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 Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:00 am
He'd wanted nothing more than to put his shirt back on, and the second she told him to do it he realized he wouldn't. Stubbornly, he only reached to break off another tiny piece of crust. "Twice? Who else did you ******** of--oh right. Bashmet." The grin came back sudden and much fiercer, but turned down to his hands, veiled by popping the crumb into his mouth. Secretive. "How'd you get that intelligence, anyway? You two got a thing going? I'm impressed at his conquest and disappointed by your taste."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:14 am
America's irritation gave way to total disgust, the comment distracting her almost entirely from her previous displeasure. "Conquest? Really, you think he could ******** conquer me? I kicked his goddamn a** fair'n square before moving him down to the basement 'til I could figure out what he's good for. Which is repairing goddamn walls," she waggled a finger at Taym, "...and nothin' beyond. And how I found out is because I have ways and what he doesn't have is a proper door. Or a private bathroom. And what he's got is really hard to miss even if you don't have an eye out for that sort of thing, which I most assuredly do."
She huffed and scoffed a bit more, <******** conquest. Me." Giving the ridiculous notion a moment to simply wonder at, America finally spoke up again, "'M not apologizing. I came with pie."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:24 am
The grin just turned more and more into a lip-bitten and insufferable smirk, lopsided and suppressed, the longer she went on. "Figure of speech, darlin'," he offered in as mollifying a tone as he could (the accent crept in around the edges, all soft and hidden and drawling, as it so rarely did any more unless he was laughing or trying not to), turning his head away to exhale his smoke, not that it had anywhere to go in the tiny room. "And I wasn't expecting you to. And thank you for the pie, even if you didn't bring me a ******** fork and demanded a show for it. Could have at least stuck a five in my waistband. Or a fork," he realized. "Handle first. I'm not into that s**t either. That I know of. Maybe I could be instructed." The crudity resurfaced like the old habit it was. It was bound to happen at some point.
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:33 am
The girl rolled her eyes, "I was expecting you to have some of your own, god's honest truth. Even more so when I saw that you keep such a nice and tidy place, beyond all such expectations. I woulda offered mine, but you riled me a bit, and I'll admit that manners aren't a priority when I'm feeling riled, you understand?"
America didn't apologize, but she did offer up the peach pie and a smirk of her own. "An' if you want the cash money, you'll have to do a whole more than take off a shirt, sugar."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:45 am
The pie was sufficient apology on its own. He reached to take it, cigarette set aside--it pained him to let it burn unattended in an ashtray when they were so hard to come by, but he let it--and shamelessly, without apology, he started to pry up a bit of the crust with the end of a pen. "Is that an invitation?" he asked, shooting her a sideways look, grin broadening. Maybe she could make a note on her little memo book that although his teeth were the color of an inside of an old coffee mug, they were straight, and despite any assumptions one might make on the basis of his initial appearance, they appeared to be fully intact. Two out of three. "I really do question your ********' taste. Rumors compel me to feel reluctant to follow Bashmet's act, though." Which of course only translated to so you're safe, the self-deprecation dripping off the words. He procured a bit of peach filling, and ate it like it was a spoonful of caviar instead of a dehydrated slice months away from the fields and dripping in high fructose corn syrup. "You done?" he asked, licking his thumb. Rude.
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 5:56 am
Teeth were a priority stat, often checked first along with an attempt to discretely do a breath check. She lifted her eyebrows at him, "Isn't that what got me here in the first place?" She made another note in her book, all talk little walk, and absently defended Konstantin, "He's useful and likes being useful, so I have excellent ******** taste, excuse you. Whatever rumors you've heard they pale at my ******** reality, got that?"
Looking up, America grinned, "Not nearly. Now tell me, how do you like your women? Be honest now, nobody wants to waste time pining in a direction that ain't gonna be interested."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 6:10 am
This time he did laugh, startled out of him, and he'd traded the pie for the cigarette again, apparently sated on a single slice of rehydrated peach in syrup. "Nosy. I seriously doubt anyone's got designs on pining for me, sweetheart. You know what I look for in a woman? Four limbs and a pulse." He paused, and thought of Rin, whom he'd only seen at a distance, but what the hell: "The limb number is negotiable provided it's lower, not higher." Which didn't stop him from adding distractedly, with an indulgent wave of his cigarette: "The ability to carry on a conversation is nice. And a laugh that doesn't make your teeth hurt. Someone who's read Lolita and appreciates it for what it is. Freckles. God, I love freckles. And redheads, begging your pardon," he added, coughing a laugh into his bare bony shoulder like he'd insulted her. "But mostly, you know. Skin and a face and two X chromosomes, and we're probably good to go."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 6:25 am
America took detailed notes despite his doubts. She tried to keep a schooled and serious expression as she wrote, but the redhead comment earned him a pleased wink. Summarizing it all, she added at the bottom:
Short Term: easy as pie
Long Term: has standards, you better be willing to read a ******** book
"You've never been a girl, so don't pretend to know what each and everyone of us wants," she lectured, high and mighty for a girl of eighteen. "I can think of a couple who cast eyes at you and I can see why. You've got that bone structure, the dramatic sort that can leave a person staring for days in the right sort of light. And don't get me started on the scruffy I've seen things, done things, yeah I'm a bit of trouble honey style you have going despite," she gestured widely at the immaculate room, "...you're obvious ability to keep your s**t in tight order."
She sounded half impressed and half disgusted by this point.
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 6:41 am
Taym was extremely soft to flattery, even when he was still completely convinced that it was all thinly overlaying sincere mockery. The lopsided smirk had subsided into a lopsided, embarrassed smile, aimed down at his free hand distractedly and unthinkingly prodding the spiral scar on his hip for want of anything better to do. "With military ******** precision," he said quietly, apparently appeased. Maybe none of his old vanity remained, but it had left a space neatly fitted around compliments, pathetically easy to access. "Despite the lack of foresight that leaves me lamentably unequipped with silverware. Which I intend to remedy, now that you've shown me the error of my ways. You're welcome to continue telling me nice things about me," he added pleasantly, with another lupine show of teeth as he lifted his cigarette.
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 6:51 am
With one last roll of her eyes, America gathered up her camping fork, Konstantin woulda had forks, and pocketed her notebook after a writing a few quick, final lines. "Well, you're willing to see the error of your ways and remedy them."
Giving him one last grin, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and left the room, calling out, "Obedience is one of my most favourite traits in a worthwhile man."
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Posted: Sat Jan 11, 2014 6:55 am
"Better stick with Bashmet then," he called after her without watching her go. He waited til the door closed behind her to lean his head back, to stub out his cigarette and fold his hands over the belly she'd claimed he was developing (horrors), and to grin at the ceiling. He remained that way for a few minutes before the grin faded to a smile, and then disappeared entirely. He sat up. "What the hell," he demanded aloud of Fiona, "am I going to do with six pies?"
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