Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide 
Posts: 146 
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Oct 23, 2015 23:17:37 GMT -8
CAST: Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com), Roman Kerrs (new character approved, screen name pending) SUMMARY: Mira goes for a stroll along the Thames and makes a friend, and maybe gets a case of eye fungus. TW: Mysterious watery men in their underpants, mention of violence
[Miriam] Joe's Joe was a nice little place to hang out with friends, but Mira also knew when shit was going to get awkward, and that was why she turned to leave once she figured out the vibes that were happening within. No, she had no idea about Jasper and Hannah and Nero, but she could feel that there was something in the air that shouldn't have been there, or at least something that she didn't need to be a part of. She had ordered one more cup of dirty chai (it was now on the menu as 'The Hedgehog Special' thanks to Tucker) and gotten it to go, waved farewell, put her peacoat back on, and retreated into the cold darkness of London by night. It wasn't that there was nowhere for her to go, because she could always go home, but she found herself in a nomadic sort of mood. And so, she wandered. Not far, she kept well within a reasonable distance of Shepherd, but she wandered. There were a few bars around here other than the Clockwork Cat, and of course there was all the bustling business a little further along the Thames. Eventually, she took up a spot on the water's edge, leaning over the railing and peering down at its inky depths. Something was percolating in her mind and it had been for a while. Something about how it was time to break past what she had become during her time here, and become something far better. So that was Mira, right now. Red coat, gray leggings, black boots, white knit cap, cup of dirty chai, and tossing a penny--a pence? Whatever the fuck--into the river below just to hear the watery plink. Subdued, but not in a bad mood, not in the slightest. It was a nice night. [Roman] Water. Wherever there was water, there was Roman. Those flyover states you heard of back in the US? Nah, no thanks. Those waterways weren't open. Lakes and ponds just didn't cut it. Rivers weren't deep enough. He needed oceans. Islands were where it was at, and that's why he'd come to London in the first place. Time to get away from the, ah... legal troubles of the states and head to the United Kingdom. He'd been here for several years now, managing to (mostly) stay under the radar. There was only so much that plastic surgery could do, and giving you new fingerprints was not one of them. He had been down in the water this evening, enjoying a bit of a dip. It was chilly, but not super cold, and since he wasn't planning on going much of anywhere in the near future, the Thames would do. ... Or at least until something plinked against his head. The woman with the pence wouldn't hear the noise she was expecting. Instead, it was a larger splash, followed by her pence coming right back up at her and onto the ground on which she was standing. Wet, but still the same one. It wobbled and wavered, then came to a settle on the ground. [Miriam] Sip. Mira swirled the remaining beverage around in her to-go cup, attempting to better mix the chai and the coffee. Andy had likely been in a hurry because it was nearing the end of his shift, and she couldn't blame him, but it really could have been blended a little better. She was preparing to pull away from the railing when something clinked onto the ground beside her. Wet. A coin. Down she crouched, picking up the coin, and she stared at it with dark eyes that proceeded to narrow in the utmost suspicion. Standing on her toes now--she really wasn't that big of a woman, not quite five and a half feet tall--she leaned over the edge a bit more to see if she could figure out what the hell had thrown her coin back at her. There were ripples. Something was lurking in the Thames. Considering what she had witnessed and overheard thus far in her time at Shepherd, this could have been something incredibly dangerous. She had heard about what was underground, after all. But wouldn't something evil just keep her damn money? Unless it wanted to lure her into the watery depths. Teeth grit. She'd had quite enough of dark, watery depths lately, thanks. But she moved anyway, walking down to the water's level. Perched at the bottom of the stairs, she tossed the coin back into the water, near the ripples. Tag, you're it. [Roman] Oh, if she thought that she was going to find something there, she was pretty wrong. He knew that there was someone lurking, so he'd made damn sure that he wasn't in full-blown naga form when she came around. No, instead he had taken his ... mostly human form. She still wouldn't see anything, though. Just dark water, moving from the flow of the current. The ripples had long since disappeared from where he'd gone under. She wanted to play, though, huh? Alright, they could play. It was nearly a minute after she had thrown the penny, the ripples of that long since gone. She was still there, though, and so he'd play. He continued to stay under, and just when she looked down to grab whatever it was that she was going to grab -- her phone? -- she'd feel it. The pence pelting her in the side of the head, then falling into the water below her feet with a quiet little ploop sound. No tag backs. [Miriam] Nothing. Silence. Mira glanced up the stairs, towards the small number of people who were still out and about at this late hour, and reached for her phone. On went the flash, holding steady to serve as illumination. But she didn't even get a chance to realize how useless this was. The coin smacked her upside the head before falling into the river. She flashed the light about, this way and that, her eyes darting. You know, people in London at this hour were usually drunk, oblivious, or both, like they were straight out of Sailor Moon's Tokyo. So she took a breath, and she called out. "Hey! Who are you?" Perhaps it was the faerie thing, or perhaps it was years of tight rope performance and sword swallowing, but whatever the case, Miriam was not the sort of woman who was easily frightened. If anything, she was curious on a level that was a downright problem. Cold wasn't a major issue for her, and with nobody hovering over her shoulder to ask her what she was doing, she began to disrobe, partially. The coat came off, and the boots followed, the chill wrapping around her like an old friend. Fine. If there was something lurking in the water for her, she'd go after it. What did she have to lose? Will and Ash would make sure little Pan was well-fed and well-loved if something were to happen to her, she was sure. "Don't make me go in there!" Could...could anything that was under the water even hear her? Of course, there was a major caveat to her plan. Mira Roth could not swim. But she could sort of...walk down a few more stairs, keep a firm hold on the railing, and duck her head under the water with her eyes open. That much she could do. Maybe she could even get her coin back, though it wasn't a big deal. [Roman] Opening your eyes under the water of the Thames was a really good way to get an eye infection. Of course he could hear her. In fact, this was rather amusing to him. There was a small rumbling of bubbles as he laughed to himself beneath the water. Now, the girl had been down here for well over three minutes and not seen a damn thing, so whatever was in the water had to be aquatic. ... Or David Blaine, and this was not Street Magic, so. Yes. Don't make her go in there? Oh, please, what was she going to do? He swam down to the bed of the river -- it wasn't too far. The Thames was a large river, but it was a large river for Britain, not in general. He didn't answer her, and he didn't come back out of the water, but he did scoop up a few things at the bottom that he was going to, ah... present to her. He treaded back towards the surface, making sure to stay juuuust out of sight below the water's surface. And then. The gentle barrage of things came up out of the water and at her. Not hard? He wasn't trying to hurt her. Just weird her out a little bit. There was a sixpence, a quarter, a can tab, an old engagement ring, and her original pence. How many of them landed true to his aim at the top of her head? [Miriam] There was silence after her empty threat. Mira was in the process of disrobing, still. The shirt was next. The black, long-sleeved v-neck came off and was deposited neatly atop her coat. So by the time he lurked near the water's surface, she was down to her leggings and vibrantly purple bra with pretty lace trim, and bare feet were taking a cautious step downward. Just one, enough for her feet to break the surface. She was rocking a pretty cute pedicure in a hue of seasonally-appropriate gold, so at least she had that going for her, because she probably looked like some sort of a lunatic. That was when shit started to come out of the water. A sixpence. A quarter--that landed on her head, and she plucked it free, actually laughing when she saw what it was, a little piece of her native country. The can tab hit her shoulder, her pence dinged on the step that she had been standing on previously, and the engagement ring landed on her head as well. This one made her laugh more, and she waggled it towards the water. "Hey, I don't go marrying mysterious water-beasts!" she called, because she was pretty sure that whatever was down there? It was playing with her. Now, when Mira was a little girl, she used to like to go to the beach and pretend she was a mermaid. Since coming to Shepherd, she had met witches and monsters and half-demons and all sorts of mysterious creatures, and discovered she was a faerie. So maybe there was a mermaid in there. Taking a deep breath, she took a few more steps until the water was just below her chest, and then ducked her head down underneath, eyes wide open and peering. Meet Mira Roth. Wide brown eyes, a thin and clever sort of face, a beauty mark near her mouth, her lips painted red with the sort of lipstick that mercifully was designed to stay on for a thousand years. [Roman] A water beast! Well, now that was rude. Why did she have to go and call him names after he had just thrown money at her. But, she was laughing and that was a good thing. She wasn't scared, and that intrigued her. Normally, when things went flying out of the river at somebody, people bolted and started talking about Nessie coming down from the Loch, or some sort of paranormal