goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

Humans could be very strange. Her only response to his declaration is a quizzical head tilt, before back to her ebook she goes.

It takes him a few moments to remember the trick but soon enough he's smirking and pulling the wrapper from his lips, unfolded and all in one piece. "Ha! Still got it."

"If you say so," what a wrapper had to do with anything was beyond her guess. "Though you might want to get that order done now, if the delivery will take a while."

They could always leave it on the doorstep, of course, but that seems rather undignified.

"Right, I'll call it in." He tucks the candy into his cheek and dials the number by memory- sure he could keep it in his cell phone but the tests for retention kinda stuck even this long after the incident. Besides.

It made him feel better to know it.

One spicy order of beef pad kee mao, bottle of plum wine and candied mango ordered up. In the meantime he tries (and fails) to focus on research for the next video.

"You are good with numbers," she notes absently, moving past heritage revelations and on to a chapter about shopping, while York handles dinner for her. "That is good. A strong memory will allow you to recall spells later, when needed."

Not that he's worried about that when he's more worried about date possibilities. His fidgeting and lack of concentration does draw a sigh from her eventually, however. "So. Have you decided where to take her yet?"

"A concussive blast to the skull leaves a guy with the potential for memory problems. So they made a point for me to pick up habits that' make getting those difficult." Constant repetition of some patterns but- it's been awhile since he had to lean on them for anything big. He's good.

He's actually doing GOOD. Better than he has in awhile. It's a nice change.

"Well she's really into eating vegetarian so I thought the nice Punjabi place a few blocks away would be good. Have a little curry, come home for dessert..." Oh man he's gonna get laid. It's gonna be AWESOME.

"They train -- trained -- young mages in such things to ensure they could recall perfectly that which the began incantations for you." Almost a pity he hadn't done the same when summoning her. Then again, he might have sent her back if he had.

This far, things were working out better than for worse.

There's a snicker at the mention of dinner plans in full. At least this is something he can focus on, since his work is slacking. "Should I bind your room for silence? Or do you care who hears you enjoying dessert?"

"...can you do that? I think you, um. Could? Because I don't wanna be that guy that has his lady making noise and keeping everyone else up. If I'm gonna be a bit of a brag about it." And he could. Would. Will. He's got a mouth on him, does York. And he does like to use it.

"If they cannot hear it, then they won't believe you." Then again, it's not the neighbours he'd be bragging about it to, now is it. Green slitted eyes narrow a moment, before up she surges, Maxine whining in feline fashion as she's dropped back to the couch, and the demon sashays over to York's room.

Yes. Yes, she can certainly bind for silence. With certain keys to allow calls, if he absolutely needed her. She's not foolish enough to leave no outs in the event of..something unpleasant.

Best not to mention that when he has such a specific goal in mind. It's nice to see him in such a positive frame of mind - not that he hadn't been before.

...It was strange, to find herself a positive influence over a human. Whatever would they think of next.

"I should have this done by the time food arrives," she says at last, still lingering at the door. Before looking back over one shoulder at him, wings shifting to stretch out, then reshape themselves about her. "Might I have your consent to enter?"

"Not all that worried about them, really. The important people will know." Him, the lady in question, Maxine, and Carolina. More or less. He's not all that sure how detailed Carolina's gonna want him to get but- he'l try to oblige. Right.

Study. Research. HE can do this.

"Sure. My home is your home, you can enter whatever room you like." He's gonna regret that later when he remembers how broad the statement was.

So much regret. Later.

She sweeps in immediately once permission is given; she has license to go where she pleases now, and he'll have to put a great deal of effort in to reverse that. Until then, however..

She steps cautiously forwards, frowning to herself, before extending one hand out, palm up. Flecks of black dust begin to be drawn in, swirling in place, mixing in flickers of orange-gold light. Her talons close inwards, quashing the power, before her wrist turns and her hand is held over his bed.

Then Carolina steps back and closes her eyes. There's no wind at all today, but energy briefly surges within York's room, glyphs forming, flashing into sooty existance on walls and glass panes, before disappearing entirely. Unseen, except to those who cared to look closely - and then they'd be a faint, translucent sheen only.

Motes of light scatter from her palm, coming to rest over his bed. Once dusted, she draws a sigil with a claw across the center of the sheets; whatever flesh comes to contact here will be sealed in the spell for as long as they remain in the room.

Tidying up the livingroom- didn't want her thinking he was a SLOB now, did he? York misses the beginning of the spellcasting- but sticks his head in to catch the glyphs and the flash and the light.

Now that.

That is seriously cool. How can he not love magic when things come out looking so damn awesome?

"Have I mentioned how kickass you are today?"

"You have not seen me 'kick ass' yet," she assures him once the last of the spell layers has been placed, and her eyes open. They're glowing, a light that takes a little time to fade while she remains in the room. Still, she's not oblivious to the praise; it's clear that she's pleased that she's pleased him, and her head remains held high as she steps back into the living room proper.

