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 Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 4:32 am
Fancy
She sat down on something green and unlikely, and began to do serious poses. The Thinker. The Efficient Secretary. Madame President. I Have a Proposition for You. This is an Intervention. This is a Seduction. This is Me Planning a Murder.
Glancing up, America raised her eyebrows at Kostya, "Well I think it has potential."
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 4:45 am
Technologic
"Oh my god," wide-eyed with disbelief, America punched him in the shoulder. "That's a ******** awesome idea."
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 4:48 am
Let It Go
America quietly began to compose a list of things for Dwight to download, starting with every Disney song ever to be remixed. She had high hopes for Hakuna Matata.
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 4:57 am
All These Roads
Drowsy and near sleep, she curled nearer to him as he spoke and nevermind the midday heat. Smiling, eyes half-closed, America murmured, "Things can always get better." She was glad she'd missed those times, even if the comparison of Then vs Now brought a definite sense of satisfaction.
The girl finally closed her eyes and drew even closer with a soft, "Thank you." There was not explanation of for what or why, but they rarely needed any between them.
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 5:00 am
What the Hell
Leaning over his form, America grinned triumphantly, "Damn right I do! You want a piggyback ride?" Never let it be said that America wasn't a gracious winner.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:34 am
Fancy
"Potential to never, ever, cross a portal."
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:35 am
Technologic
They specced out the best way to get additional people, and Kostya pitched the idea of a hammock that they could sort of put up and down, and some ottomans that slid under a coffee table. Hidden space, he said, was efficient.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:46 am
All These Roads
The tablecloth spread beneath them was stereotypical in its red and white checkerboard, as was the wicker picnic basket that had been thoroughly drained of its contents.
Without thinking, Kostya ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing out the tangles there. "I think so too," he said, and thought of liquid-black eyes and a throne and numbers one through ten.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:49 am
What the Hell
Unlike some, America's growth didn't bother him in the slightest. "Da," he said, and clambored on in a way that was ungraceful, arms around her neck and legs around her waist and being hoisted about as if he weighed nothing. "Onvward!"
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:54 am
Fancy
"What if we got it in blue?"
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 2:58 am
Technologic
America, in turn, made an argument for pillows. Many pillows. In all shapes and sizes and colors.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 3:00 am
All These Roads
She took comfort in the words, trusting that he wouldn't bother with any of it if he didn't see the potential for greater returns in the form of a better life, here and with her.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 3:04 am
What the Hell
Steadying him easily, unnecessarily even, with a laugh, America raced toward the cafeteria where she would claim her victory in the form of lunch.
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 12:06 pm
Fancy
"A man has limit, America Jones," he said, but they got two in blue anyway-- and didn't that make her pleased as punch, but he was happy, too, because of it-- and a few things besides.
(He spent ages, engaged by organization structures; file cabinets and bookshelves and boxes and segmented containers of plastic, excitedly talking about cubic space.)
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Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 12:30 pm
Technologic
Why not both was the rallying cry of their designs-- this house would be a comfy one: it was America's, after all.
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