activity. They didn't just stick their heads in the water and look around. ... After stripping it down, no less. Alright, well if she wanted to see, she could see. Besides, nobody would believe her anyway. When she ducked her head under the murky water, she'd be able to see the form of a man. Not a mermaid, sorry Mira. It was a man with two arms and two legs. But it was dark out at night, and the water wasn't exactly crystal clear, so details weren't so sharp right now. He smirked to himself and then quickly, like a jet propulsion of water pushing him forward, he was right up in her face. And she'd be able to see him. Dark hair floating in the water above him. Partially clothed. He had some sort of pants on, though it'd be difficult to tell in the dark. The moment he was directly in front of her, she'd hear a little "Boo," travel through the water, more audible than was really normal. It wasn't muffled or anything. The voice was deep and the grin was broad. [Miriam] Hey, for all she knew this could be a really intelligent hippo or something. Mira wouldn't put anything past London, not anymore. She roomed with a half-harpy and a wizard, she'd rolled in the sheets with a witch, a cambion made her coffee on Saturday mornings. A super-smart hippo would just be par for the course. But what she encountered was definitely not a hippo. It was a man and his face was like...right there. Her eyes went comically wide, and she had to pull her head up above the water to avoid breathing it in when she gasped in surprise. Another breath of air, and she ducked her head back down beneath to stare at him. Of course she wasn't going to try to speak underwater. How did he even do that? Was that some sort of swimming trick she hadn't learned? Her head cocked to the side, and one hand moved in a gesture. It was a point. Up. Towards the surface, and then to her mouth. Of course she wanted to know who he was and why the hell he was swimming in the Thames at this hour! Why would anyone swim in the Thames at all, actually? That didn't really seem like the kind of thing anyone would do for funsies unless they really liked gonaherpesyphilaids. With her gesture, and hopefully her point, made, Mira popped her head out of the water and waited, wringing out long brown hair that was still tied in its messy ponytail. Congratulations, water boy, you just made a new...friend? Maybe? Certainly a very intrigued party. When he emerged, which he hopefully would, he'd find her perched a few steps up, out of the water. The left-hand side of her mouth was quirked higher than the right, but it was definitely a smile. [Roman] At least he didn't make her drown. ... Not that he'd be particularly upset about a stranger dying because she'd inhaled water when he scared her? But she had been a good sport with his games. It was less of a 'care' and more of a 'well, it would be a bummer if the playmate was a sinker.' He thought for sure she might have up and run, and while her head was out of the water, the gills on the sides of his neck flared open and closed in the water's current. They closed again when she re-entered the water, smoothing out flush against his neck without a trace. Up? ... Sure, why not. He gave a small kick and popped his head out of the water. There was no gasping breath, though, which you might expect from someone who had just been under the water for more than five minutes. Instead, there was just a lazy grin on her lips. "You know, you really shouldn't open your eyes under there," he said, and his second set of eyelids (clear ones like crocodiles!) opened vertically, sliding back to their resting spot on the outside corner of his eyes. With any luck, she wouldn't have noticed, given how dark it was and that they weren't exactly opague. He gave her a little bit of a nudge and gestured for her to go up the steps before he took a hold of the railings and climbed out of the water. Tall and lean was he. Not a body builder by any means, but you could tell that he took good care of his body. It was a swimmer's body, his arms and shoulders more toned than the rest. Wet jeans -- fitted but not skinnies, thank you -- clung to his legs and hung on his hips -- or what little of them he had. He wasn't totally flat and skinny? But he wasn't a woman, ya'll. Bare feet clambored up the stairs behind her. [Miriam] Alright, so she didn't get her mermaid experience of a lifetime. Instead, she got...this. She got a guy who looked pretty normal in every fashion other than the fact that he was emerging from the depths of the Thames. Her smile fell, but it was only because it was replaced with a what-the-fuck look. And then it came back. "Yeah, I'll probably get eye parasites or something," she admitted in the tone of a woman who didn't much care. "What's that saying, though? Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought her back?" While he emerged from the water fully, she...sort of stood there like a moron in wet clothes, because Mira had not thought this through in the slightest. A towel might have been smart. She did not have one, and she wasn't sure she wanted to just put the rest of her clothes and her coat on her wet body. "Do you, um, do you have a towel?" she inquired, sounding a little sheepish. She had a habit, when she met new people, of checking them out. Maybe it was because of what she was--the darker side of fae, the seducer, the tease. But she gave this man the same once-over she gave literally everyone else. Final verdict: nice body, wet pants, not bad to look at. Also? American, probably from somewhere south-like. "Obvious question first. How come you're swimming in the Thames after dark?" She could think of two things right off the bat: treasure hunting, or he had a death wish.
[Roman] "But what do they say about women? You don't look like a cat to me. Curiosity gave the woman an eye fungus," he said jokingly as he stepped up the stairs and onto solid ground. Some people had to get sea legs; Roman had to get land legs. He shook out his legs a bit, pushed himself up on his toes, and then found his balance on the ground. "I have a towel, but it's not here. I can go get it, but unless you want to walk a while in wet clothes at night, you're gonna have to stay here and wait for me to come back with it," he said. He gave her an award-winning grin at her 'first question' though. "How come you were swimming in the Thames after dark?" he asked. What, like he was gonna fluff out his gills and show her? He'd have to kill her, and he really didn't enjoy murder. That was more messy and less fun than robbery. Too much to take care of after when there was a body. "Next question. Unless you want me to go get the towel. In which case, you'll have to keep your questions to yourself for about ten minutes."
[Miriam] "I'm probably not going to get an eye fungus," Mira hazarded in the tone of a woman who was aware that she just might get an eye fungus. Ewww. Maybe she could go take a precautionary round of antibiotics, but wasn't that supposed to be bad for you or something? And would antibiotics even kill an eye fungus? Was eye fungus even a thing? Shaking off her thoughts, she furrowed her brow at the man who had emerged from the fungus-laden Thames. The words 'attractive but sketchy' came to mind, which was, of course, her type. "I was swimming in the Thames after dark because I threw a coin in the water to make a wish. And then I got the coin pelted at me. Twice. Which I assume was your doing. You know, normally when I throw money at men I expect them to take their pants off." She sat down on the top stair, wringing out her hair and letting the murky water drip to the side that didn't house her pile of discarded clothing. "I think I'd like the towel before we go further with questions, actually. Now are you actually going to bring back a towel, or are you just going to leave me here to freeze to death?" Never mind the fact that she wasn't showing the slightest sign of being cold. There wasn't so much as a goosebump on her body or a rosiness to her nose and cheeks. Again the left-hand side of her mouth rose in that playful smirk. "I'll give you twelve minutes. I expect to see you here by then. Clock's ticking, waterboy." Some people couldn't help flirting.
[Roman] No, antibiotics would not do anything for eye fungus, Mira. You'd just be killing all of your good bacteria and have a chance to have a fungus elsewhere. Or candida, which is yeast, but whatever. ANYWAY. "You threw it at me, I threw it back. Thought maybe you dropped it," he said, that lopsided grin staying upon his face. "Lord, you try to do a woman a favor," he joked. But! She wanted the towel, so he was going to get it for her. "If I was fixin'to let you freeze to death, I would have let you stay in the water," he explained. She was going to give him twelve minutes. Okay. That wasn't an issue. "I'll only need ten," he said, shot her a wink, and then dove into the river, effortlessly going underwater. But that wasn't it. Oh, no. She threw money at him, so he'd take off his pants. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, but his wet jeans came flying out of the water and smacked into her with a splooshing sound. As for Roman? He was but a small wake in the Thames.
[Miriam]: "What, you've never heard of throwing a coin in water to make a wish? I have a lot of wishes." Wishes were bullshit and she knew that, but it was worth a try. Mira opened her mouth to say thank you when the guy decided he was going to go get her towel, but any words that she had intended to utter died in her throat when he dove right back into the Thames. "You're gonna get eye fungus!" she called after him, only to be smacked in the face with heavy, wet denim. "What the fuck?!" The last word rose into a high, surprised squeak when she realized what he had thrown at her. Pants. Ohdeargod. The lopsided smirk grew bigger and bigger, until the right side of her mouth joined the left and became an outright, cheeky grin. Fine, she could stay right here, and right there she stayed, sitting on the top stair and looking up at what little starlight she could make out beyond the bright lights of London by night. "You know," she muttered, fiddling with the coin she'd thrown into the river on a whim. "When I wished for somebody who could make me happy, I was thinking more in the long-term. Not some dude literally emerging from the river and very literally throwing his pants at me." There was nobody around to hear. Mira made to throw the coin back in the river one more time, but something made her keep it. She tucked it in her pocket.
