Welcome to Gaia! ::

Retrieval

The door opened without any sort of dramatic groan, the hinges having been oiled to within an inch of becoming vaguely pornographic, and America half in work out clothes half in uniform, looked up at him with a veritable bird's next of hair and a floss pick sticking out of her mouth. Stepping aside, she let him and resumed her daily routine.

The interior of the room was cozy as one could make a dungeon, with an open doorway between her room and the next. There was a small bookshelf containing mostly the particularly prized magazines, various binders, two actual books, and a large photo album. But it's possible Taym's attention was drawn, for once, not on the books but toward the walls. Posters of musicians, herself in a pikachu suit, and various hunters were hung up. Including his own.

The blanket and coat were neatly folded on the bed, softer and more fragrant than the usual, with the plastic deer and pen sitting on top. "Sorry again about making off with them," she greeted him, inspecting her teeth in a mirror. "And about the sexual molestation an' all, though most boys I'd just tell them you're welcome."

New Views

"What exactly," he asked, examining the boxes and very pointedly not examining the tempting space between them, "makes this type of pocky 'For Men'?"

New Views

With a disgusted sigh, America rolled her eyes and assumed a more natural posture. "I don't know, I haven't tried them. Like what if they make me grow a d**k? I've heard things, Obadiah. And the last time I had a d**k it was like walking with a two liter bottle between my legs, just the ******** worst." She shoved the tofu one a bit closer, "Take this one too, I know you like weird food."

Retrieval

He closed his eyes, slowly, and pressed his thumbs to them, patiently dispelling his mounting irritation. <******** creepy," he informed her finally, "although I support that one wholeheartedly." He pointed at Caelius bristling with darts. And then he laughed. "Is that Bix? Jesus."

SHIPS IN THE NIGHT

He closed his eyes, slowly, and pressed his thumbs to them, patiently dispelling his mounting irritation. The trainee talking at him--and at him was the best that could be said--didn't seem to notice, chattering on while jabbing a thumb at something on his phone.

When America passed the two of them (maybe she meant to trail so close; maybe she'd been trying to get him to notice her tattoo; maybe she hadn't even noticed him there; maybe it was a coincidence brought on by the crowded hallway) Taym didn't move, didn't interrupt, did not in fact even look up from where he was examining the screen with his brow vaguely furrowed. He only reached out and blindly, gently, brushed his fingertips against her elbow.

(When he saw her later he was the same: withdrawn, sarcastic, shying away from any intrusion into his personal space.)

Ships in the Night

She'd noticed him, of course, though she was busy and a fair bit distracted herself. Passing by, America had thought she felt Taym reach for her, but as she turned to look, to smile and give a quick how-do, he was still buried in whatever it was talking to whoever that was. Must've been someone else just brushing by. Her smile turning wry, the girl went on her way, forgetting to even mention seeing him in the hall next time she visited.

Just Curious

America glanced at the messages, and quirked a smile at the random topic. Whatever could have made him interested in that project? Last she'd heard he didn't want to talk about this sort of thing.