"No, but you're still awesome." Praise is important, especially when someone is doing you a favor. He'll ask after the processes involved in casting that spell later, for now he's got a text about the food at the front door. "Meal's here. I'll run down and grab that."

She'll teach him the basics to build up to this level of casting at some point; silent prowling can be a useful glyph to cast on ones self, for example. For now, however, she nods acknowledgement as she heads off to get the food.

She doesn't feel drained, which is fortunate. And even if she had, the meal York's called in for her would do the trick to settle things. Veiling herself between world layers, she settles back on the couch. Just in case. Once the door closes, she'll will herself to appear again.

Down to the front and back up, order in his arms and a bright smile on his face. A good night ahead and a good night in for his roomie (his demon pal he needs to think MORE about that) but it's all. Good.

For once.

He opens the door one handed and sets her meal out on the coffee table. "I really need to invest in a proper dining set. I think I've got room."

Only once the door closes does she fade in again, already as eager as the cat as the scent of new food wafts her way. Mmmm yes please.

"If you think that you'll host meals here, it is something to consider." Space is always at a premium, that much she's gathered from his bitching about the rent, so including that here would mean it has double duty.

"It'd give me somewhere better to shoot, too." Huh. Something to think about. For now he checks his phone for the time and heads back to the door, waving. "I'll be back after dinner. Use my netflix account if you wanna watch anything and don't scare the downstairs neighbours again. Those conversations are awkward."

"I wasn't that loud," she pouts, liberating her meal from the bag, setting the cartons out beside her plate. "You did not warn me that your 'scary movies' were such dull comedy. Now, those 'romances', those are the truly horrific things."

How could anyone watch that drivel and take it even remotely seriously? Ergh.

"I guess it's all relative when you've actually been to an infernal plane." He shrugs. "Try the actual horror-comedies. Those are a hoot. You might even like Evil Dead!" Boots on, wallet, phone, keys- and he's out the door. It'll be a good night.

It'll be a great night.

It ends up being a fantastic date. Dinner's awesome, there's a few drinks afterward, hell they even dance a little at the club before he begs off on account of sudden movement and she just rolls with it. Hands in his shirt drags him back out to breathe, to calm down, and to get back to his apartment.

They're more or less locked together when he gets the door open. He's got one hand down her skirt and the other on his keys while they stumble inside, mouths locked tight.

The Evil Dead? Currently not showing on Netflix. >:|

Horror comedies do keep her up a few hours, at least, though she's still not entirely certain of the appeal, and eventually switches over to a documentary. Or two. Or three.

The TV is off the moment she senses him in range, lights out once she's certain that the taxi is outside. There's no sign of any roommate, sleeping or otherwise, as they stagger inside, demon hidden from all views, layered between realms and comfortably unseen, watching the human's curiously. Knowing a little about his preferred tastes might come in handy some day. But this IS the first dalliance he's had in longer than he'd admit, and until he crosses the threshold into his own room, she has no qualms watching.

He doesn't spare a thought to anyone or anything other than her mouth under his, the way she twists and whines when he curls his fingers like that. Clever hands. Good to know he's still got it. What comes next takes a little doing but he hefts her in his arms, sweeping her thighs around his waist as he carries her from the front door. All of one second is spared to kick it shut before he stalks to the bedroom, lips working down the long line of her neck and shoulder.

The whining isn't loud, not yet, but she'd forgotten how intent humans could be when focused on one another. The gym work he'd resumed meant he could carry this girl off with easy, still working her open in spite of the change in their positions - yes, he would certainly leave this one with a tale to tell come morning.

And blessed silence to follow, once he got her into his room.

There is a lot more whining before the night is through. And some screaming- and that's BEFORE he gets his business involved. Hell, halfway through he has to tap out to grab some more water and a fresh roll of condoms. In and out of the kitchen in less than five seconds, he knows how to find what he needs.

Come morning he is...exhausted. Happily exhausted. Slept through the whole night curled around a gorgeous woman. It'd been fun.

He'd like it to happen again. Enough that he slips out of bed after rousing her to tell her he was making breakfast and actually pulls on some pants so he CAN cook breakfast.

Frying bacon and naked manbits- not fun.

"Someone had a good night."

There's a great deal of amusement radiating in the voice that speaks up, Carolina draped again on the couch with her tablet. There's a hint of illusion to her, however, a visible if York squints just right - instead of just a demon, there's an image of a redhaired human woman, smartly dressed but not business-like. The oft mentioned and always unseen 'roommate'.

"Will you be wanting more alone time? I can make myself scarce if you do."

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And lo, it is confirmed that like cats, demons are voyeurs

creepy demon voyeurs

You get what you summoned, York

he doesn't REMEMBER what he summoned t-t

How do you forget you summoned a DEMON, being high is no excuse!!