[Roman] He liked to have fun. And if that meant calling someone's bluff and making them squeak in surprise when he threw his pants at her, then so be it. He could have just swam away, but she played along, and he liked that. It didn't take him too long to swim back up river where he'd left his car. With only having ten minutes, he had shifted underwater, long legs fusing together to become one, long, scaled tail. Fins, gills, the whole nine yards. The water was dark, which meant his blueish greenish tealish scaled remained unseen. It was easier to get around that way. Once he reached the set of steps that was closer to where he'd parked, he shifted back, then quickly climbed out of the water in his pair of boxer briefs. Pad wobble pad wobble pad pad pad... On over to his car -- an old Shelby GT, thank you -- and he popped the trunk. Towels galore. And some extra changes of clothing. It was good that it was dark? Not that he particularly minded being seen naked, but he didn't want to get some fine for public indecency or anything like that. Boxers replaced with new ones, along with another pair of dry jeans and a button-up, plaid-print shirt that was left unbuttoned over his bare chest, the sleeves rolled up just past his elbow. He had precisely five minutes to get back to her. And you know? He did so. There was a squeal of brakes once he did, and he drifted to a stop in front of her. He had his elbow out the window and he was grinning at her. Pop! The trunk opened and he looked down at his watch. "Looks like I only needed nine. Towels in the trunk."
[Miriam] Mira was watching the water. She fidgeted with the coin, toyed with it between digits, performed a few simple tricks with it, and pocketed it once again. Honestly, she expected him to emerge from the water, though that was so counterintuitive if he was going to present her with a dry towel. The rev of an engine behind her made her look up in surprise. Moreso when she heard his voice. Turning, she raised her brow at him, then shrugged and wandered to the trunk. "How the hell did you do that so quickly? You swam in the fucking Thames, got your car, got dry clothes, and found me again in...less than ten minutes?" Mira took two towels. When she emerged to his side of the car, leaning on in like she was a cheap hooker, she had one draped over her shoulders and one wrapping her damp hair like a turban. "I have other questions for you. Are you going to answer them with me like this, or should I get in?" She raked her eyes oover the vehicle. Grinned. "Is this yours? It's pretty sweet." She leaned back, stood up on her own two feet again, and began the fun process of further toweling off. She had no change of clothes, so he was just going to have to talk to a pretty girl in a bra and leggings for the time being. What a hardship, Roman, you think you can handle it? There was a gleam in her eyes that had not been there when she had initially headed along the Thames for a walk tonight, or even when she had left Joe's after the impromptu jam session. This was something playful, something impish, something she didn't usually have a chance to be when she was among her friends.
[Roman] "Practice," came his only answer to her question about how he did that so fast. Really, it wasn't a lie? He'd had many, many years to swim. Many. "That's up to you," he said, giving her a little shrug. "Door's unlocked, but who am I to tell you what to do. Do you make it a habit of getting into strange men's cars in the middle of the night?" he asked. "I could be one of them axe murderers. You could end up with your own BBC special. Candle lit vigils until they eventually found you in the river." What I should have said was nothing. Nah, he knew what he was saying. He'd tried to scare her earlier, too, when he'd come right on up to her face under the water. It was fun, the whole scaring thing. Only nobody ever really called his bluff or realized that he wasn't entirely serious. It was said with a grin -- always with a grin -- and he reached up to brush his hand through his wet hair. "There's a shirt in the trunk, if you want. Take one of the t-shirts. I'm running low on my overshirts," he said, giving a little tug to the shoulder of his own shirt.
[Miriam] "You don't look like an axe murderer, but then again, most axe murderers don't," Mira pointed out. And yet, she was moving back to the trunk to take one of his shirts and pull it over her head. It was more like a dress on her, given the height difference. Five foot five and built for agility. In the end, she tied it at her navel like it was 1994 as she came back around to the front of the car. Oh, and she'd closed the trunk, of course. "Maybe I'm an axe murderer. Did you ever consider that? I could be the next Lizzie Borden." And yet, she opened up the car door and sat right down in the passenger's seat without a hint of fear. "So what's your name?" Did she make a habit of getting into strangers' cars at night? No, but she made a habit of making piss-poor life choices, so why stop now? This was probably far less dangerous than the night she let Alice lead her to Don's home and...well, there was no need to dwell on what had happened there that night. She was devilishly hard to scare, but instead of rolling her eyes and dismissing him, she tried to scare him right back. Truth was, she could kill him. She could grow those horrid claws and those jagged teeth and pluck his fresh heart from his body and crush it between her jaws. Or! Or. She could sit here in the car beside him. "Also, do you know anywhere good to get a cup of coffee? I'm a little far from my usual haunts."
[Roman] "What do axe murderers look like? Maybe they look different in Britain," he said. He didn't know where she was from, but he knew that it wasn't from here. She had an American accent, and while his deep drawl was a dead giveaway for some southern states, hers was more generic American. "Are you going to give me forty whacks?" he asked, giving her a coy look. Hey, she walked directly into that one, Lizzie Borden. He let her get all buckled into her seat before he answered her questions. "Roman. Yours?" he asked, putting the car into gear. He wasn't sure where they were going, but he wanted to drive and not just sit here and idle. That was a waste of gas. "Not much of a coffee guy, but I know where to get a good beer," he said. He'd start driving, despite her answer. If she said she could go for a beer, he'd take her there. If she really wanted coffee at this time of night, then he'd take her there, too. If not, he could always just take her home and drop her off. Wasn't a big deal to him; not like the man worked a day in his life. ... Well, that wasn't entirely true. But his work wasn't exactly the legal procurement of funds. ... And when he wasn't feeling up for the big stuff? Well, you wouldn't believe how many people make wishes in the Thames...
[Miriam] Hers wasn't quiiiiite generic, no. Her accent spoke of skyscrapers and the city that never slept, but the New York drawl really only came out on certain words. Like cawfee. His coy smile was met with a bold one from her. "I generally ask that a guy buy me dinner, or a drink at the very least, before I give him forty whacks," she replied, settling herself comfortably into the vehicle and buckling up. "I'm Miriam. I go by Mira, sometimes, if you want." No, her first name ain't baby. It's Mira, Miss Roth if you're nasty. Ahem. She mulled over the options. Coffee had been suggested because it seemed like the logical thing to do after swimming in the Thames, other than develop eye fungus, was to get something warm to drink. But booze was warm in a different way. "I'm not much of a beer girl, but I could go for a drink. I prefer mine sweet." The towel was taken off her head, and she reached into the pocket of her nearby coat to pull out a small, compact brush, swiping it through all the snarls of thick darkness to coax it back into the gentle waves that it had been sporting before she'd decided to shove her head under the water. "So, Roman. You are definitely not from here. I'm going to take a guess here...Virginia? North Carolina?" It was always nice to see another American. It was extra nice to see an American who wore tight jeans and was kinda appealingly scruffy and dangerous-like. That love of danger had gotten Mira into some particularly upsetting situations of late, though, so hopefully he'd prove to be a safe sort of dark. Well, safe by Miriam's standards, which, after dealing with Alice and Don, were so out of whack that if he popped a cap in somebody in front of her she'd just high-five him and help him hide the body.
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Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide
Posts: 146
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Dec 13, 2015 19:44:20 GMT -8
CAST: Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com), Roman Kerrs (idealdanger@aol.com) SUMMARY: Roman picks Mira up in a stolen truck and tries to show the city girl how country boys spend their free time. TW: NSFW sexytime stuff at the end, mention of Conway Twitty.
[Miriam] I've got my heavy heart to hold me down. Once it falls apart, my head's in the clouds. Mira had been bopping out to music while she got ready in her quad, which wasn't particularly unusual. She'd done her homework and taken a nap, and now, apparently, it was time to go meet up with Roman. Mysterious, watery Roman with his sweet ride. Now, he'd let her keep that shirt, but it was no longer just a t-shirt. She'd doctored it up. Cut out the neckline so that it sat low and bared her shoulders, taken out the sleeves to bare her arms, and paired it with a wide black belt and a pair of black leggings as a modified dress. Makeup, check. Hair, check. All of it looking like she hadn't done anything more than she usually did? Check! Pan was given a kiss and a scritch, and Mira was right out the door, into the night. Meet me down by the Thames, he had said, where you threw the coin into the river, and that was where she was headed. Complete with a quarter in her hand, too. An American one. She plunked the New Jersey quarter down into the water, waited, and listened. Though for all she knew, he could just turn up right behind her. The night was cold, but she wasn't dressed for it. Hardly. [Roman] That Mira girl was entertaining, and Roman found himself wondering about her yesterday. So, since he had her number, he decided to give her a call. The more he had talked to her the night at the bar after the Thames, the more he'd figured out she was a city girl, born and raised. Aw naw. He was gonna have to do something about that. He'd gone and promised her that he'd show her a good ol'time out in the Boondocks, even if around here it was more like Boondockshire. He had made plans to meet up with her at the place where she'd thrown the quarter at him. He could have picked her up at her place, but this wasn't a date. This was a learning experience. Her New Jersey quarter plunked into the water without a response from the naga. Instead, after a minute or two, she'd hear the sound of an engine much different from the Shelby GT that he'd shown up in a few nights prior. Nope, this one was definitely bigger. An older-model truck. Nothing outlandish, but it certainly didn't belong in the middle of London. He rolled down the window without cutting the engine. "I sure hope you ain't throwin'more money down in there because the only thing about to grab it is the giant catfish," he said with a playful smirk. "Hop in." [Miriam] Not just any city. New York. That was about the citiest city you could ever city in. Of course, when she'd traveled with the circus, she'd seen the open road, but the thing about traveling and performing is that you're often too exhausted to do much in the way of sightseeing. Mira was leaning lazily on the railing, looking down into the water for any signs of life, but the sign of life came from...the truck? What the hell was that, a big old truck like that? Here? Well, surely people drove trucks in London, but still. There was a widening of eyes and a raise of a brow as she turned around to face Roman. "Giant catfish?" she echoed. "That's what's down there? And by the way, look, I didn't even get eye fungus." Or scabies, or whatever else you could get sticking your unprotected skin into the Thames. She looked over the truck, and of course there was that smirk, the one that took the left side of her mouth up but not the right, left berry-colored lips uneven. "So you're one of those multiple vehicle kind of guys." Of course, she wasn't just going to stand there and give him shit. He had the truck, he'd told her to get in, and in she got, settling into the passenger's seat and buckling up. "So I take it you don't hang out underwater every night." No, she didn't need to tell him about the sheer number of quarters that now lay along the bottom of the Thames. She'd likely deny it had anything to do with her, anyway. It wasn't like she was looking for him. It wasn't like she'd gone to the library on campus to read about local legends concerning the river. Hardly, okay, Mira had other shit to do. Totally. [Roman] "Don't believe me?" he asked with a lazy grin. "Let your legs hang into the water long enough, they'll come up and nibble on your toes," he said. Untrue because catfish were bottom feeders, but he could still give her hell. As to the fact that he had multiple vehicles. "Somethin'like that," he said. Now, if she looked closely, she'd see that there was no key in the ignition. And in fact, the ignition definitely didn't look right. It was ... Well, it had a damned mini screw driver jammed into it. There was a very good reason that Roman hadn't cut the engine. "Nope, not in the water all the time. Sometimes I bring the water with me," he said, pulling a bottle of water from the console and taking a long drink before putting it back. "Always be prepared or whatnot, I guess. C'mon, I'm gonna show you what the sky really looks like. I bet you've never seen more than a handful of stars, have ya?" he asked. "Now," he started. "Why don't you dig through the glove box and see if there's anything good in there. Tapes or something." Did she get the distinct feeling that this wasn't exactly his truck? She should. [Miriam] "Gross. You'd know more about catfish than I would, though, considering you like to take a dip in that sewage dump of a river. How come they don't eat your toes?" Miriam did not know about the nature of catfish. She knew about beaches, but she did not know about catfish. And Roman was right. She knew nothing about the stars, either, and when he remarked on her presumed ignorance, Mira nodded, but she gave him a wtf look in the process. "Yeah, light pollution sort of kills the sky. We had this cousin who had a cabin upstate, and we stayed for a few days in the summer once or twice. But Dad hates the great outdoors." And then her mother got cancer the first time, and well...maybe that was too heavy of a conversation for a night like this, so she just blamed it all on her father being a spoilsport. Which he was. While she went digging in the glove box, she cast a glance at the ignition and the mini screwdriver within. There was a pause, and she pulled out the vehicle's registration. "Well, thanks for calling me up and deciding to take me out tonight, Matilda Wallace," she said dryly, waggling the papers at him. "You stole this truck?" Now what did he expect? Some sort of horrified answer? Because it was followed up with a laugh. "Cool. We can pretend I'm Matilda." Miss Wallace apparently also kept her CD collection in here, and she started rifling through. "What sort of music are you into? Looks like we've got some classical...some country...they listen to country in England?" [Roman] Well, the truck didn't have a CD player, it had a tape deck, so we're gonna pretend that Matilda Wallace had a collection of old tapes. Merle Haggard. Conway Twitty. The Beatles. Boyz II Men. Matilda Wallace had an interesting taste in music. "The catfish are afraid of me, so they don't go after my toes. They know better than that," he replied, and while he almost always gave off an aire of joking or hyperbole, it happened to be true in this case. "Steal? Naw, I borrowed it. Borrowed," he said with a preen. "Matilda is my stage name, but you go ahead and use it. You make a finer woman'n I do," he said by way of complimenting her. "Pick anythin'. I don't care. We could always see what's already in it," he said, then pushed a few buttons on the dash so that he could start the tape player while he drove into the dark night. Mira, he could totally be a serial killer, you have no sense of self-preservation. When he hit play, it was a self-help tape on how to quit smoking that came through the speakers. "...Well, damnit, Mattie, I done told you to kick the habit years ago," he said, adding way more of a twang than was usual. He had a drawl, yes, but he was definitely exaggerating here. [Miriam] Hey, the Beatles. Mira had that tape in her hands and was looking over the track listing, while simultaneously admiring it like it was a relic of ages past. Which it kinda was, because who the hell listened to tapes anymore? She was all about using her phone and streaming music services, thanks. If she'd had a car, she would have used it in there too, but she'd never bothered to learn to drive. Why bother, when you were raised in New York City? "Borrowed my ass," she muttered, though for the first time, she reached out to touch him when she said that. Just brushed her hand playfully down his arm while he hit play on the tape player. Oooh, quitting smoking. Classy. His jab at it made her laugh. "These tapes don't work anyway," she commented. "Bunch of bullshit, you have to treat the chemical addiction." She jabbed the tape deck to get the self-help tape to eject, and neatly put it back in an empty case, since, you know, he was apparently just borrowing the truck instead of stealing it. How nice of him to plan on giving it back, because it was kind of a sweet ride, in the old-school sense. "So where are we going, anyway? And would you prefer the Beatles or Boyz II Men? Though you strike me as more of a Conway Twitty kind of guy." Ladies and gentlemen, mister Conway Twitty. [Roman] "I didn't say I borrowed your ass, but it is a nice ass, and I'd borrow it any day of the week," he said playfully. It was accompanied by a sidelong look at her with a little bit of a grin. Now, it wasn't that he was going to keep the truck... Trucks were relatively rare here in London, so it would be obvious once Matilda reported it missing. So he would 'borrow' it for the night and then ditch it somewhere for them to find and return to her. Nothing missing. Just out for a joyride. "If those are the choices, then I'm gonna have to pick the Beatles. Mister Twitty is always awesome, but you certainly don't seem like a 'Hello Darlin'' type of girl." He only paused for a moment before he broke into the full line of the song and sang it. Though he was being facetious, it was clear that he wasn't awful. "It's been a long tiiiiiiiiime!" Snort. He laughed at his own joke, and took another turn, off a dirt road. "Ya better pick something quick 'cuz we're gonna be there in just a few minutes, Tillie." Mattie didn't sound right, so she was now Tillie. [Miriam] Pause. Mira stared at him a moment, her head cocked, at his comment about her ass. "Would you give it back to me when you're done taking it for a ride?" she asked, unable to keep the smirk off her face. "I mean, since you're borrowing, and all." Look, Roman, you walked right into it. The Beatles greatest hits was shoved into the tape deck, and she hit play just to make him stop pretending he was Conway Twitty. "Oh my god. It takes a talented singer to sound that bad!" Complete with her hand going over his mouth so he'd stop. Just for a second, and then she was rooting through the glove box. Maybe they had something cool. "Alright, here's our loot. One tin of Altoids, half full." She popped one into her mouth and offered the tin to him. "A few more tapes, if we're really interested in jamming out to Celine Dion or Barry Manilow. Are these people stuck in 1994?" Dig, dig. "Oh, hey, she's got a husband, a James Wallace, based on the insurance card." Since he called her Tillie, she gave him a new name as well while she stuffed the real Matilda's belongings back in the glove box. "I'm moving as fast as I can, Jimmy! Thirty-five years of marriage and you can't get a little more patient with me? Oy, my mother was right about men! I should have let her take me back to Poland and married a man from the old country!" Roman had exaggerated his country twang, so Mira exaggerated her New York, to the point that it went straight to Old Jewish Lady territory. [Roman] "I'll make like this truck, give it a joyride, then dump it off somewhere," he said. He got a thrill out of scaring the ladies, but she had played along so nicely before that he didn't think she's freak out again. That was even more fun. When she put her hand up against his mouth, he licked and slobbered on her before she could put it away. He did, however, reach into the tin and took an Altoid, popping it in his mouth and just plain crunching on it like it was candy. That sucker called for some water, and he took another long pull from his water bottle. "We might have to do Tillie a favor and get rid of some of her tapes. Maybe replace them with something better than Titanic junk." Because seriously, Celine Dion was just... No. Just no. He would shove her out of the truck if she put that on. He did, however, find the accent for Tillie deeply hilarious, and it made him laugh pretty damn hard. "God damnit, Tillie. One of these days. One of these days! Straight to the Moon!" He shook his fist at her. Now. He never would really hit a woman, so instead, he just gave her a gentle nudge on the top of the arm with his balled-up fist. "Alright, Sergeant Pepper, we're almost there. Turn it down some, and watch your head." He pulled completely off the road and kicked it into fourth gear. He drover over tree roots and dug out, washed away natural trenches. If she wasn't careful, the bumpy ride would cause her to slam her head on the window. "Hope ya ain't knocked up, 'cuz this ride'll knock it outta ya." [Miriam] "Oh, like hell you are," she snorted. "What, put an ass like mine permanently out of commission? That's just...why..." Oh, how huge her eyes got, how innocent she looked with that feigned expression of fear. "It's out right criminal, Roman!" Ha. Just like stealing this truck. She rubbed her slobbered-on hand against his knee to get the slobber off, and maybe just so she could kinda feel his leg up a little. Fine, you know what, he was flirting with her in the darkest way possible and she'd roll with it, because it still wasn't as frightening as some of the things that she had found herself involved with since her move to London. Not even close. So when he decided to take Tillie's truck offroading, she actually held on to his leg a bit too, as well as pulling herself away from windows and the roof of the cab. "If I was, I'd ask you to drive faster," she replied, dry as could be. Followed by, in her Tillie accent, "Jimmy! Our insurance doesn't cover going off the road! Jimmy, did you forget your medication again?" All while Ticket to Ride played on the tape deck in all of its glorious cassette quality. But the act didn't stay for long. What did, however, was the way her eyes lit up with excitement. Self-preservation was for people who couldn't grow monstrous claws and fangs to reach into rib cages and consume vital organs whole. If Roman tried anything unsavory with her, he might not live to tell the tale. Well, for a given value of unsavory. There were some things she was thinking she might not mind.
[Roman] "Aw, I s'pose you're right. Putting your ass out of comission would be a crime, and I sure ain't no criminal," he said, the winning smirk still upon his lips. He even closed one eye quickly in a wink. Her response to the pregnancy inquiry made him snort with laughter. "I like the way you think, Tillie." He wasn't complaining when she grabbed a hold of his leg and sorta scooted her pretty little self closer to him and away from the interior of the truck. Safety first, you know. Jimmy drove Tillie for about a mile into the darkness, mud splashing up on the tires and onto the truck. A vehicle like this didn't exactly have mud flaps. He turned down the Beatles so that he could concentrate as they approached their destination. Mira would be able to see it. It was a little lake with a tiny waterfall. The lake itself wasn't much bigger than a large pond, but it was lovely enough. This clearly wasn't a public camping lake or anything. He had, after all, gone through some old busted-down fences. "And... we're here," he said, parking the car and turning it off with the screwdriver. "I brought some stuff, but let's see what they got in their box," he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the locked tool box in the bed of the truck. One of the installed ones that took up the top portion of the bed. He opened the door and hopped out -- sorry, Mira, you're opening your own door -- and headed back towards the tailgate. It was lowered, and he hopped up into the bed, cowboy boots clunking on the metal."Snag that box behind the seat, will ya? The whole seat just sort of pulls forward." Now, this time he did hold down his hand to help her up into the bed when she did come round.
[Miriam] "Babies are gross," was Mira's sole commentary on why she would want him to just drive faster if she had any remote suspicion that she was somehow knocked up. Just get the damn thing out of her, seriously. But that was why she had the fancy implant in her arm. Mira liked sex and hated babies. Into the darkness they went, and she squinted beyond the headlights until they were parked before the pond. Wide-eyed and surprised, she turned to him when the vehicle came to a merciful stop. She didn't get motion sick, but if she had ever been inclined to do so, that would have been the time. Yikes. She was still a bit wobbly when she was instructed to get out and see what was in the box behind the seat, and her boots--riding boots, not cowboy boots like his, stumbled slightly on the dirt until she got herself back together, dusting off his-shirt-turned-her-dress. "I guess you really do drive it like you stole it," she muttered, digging around behind the seat, shoving it forward to grab the box. "You brought some stuff? What sort of stuff did you bring?" Out she came with the box in tow, and she took the hand that was offered her way and let him pull her up into the truck's bed. Things that Miriam had never done before: been in a truck's bed. The box that she'd picked up was offered his way. "So is this the box with the tommy gun we're going to use to rob a bank?" she quipped, in a moment of delightful OOC foreshadowing. "Because I'll go with you, but you have to drive the getaway vehicle. I don't have a license." She didn't need one in New York, and she didn't really need one here either. Oddly, she hadn't let go of his hand, and it wasn't until she realized that she hadn't that she did drop it, glancing up to the stars instead of looking at his face. Wow, Mira, nice faux pas.
[Roman] Hey, he wasn't going to give her grief for holding his hand. But he did need it to get into the box. And he needed his box to get into the other box in the bed of the truck. When she let go, he undid the latches at the top of the box by the handle, and opened up the hard, plastic box. "Nah, no tommy guns. I don't do banks anymore anyway. Too risky nowadays. All that security shit." What he did pull out of the box instead of the tommy gun was a drill. He brandished it like a pistol, his arm crooked and it pointing up in the air. Two little squeezes of the 'trigger' and it made a whirring Zzz! Zzz! noise. "Tools of the trade." He knelt down and put a drill bit in the nose of the drill, put it up to the little lock, and drilled in about an inch. He pulled it out, then drilled back in again to give the pins a chance to fall down and get destroyed again. "Gimme one of them coins you got," he said, and when she did, he used it like a screwdriver or a key to turn it. Click. He grinned and opened it up to see what was inside after handing back the coin of hers. "Alright, let's see here. Tools... bottles... trash... Oo, a tackle box... Empty cigarette packages.. Damnit, Tillie." He closed the lid and grinned up at her. "Well, that's a bust. But look up, city girl. Enjoy the stars."
[Miriam] "So you've robbed banks?" Some women might have been wide-eyed and amazed by that revelation, but not Mira. Oh no. She was grinning and stepping closer, light as a feather in the truck's bed. "Cool." Not that she had a squeaky clean past herself, but you know? If she was going to spend some time with a guy tonight, she wasn't so sure she was up to the part where she admitted that she was a murderess. She didn't want Roman to get the wrong idea and think she was harmless, but she also didn't want him to think she was innocent. "I've kind of always thought about doing a jewelry store, if I could. I don't think I'd take much. Just a few shiny things. Or maybe I'd just keep a few shiny things and sell everything else and keep the cash." Her daydreaming about bank heists, while he tried to get into the box, was interrupted by his request for a coin. The quarter was out and in her hand before she realized what she was doing, and even in the darkness, he might have been able to see the first hints of pink appear on her cheeks. "I...uh, I don't normally have...it's not like I carry them around or...anything...I just happened to have one on me tonight...you're lucky..." No, no, she hadn't been throwing quarters into the Thames for the last several nights, hoping to see him emerge. American quarters. Just like the one she was handing off to him right now, and she stared at it in his large hand as though it had betrayed her by its sheer existence. Mira glared at it again when it was handed back. Thankfully, he came to her rescue, instructing her to look up at the stars, and she did so, her hands behind her back. Oh. There were a few silent beats before he'd get to hear the little gasp that lodged itself in her throat. "...Wow."
[Roman] "Sellin'it's the tough part," he explained. "Unless you got the right market, people won't buy hot merch, and sellin'to strangers'll get you behind bars," he said. "Ain't no fun to be had there." Roman didn't think anything of the quarter, and when she started to try to save face, he raised a brow and looked up at her. "Didn't matter what kinda coin it was," he started. "Money's money's money." He clearly wasn't making the connection here to the fact that she liked to throw quarters at him. When she looked up, he grinned at the tiny gasp caught in her throat. "Whole lotta things you didn't even know were there, didja?" he asked. "That there's the Milky Way. Hell if I know what all the rest are, but that's the Milky Way," he said definitively. "You stay here. I'mma grab something outta the truck." He put his hands on the side of the bed, then hopped over, landing with bent knees and a quiet grunt. The seat of the truck was pulled forward again, and he went digging for the plastic bag of things he'd brought. The bag was tossed over into the bed before he made his way back in. One boot atop a tire, and he hoisted himself up and over, long legs doing the trick. "Truck beds ain't exactly the most comfortable. Sit up on the lockbox and pick up your feet. I'll make it better." Several heavy blankets were laid out to make it a bit more comfortable to sit or lay on without getting bruises from the ruts in the back of the truck. "Lay it down, city girl, and enjoy the stars and the sound of the water. I also brought these." His hand was shoved into the bag one more time to pull out minis! She liked sweet things? So he did the best he could to get sweet shots. Raspberry and things like that mixed in with the vodka.
[Miriam] The connection was not made, and Mira did what she did best when things got awkward--she promptly pretended that nothing had happened that was remotely out of sorts, and she went about her night. Which wasn't hard to do when there were so many other compelling things happening here. Like the stars. "I...I had no idea you could actually see the Milky Way. I mean, I guess I sort of knew..." But she had never imagined that she would. Seeing the Milky Way was reserved for little out of the way places like this, or places out in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't something for a city girl to see. Her eyes only came down from the brilliant, star-laden sky when he instructed her to sit on the lockbox, and she did as she was told, legs up. Legs up and Mira completely showing off, in fact, because she bent at the waist, spread her legs in a V, and peered at him between them with a smile. "So, something like this, then?" Limber as could be, she was! When the blankets were settled, she came down to lay on them, rolling off to one side to make sure that he had plenty of room to come join her. And he had alcohol? "Well aren't you thoughtful, country boy? C'mere." Mira patted the blanket, and once he was down beside her, she figured she could offer him a little bit of a...reward? Was she giving it to him because she wanted to reward him, or was she giving it to him because she just wanted to? Either way, Roman got a kiss. To the mouth, no less. No tongue--she'd need a little more time and/or a little more alcohol for that--but the promise of something more was left behind to linger on his lips, hot and electric. Digits snagged up one of the bottles of vodka, a vanilla one she was pretty sure, and she hoisted it aloft. "To the night," she murmured. "And to new friends who apparently have quite the rap sheet." Oh, she hadn't missed his remark about being in prison. She figured he'd been there, served his sentence, and was now out on the streets as a free man who apparently didn't learn his lesson about not taking things that weren't his own. The bottle was cracked open, and half of it was downed in one go.
[Roman] Okay, so the way she raised her legs in a V certainly did make him pause and look at her a moment. ... That was interesting... .... Huh... The corner of his mouth twitched into a bit of a smirk. "Do it again; I don't think I got a good enough look the first time to tell you if it was right or wrong," he said playfully. All sorts of interesting thoughts crossed his mind at that one. He wanted to see just how flexible she really was... The blankets were set down and he sat down next to her, just in time apparently to get a mouth kiss. Oh, hello. "If that's how you pay for minis, what happens when I bring a whole bottle?" he said, grinning. He picked up his own mini -- whiskey -- and shot it back after the toast. But when he looked over and saw that she'd only done half the shot? Now he was going to give her hell. "That all you got? Surely you can do better'n that. Finish it up, girl, 'cuz I'm curious as to what kinda acrobatics you can do when you're all limbered up with some of those bottles." Of course he had zero clue that she had been a circus performer.
[Miriam] Mission accomplished. He was interested. Not that Mira didn't think he had been from the beginning. Why else would he call her up? Surely it wasn't just to shoot the shit. And when he took her out past the city lights, that didn't really seem like a bros-being-bros thing at all. She remembered her words, what she had written in her journal just a few nights prior. Love was pointless and stupid and it only ended in pain. But friends with benefits? That could end up going very much in her favor. "Maybe you ought to bring the whole bottle and find out," she replied, but between that and the absolute shit he was giving her for not finishing the mini in one go, she was going to give him a hard time about it. Mira snatched up the bottle again, and her legs bent, until she had her ankles crossed behind her head. Good thing she had worn leggings underneath her makeshift shirt-dress, right? Down the hatch went the rest of the vodka. "I can do a lot of things," she replied, peering coyly at him from her contorted position. "I spent just shy of five years in the circus. Acrobatics, tightrope walking, juggling, I used to work with a little team of the cutest ferrets as a sideshow and taught them how to do tricks." All but Pan, who just sucked at doing tricks and was instead relegated a lazy life of being a household pet. "And..." She set her legs down where they belonged again and snagged up another flavored mini. Raspberry? Yum. Mira chugged it down in one go this time, hoisting the empty bottle up towards the stars in a salute to the cosmos. "I also used to swallow swords." Her brown eyes held his when she said that, and there was that lopsided smirk on her mouth. Go ahead, Roman. What are you going to do with that?
[Roman] You know, he really wasn't expecting her to go all contortionist on him. Well, not on him, but around him. The more he watched her, the dirtier the thoughts that flooded his mind. Oh, he was most certainly undressing her mentally, and he knew that she was, without a doubt, flirting. "Acrobatics, huh?" he asked, the smirk just as lazy as his drawl. "A guy could get used to watching that," he said, giving a little gesture towards her with his head. She pulled out another shot, and so did he. Fireball this time because who didn't love a little cinnamon? Or a lot of cinnamon as it were. This was going to end badly for him, though, because right when he went to down it, she let him know that she swallowed swords. Roman promptly choked on the cinnamon whiskey and coughed, dribbling some down onto his shirt. He coughed and coughed, trying to get the burning out of the back of his throat. That was painful! He was one of those cool and collected men, but that...That was too much. Like... Holy shit. "Goddamn," he managed to get out through coughs and the clearing of his throat. "Swallowing swords sounds like a talent that'll get you far. What else do you swallow?" he asked, raising a brow at her.
[Miriam] No, she wasn't getting all contortonist on him. She could get all contortionist on him later. Ahem. The smug look on her face when Roman choked on his drink was something that sprung to her mouth involuntarily. Getting men all worked up was a pretty entertaining side hobby, but she rarely took it this far unless she meant for something to come from it. Usually her. "Please don't choke to death. I like you and I don't know how to drive stick." All delivered in her sweet little New York drawl, a contralto that hovered just on the edge of low and sultry. What else did she swallow? She let her eyes linger on his once again. "A fair amount of things," came the reply. "Like all these little vodka minis you brought me." Funny how the more she spoke, the softer her voice became, despite the innuendo that wove its way in and out of her words like a second language. Maybe it was because of how close they were, or maybe it was because of the sound of the water and the breeze and the night critters. It was peaceful here. Mira could appreciate the peace in darkness, and she didn't want to fully ruin it yet. "I've swallowed some lies before. I've swallowed the truth, too. And fire, I've swallowed fire. And yet..." Everything in her head said she was going to regret this. She was going to get herself too involved and it was just going to end with her hurt and alone all over again. Men never stay. Why would Roman be any different? Her small hand rested on his chest. "I get the feeling that you're looking to have me swallow something else." Oh, Mira. Sweet, foolish Mira, thinking with your body and not your head or your heart. Fingers curled into his shirt. "Are you going to ask nice? Or are you not the sort of man who asks nice?" She hoped he wasn't.
[Roman] Oh, this one... This one was trouble, wasn't she? After all he'd said to her about being in prison and robbing banks and showing up in a stolen truck? And she was a dirty little minx, wasn't she? The innuendo was palpible, and he most certainly wasn't going to let her just tease him. Now, he wasn't one for doing things a girl didn't want, but teasing was downright mean. He opened another Fireball mini and threw it back, then leaned against the lock box lazily. "I've got a sword for you to swallow," he said, turning loose his belt buckle and pulling the belt out of the loops slowly. He let it clang to the floor of the truck bed and he just eyed her. "I got a feelin'I don't even need to ask. You look a little thirsty, girl. And I've got just what you need to quench that thirst. Why don't you go ahead and take a peek, yeah? The belt was picked up again, and folded in half. He held the two sides close to one another, then yanked out so that the leather would slap together in one hell of a loud snap. Now, he could be nice. Or he could be rough. ... He generally wasn't too rough with women he just met, though. Tended to scare him off, which was pretty much the opposite of getting them to contort on him.
[Miriam] It was going to take far, far more than stolen trucks and bank robberies and jail time to scare Mira away. The darkness she'd seen was terrifying, that night that she had let Alice blithely lead her to Don's little house of nightmares in the woods. Sometimes she wondered how she had survived. Why had they even bothered to spare her life? They certainly hadn't done it out of care for her. "Yeah," came Mira's little, amused snort. "I just bet you have a sword for me to swallow." What she didn't expect was the belt coming out of the loops. The clanging of the buckle. The corner of her lower lip was pulled between her teeth, because honestly? He put off a southern gentleman sort of vibe, affably evil, the kind of man who would hold the door for you while shooting somebody else between the eyes. She had not expected Roman to just go. The belt was eyed, and the sound that it made when he snapped it didn't make her cringe or shy away. It brought a life and a light to those dark eyes. "I just might. What are you going to do with that belt?" It wasn't as though she was holding still while she spoke, either. She scooted a bit closer, popped open the button on his jeans with deft fingers. Slid down the zipper a second later, without taking her eyes off his belt. In fact, she leaned in so she could place straight, even teeth on the leather, biting down on it lightly. That taunting was not going to stop, apparently. Yeah, okay, the stars were nice, she could get behind that. And the setting was pleasant, and the night's chill didn't even begin to faze her. It was quiet, and they were alone. A more romantic sort of woman might have found the whole thing just dreamy. And maybe Mira did, on some level, but considering she was 'accidentally' letting her fingertips wander into his jeans, she was not about the whole flowers-and-barefoot-dancing. Yet.
[Roman] Hey, this was going better than he thought it would! He hadn't taken her out strictly to get laid, but hell, if she was up for it, he wasn't going to say no? She was a pretty little thing, and the way she could move was enough to melt steel beams. He cast his gaze down to watch her hand for a moment, and smirked. He wasn't going to stay looking there, though, because he had other things to look at. Like her. He could look at his own dick any day. Which, by the way, was about half staff and getting harder the closer her hand got. "Well, now that depends on if you're a good girl or not," he said. He made the belt snap once more, and then leaned forward just a bit so that he could loop it around her back and pull her towards him. "Don't be scared, darlin'. It don't bite," he said with a grin. And then he pulled her in even closer with the belt so that he could capture her mouth in a kiss. Not a little one like she had given him earlier. But one that was more than a little forceful and definitely let her know what he was thinking and how worked up she'd made him just by being all bendy and stuff. He broke the kiss and grinned, then gave her a gentle swat on her lower back (because she was sitting and he couldn't swat her ass) with the belt. "C'mon, Tillie. Ol'Jimmy's waitin'."
[Miriam] "When have I ever been a good girl?" she asked, realizing as she said it that Roman didn't know her that well. But he probably knew her well enough, at the very least, to be aware of the fact that behaving herself had never been her strong suit. She just kind of did as she pleased. The second snap of the belt produced a noticeable shiver, and when he tugged her close, her lips were already parted for him. What was it that was getting Mira going right now, anyway? Was it the scenario? The fact that he was apparently rather turned on by her? The fact that he had a damn nice body and she'd seen it before and he was holding a belt and threatening to use it? That last part, definitely the last one. "I'm not afraid." It was breathlessly murmured against his mouth before she withdrew, and it was true. She wasn't frightened. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest suddenly, but it was most certainly not out of fear. Fine. She could do what he asked. Mira skittered up onto her knees, squeaking at the swat from his belt. "Oh, come on, Roman, I'm not made of porcelain," she taunted, positioning herself in front of him and between his legs. One hand was placed in front of her to prop herself up; the other went looking for his dick. Which, unsurprisingly, she found, because she was talented like that. The dark-haired little thing worked it free of clothes, carefully, and flickered her gaze up towards his face. "Watch this." Oh please, like he wasn't watching. She was on him as fast as he'd taken off his belt. A quick flick of her tongue across the tip, and with all the lack of hesitation that she had displayed with him thus far--shoving her head in the Thames, getting into his car, staying with him in the middle of nowhere even though he had a rap sheet--she swallowed. Mira wasn't lying. She feigned a bit of difficulty just for shits and giggles, and then her mouth was wrapped around the base. Both hands came out, to her sides, in a dramatic flourish as though she was taking a fucking bow.
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Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide
Posts: 146
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Dec 13, 2015 20:10:50 GMT -8
CAST: Roman Kerrs (idealdanger@aol.com), Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com) SUMMARY: After having to go underground for a few days to avoid paying the price for his long list of crimes, Roman resurfaces to take Mira out. A fancy sushi dinner gets quite interesting when it turns out neither one of them are stuffy enough for this restaurant, and when they stage an impromptu heist. Roman also drops some hints about his true identity, starting a treasure hunt for Mira.
TW: Vladimir Putin's jizz. No, really.
[Roman] Roman was definitely glad to be back on the grid again. Well. His very minimalistic grid. He tried to stay off of it as much as possible, but leaving Mira high and dry was just not an option. He missed his Bonnie; what was a Clyde to do without her? Besides, he knew he could trust her and that she was more than okay with his lifestyle. In fact, she encouraged it. So! Once he'd made tentative plans for sushi, he'd told her to meet him at 110 Bishopsgate and to wear something nice. There was, after all, a dress code to this place. He was already there; he'd been there earlier. Jeans weren't old, but rather nice, dark, and crisp -- and of course perfectly tailored. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black tie (loosely tied), and black dress boots. He'd put the reservations under Frank for a variety of reasons, but mostly he figured she'd ask about it. If she was going to be hanging around him a lot, she might as well know the truth, right? Or at least know some of what was going on. Roman had secured a table near the windows (which wasn't difficult considering all the walls were made of glass -- this was the 38th floor after all), so that their dinner would overlook most of London. With the sun set, that left the numerous lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling at various lengths providing almost a magical sort of atmosphere. This place? Definitely not a buffet.
[Miriam] Holy shit. You know, she would have been fine with the two of them going out to a cheap place and throwing it in a cooler, then eating under the stars. This? This was unexpected. When Mira had been told to dress nice, she had complied, and she had just the right thing to wear, too. A teal dress the color of dark, deep water, opaque where it mattered but lacy and sheer where it didn't. Sleeveless and, in her high black heels, brushing her ankles as she walked along after the waitress. Frank? Why had he decided to get a table reserved under Frank? Was it part of the laying-low thing? Dark eyes shifted rapidly, taking in one sight and then another and then another. She was not a princess. This was not a Disney movie. He was not her prince. But it felt, just a little bit, like a fairy tale. Especially considering the fact that he was dressed nicely and just waiting for her. Though the dress code was 'casual elegance,' Mira had still dolled herself up nicely. Subtle makeup. No bright red mouth and alluring cats-eyes, just a dusting of natural shadow and blush and a slick of faintly shimmery gloss on her lips. A series of delicate silver bangles shimmered on one wrist, matching the ornately twisted silver wires that hung from her earlobes. Hair was left down and loose about her shoulders. Once the waitress departed, Mira brushed her hand gently against Roman's shoulders. "Done laying low for a little while?" she asked. It was funny. She was trying to make herself sound nonchalant through her words, but her voice was too soft, too candle-glow-warm for it to be complete sarcasm. She brushed a kiss to his cheek. "Because this is laying quite high. Literally and metaphorically." She glanced back towards London beyond, then at him once again. "It's beautiful here. You sure know how to pick a location."
[Roman] Mira, sushi wasn't mudding food, and you had requested sushi. You can't just throw a couple of rolls in a cooler and eat that kind of stuff in the bed of a truck. Besides, he hadn't treated her to something nice, and, well, he missed her. So? Since she had specifically requested a special meal of raw fish, then fuckin'fancy raw fish it was going to be. He watched her walk in with the hostess, and the corner of his mouth seemed to be in that permanent little quirk. You know the one. He did, however, stand up as she approached because you don't stay seated when a fucking lady approaches the table. The kiss to the cheek was returned, coupled with a soft brush of his hand over the lacy curve of her hip. "You're a sight for sore, hiding eyes," he said, pulling out her chair and grinning. "There's two places to hide when you're hidin'. Down low? And up high. Down low can be fun, but up high? As long as you got the funds, nobody asks questions," he said, taking his own seat. "You wanted sushi, you're getting sushi. Though, I have to admit I know nothin'about any of this stuff. I know the types of fish and all, but what the hell is a foy grass?" he said, completely butchering the foie gras.
[Miriam] The touch of his hand did something to her, against her will. She shifted her weight so she was moving against it like she craved his touch. When she realized what she was doing, half a second later, she disguised it as half of an impish sway. "Living the high life. You know, I used to dream of this, when I was young. Being famous, jet-setting, eating the most expensive and ridiculous cuisine in the most exclusive restaurants. But I've since learned that it would likely mean nothing without good people to share it with." Roman pulled out her chair, and she sat neatly, her hand raising to brush over his arm once she was settled and he was pulling away. It said don't go, even though he wasn't going far. What the hell was wrong with her? Vivian's words sat heavy in her mind. Tell him. Tell him what? How could she tell him what she didn't even know how to articulate to herself? "Foie gras," she corrected gently. "Foie gras is liver. Goose liver, usually. I've never had it, but it sounds awful." She reached for the menu, peeked over it at him, and smiled. "So why all the secrecy with your reservation? Is it because you have to lay low, Frank?" She said it playfully, the way that she had let herself be called Tillie in the truck. Aliases seemed to be a fun part of their...no, this wasn't a relationship, Mira. Don't get ahead of yourself. Nose wrinkled at some of the menu prices. Now, she was hardly jewel-encrusted and rolling in hundreds, but Mira's family was not poor by any stretch. Still, this was well out of her league. Even her Bat Mitzvah hadn't been this fancy, and that was a night to remember.
