are not capable of calling into the higher planes and opening a tear large enough to allow for reconvergence." It was not her first foray into this world, after all. Then after a some consideration, she shrugs. "..Don't be. This state of affairs is far preferable to being summoned on the whim of impotent men who's only demands are gold, assassination or power, or some combination there of."

And without a single thought about the consequences. Then again, this one wasn't all that different in that respect.

"What do I call you." Master isn't an option, green eyes warn with a hint of glow.

He chuckles. "They certainly are a handful. I wouldn't have it any other way, though." He has to stop a child from running by just then but for the most part everyone's behaving and enjoying choosing something to read, it seems. For now he decides to continue hanging by the desk. "Kids need their creativity," he continues.

"Someone has to." He shrugs and turns enough to press a kiss into David's hair. They're far from home and might never get there again but this? This is good enough. More than.

Okay wow, that's a strong grip. Rather than distressing York it just- makes him that much more interested. "Is something happening that I don't know about?"

D knows how he feels about flying blind. In that he hates it. And he hates shit being kept from him.

"...We're not gonna get flash mobbed again, are we? Not that it wasn't fun but, um. Kind of hard to control the crowd."

"Nnnnnot on purpose." He tries to think back and wanders back over to the camera, rewinding the footage and viewing the setup. "Ketchup, all of it. I do remember trying to get goat's blood from the butcher's but they don't deliver and for some reason I had to do it last night. So if there's blood and it's mine it was an accident- I say having summoned you on accident in the first place." Something about the moon? The stars being in alignment? There are some pages about the weather and phase of the moon in a journal on the table so that might be it.

Thing one: Make sure no one gets his notes. Seriously. Someone could fuck themselves up and if even HE can do it? Not a good sign for anyone else.

"What, is that the usual demand? Wow. Douchy." Like having no idea what to ask for is better. "Um...Is this one of those 'true names grant power' things or is that only the fey? I don't know where the lines fall in supernatural creatures."

After a moment he shrugs and settles on an empty space on the sofa. "Fuck it. Anything happens I kind of earned it. My name's Taylor but most people call me York. Nice to meet you miss...? What do I call you?"

"Keeps them innocent. Ish." He leans back to peer around the guy, good eye narrowed. "Looks like someone's trying to climb on a table. You wanna say something or should I be the bad guy?"

Drew's closer than the other man, who would have to come around his desk, so he just shakes his head and walks over to the kid to coax him down. After a little more child-wrangling he returns. "Are you our reader today?" he asks. Usually Martha read to the kids but she clearly isn't here.

It hits a note. Someone has to protect his humanity, and it sure as hell hasn't been Wash himself. Not for a long time. "Hey," he asks quietly. "It okay if I stay here tonight?" He wasn't sure if that was something Taylor would want. If he'd prefer his space or just doesn't want things to get that close. He knows Taylor had slept with North, maybe it's weird to do it with him?

"what is what?" He's not even thinking about it- this is what feels right. The balance, the weight- none of it is how he'd normally hold himself but it-s

It just fits.

"Mmm. Sure." He squirms and shifts until he's gotten himself properly tangled with Wash- he'll worry about cleanup and the wet spot in the morning. For now? this is good. "Sleep better with someone here anyway."

"...Reader?" Okay that- that he hadn't known about but now that he thinks about it usually the kids do get a list of books to choose from and someone has to read it and Martha isn't IN today so that leaves.

him.

Fuck.

"Oh. Oh sh- sugar. Sweet, sweet sugar." He clamps a hand over his mouth at the near slip. Okay. Reading in front of kids. he can do this.

Wash settles down when York is curled up against him in a tangle of limbs and warmth. Tomorrow he is sure there will be rumours flying all around the base but who cares about that right now? He gives a soft hum of pleasure and settles down. "Maybe it'll work for me too. And... thanks."

"...Hm." Well, if it fits, he can't knock it. Malcolm would rather York gain a posture and style of his own, but he'll work with what he's got. "Very well. Hit me with your best shot."

He chuckles at the mistake and waves over toward the rocking chair which is set up in the open part of the floor. "I could always do it, if that's putting you on the spot," he says.

"For dinner, for a place to crash, for helping with all this, for apologizing, or for the orgasm?" Cuz these things come in degrees, man."

He didn't need to be told twice, darting in and swinging the stick high and hard. Carolina never held back with him and neither, honestly, had Malcolm. It's something he's always appreciated in the man.

"...Yeah I- I'm not really..." Certified isn't the right word but it's not all that far off. "comfortable. Reading in front of people. Or with crowds. It's um. why I'm usually in the corner."

RP Open Post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Schoolteacher AU

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject