Welcome to Gaia! ::

For his entire life, Bo had made it a habit of collecting friends in all situations. He could walk into a public restroom at the beach and walk out with an invitation to someone's birthday party. He held the door open for a stranger and returned with a phone number. It wasn't that he was constantly coming onto people, no. Bo just exuded warmth and friendliness in an approachable way that consistently had people, well, approaching him.

Falling in with Harmony had been pretty typical of him. She was cute, fun, and artistic. He could spend hours with someone he had almost nothing in common; it was simple to spend time a person who he had a lot in common with. The Dionysus shoot had been fun, even if Harmony was serious, and the other meet-ups had been similarly entertaining. He didn't even bat an eyelash when they made plans to meet up again at her apartment to check out the photos.

In his typical way, Bo was late. But only 25 minutes late! Which was good for him. (Seriously.) He was wearing a wrinkled orange t-shirt from a hot dog stand where he used to work at the beach in Florida and a pair of loose-fitting gray cargo shorts. His flip-flops slapped every step of the way up to her door. The entire ensemble was capped off by his favorite light-blue hoodie and a braided rainbow headband he wore across his forehead -- picked up from a music festival a year ago. His appearance was not excellent, but it held the same sloppy casual smoothness that Bo tended to radiate in general.

Bo stepped up to the door and knocked a little overenthusiastic pattern. A bag dangled in his hand -- a six-pack of beer. He hadn't really asked in advance if she cared if he brought it. OH WELL.

Bo accepted the hug with a grin, lifting Harmony off the floor a few inches. It was his preferred way to hug, the other person dangling off him. Certainly beat constantly stooping down for people. He passed the beer off to her with a casual and weird, "Coolio, thanks," and then stepped further into the apartment. Hands on hips, he gave it a quick spin.

"Nice digs, like the vibe." It was a generic compliment. Bo was full of them. Plus, it was nice to have friends with nice apartments. They were sometimes strong candidates for letting him crash if his own housing situation fell through, as it did from time to time when Bo became more irresponsible than usual with his finances.

When Harmony passed him the photos, Bo smiled wider, flipping through them slowly as if absorbing every detail. He flopped down beside her on the couch, his arm rubbing down the length of hers. "I am a patron of the arts, I said. And also arts education! My civic duty," he explaining in mock seriousness. The photos eased down and Bo returned his focus to Harmony. "These are killer, Harm, seriously stellar." He flicked her in the arm with the stack of photos.

The arm closest to Harmony lifted up and then draped over her shoulder, a thumb rubbing her shoulder. Bo wasn't really thinking when he did it; he was just touchy. It happened. "Even Dionysus would sober up long enough to enjoy these!"

"Mischief? Me? Never," Bo said playfully. "Thanks, they shall make killer additions to my wall collage."

His bedroom was like an artistic serial killer's: photos, clippings, and drawing layered every inch, a patchwork of his scattered brain. Old things often got covered up, and then, years later, when something would fall off, Bo would rediscover an old song lyrics or doodle that would fill him with the warm swell of nostalgia that he liked so much. It was also fun, which helped.

A long, contented sigh escaped his lips as he reclined on the couch. Photos, new friend, nice apartment -- these were all reasons to be Very Satisfied. And it wasn't really difficult to satisfy Bo, in general. He tapped his thumb a few times, not noticing how her gaze moved.

When he felt her eyes on him, Bo glanced down to face her, smiling. "What?" he asked. "You look like you want to say something to me." Captain Obvious.