[Roman] Goose liver. Nasty. "Well, if you ever want to become rich, take the garbage part of an animal, re-name it, put it on a tiny plate with a garnish, and charge the hell out of rich fools for it," he said. "Lobster? Just a large mud bug. Ain't no different from crawfish, just bigger. I read once that people pay good money to eat dead baby birds still in eggs. Give anything a fancy name and you'll make a bunch of money," he restated. "Despite what people may think, a name doesn't change what it is." That also answered her question about 'Frank.' He shot her a little wink. "You can keep on callin'me Frank if you want to. Don't make a difference to me. I've gone by a lot of things over the years. Frank is one of them," he explained. Definitely the most famous -- or rather infamous -- one. He brought up his hand and scratched at the back of his head while he looked at the menu. "No pun intended here, but I feel like a fish outta water. But I've been lookin'at this menu, and from what I can tell, a sashimi oma-case," obviously pronounced incorrectly, "seems to be the best way to go if I can't decide. Get what you want. Though, that thousand pound kobe beef thing takes two days to order, and we're a little behind on that one, and while I can spend that much, I really don't prefer to spend that much on bait and steak."
[Miriam] "Maybe that would make a good scam, of sorts. Find some kind of animal product that nobody has an interest in eating, then find a chef we can pay off to make it fancy and the latest hot new superfood. What about chicken feet? I want to see chicken feet soup suddenly becoming fancy." Mira was glancing between him and the menu now. Holy shit, this was some very fancy sushi indeed. Nary a dragon roll or rainbow roll in sight! They did have unagi, though. She liked unagi. "Sashimi might be the best way for you to go, yeah. It's just fish, really." There was a small pause, during which she set down the menu, peered at Roman, and looked a little sheepish. "I picked sushi because I thought you'd like fish," she admitted, though she knew deep down that they could have ordered a pizza and he probably would have been fine with it. As long as he...no. No, Mira, that is a dangerous train of thought, thinking that he'd be happy as long as he got to spend time with you. A very dangerous one indeed. "I think I'm going to get the same thing, and a thousand dollar steak is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." Though he could, in theory, buy it for her? Oh, hello. Now that they were just waiting for somebody to take their order, she found herself taking in his features, peering into his eyes, the left-hand corner of her mouth curled upwards. "One of many names you've gone by. Do I get to know what your name actually is, then? Is Roman a psuedonym?" She slipped a foot out of a high heel, gently ran it up his leg under the table, though she stopped at his knee. This place was too nice to get fresh. "How do I know I've been screaming the right name?"
[Roman] "Oooh, chicken feet." He cleared his throat and put on a sort of snooty aire and accent to himself, the southern drawl gone and instead sounding more pretentious than anything else. He held up his hands in display like he was holding a bowl. "Here we have a bowl of our finest poultry a'faray. The broth is made from the tears of orphans from previously undiscovered tribes. The a'faray itself is selected from only the finest of poultry who have been born and bred to cluck in five different languages, even hmong. It's garnished with a sprig of rosemary from the Queen Mum's own private garden and just a tasteful drizzle of Vladimir Putin's semen," he said, making his hand flourish in front of the invisible bowl of chicken foot soup. He grinned when she told him why she picked sushi. "I do like fish. Though, I must admit, I don't normally let somebody prepare my raw fish; I do it on my own under the water. Or if I'm gonna cook it, it's in a fire." Not usually fancy fish parts rolled up in Thames weeds. His brow rose a bit when her foot started to get a little feelsy, and slowly his grin turned to a smirk. "You have to understand that it's not as if nagas have mothers to name them. You just sort of... acquire a name as you go. Me? I've acquired several. As for you... You keep right on screamin' any of my names, and we'll be in good shape. .. And I'll keep making sure you've reason to scream." He picked up his glass of water and took a long sip. "A pseudonum? ... Of sorts, I suppose."
[Miriam] Now, it had been established that Roman was great at leaving Mira a limp, gasping, bright-eyed wreck on the bed. You know what else he was good at? Making her laugh. It started with a gentle snicker, but by the time he was done with his description of the poultry a'faray, she had both hands over her mouth and was trying not to crack up too loudly. "Oh my god," she squeaked out behind her hands. "You could make millions! We could make millions! Though I don't know if Putin will be forthcoming with his jizz." Forthcoming! See what she did there?! Good. "Think anyone will notice if you substitute your own?" So nagas did not get names. They picked them up. And he'd picked up several. "My name," she offered him, since they were on the subject, "means wished-for child. Or bitter, or rebellious, or water. Something like that. That's the problem with those ancient Biblical names, they're so old it's hard to figure out where they came from." Her foot slipped back down, politely, and was replaced in her shoe when the waitress came to take their order. Mira gave it like a woman who was used to ordering things in restaurants where thousand dollar beef was on the menu, even though she was not. She was used to sushi, at least, but generally in a more toned-down setting. Once they were through--and yes, she ordered a drink too, but not the one that was made with kobe fat because that sounded horrible--she turned back to Roman. "Well, Roman or Frank or whoever you are, I think I would like for you to keep me screaming once we're through eating." Her voice grew soft, grew warm, like a fire melting through layers and layers of ice. "Can I tell you something?" Mira didn't wait for his answer, because if she waited, she'd lose her nerve. "I missed you."
[Roman] "I could jerk it on a bowl of chicken soup and nobody's be any the wiser," he said, like that wasn't one of the most ridiculous sentences to ever be uttered by anyone ever. "Ain't nobody gonna do any DNA testing, and even if they did, they're gonna be less concerned with the validity of Putin's cum and more concerned with figuring out where the hell the donor is," he said, hinting around his whole secret. He was going to keep dancing around it until either she guessed it or he figured out a way to break it to her that didn't sound stupid or like a fish story. 'I'm the one who broke out of Alcatraz' sounds like a drunken tale on a Saturday night. "I can see all of those things in you," he said of the meaning of Mira's name. Roman ordered off his menu like he was a drunk man at Denny's, simply pointing to his order so he didn't have to think about saying it correctly. For tonight, he was going to stick with water; he was a little dehydrated. "Oh, I'll make sure to do so. Though, I won't be done eating," he said with a suggestive little glint in his eye. Now, when Mira came out with what she had to say, his usually cocky smirk softened into a little smile. He was quiet for a moment, but during this quiet time he was reaching across the table so that he could take her hand, then bring it to his mouth to press a very delicate kiss upon her knuckles. "I missed you, too," he admitted. "You make it hard to stay off the grid."
[Miriam] Her eyebrows raised. "Oh, really now? You got people looking for you? Should I worry?" Her eyes smoldered. "Should I be scared of you, Roman? Because a tiny hint of fear can be quite arousing." So they were going to play this game. The game where they dropped suggestive comments at each other and offered one another heated looks over dinner. "No, I'm not afraid of you. But if somebody's after you, maybe I should know? You know, so I can easily divert anyone who comes to my door looking for you?" Mira offered him big, sweet eyes and an adorably dumb expression. "Roman Kerrs? Oh, I don't think I know anybody by that name, Constable! His picture doesn't look familiar either. Yes sir, I'll be sure to alert the authorities if I see him!" The stupid expression went away. "And then I'll go back to where you're hiding naked in my closet, and we'll go right back to rolling in the sheets like nothing ever happened." But when he got all...soft, with her, when he kissed her knuckles while she curled her fingers around his hand like she never wanted to let go, something strange happened. Mira Roth was the kind of girl who had her shit together on an unprecedented level, or at least she was good at pretending that she did and presenting that vibe to the outside world. But here she was, dumb and sweet, her tawny complexion brightened by a hint of pink in her cheeks. "Keep safe," she said, words spilling forth before she had a chance to replace her filter. "Keep safe, Roman. I don't want anything to happen to you because of me. I like you too much for that." Her thumb brushed the palm of his hand. "You're more than just pretty much the best fuck of my life."
[Roman] He smirked when she went on her convincing schpiel about not knowing any Roman Kerrs at all. "I could be standing naked and full staff in front of them and they wouldn't know who they was lookin' for," he said, continuing to hold her hand in his. "They'd be comin'to your door looking for an old man named Frank and showin'you a picture of some wrinkly thing. Which, honestly, I find a little offensive. They didn't age me well at all," he said, shaking his head. Roman idly drew figure eights on the palm of her hand with his thumb. "Honey, ain't nothin'you can do that I ain't already done to myself. I've been a'runnin'for a long time. What they don't know about what they lookin'for is their downfall. All of their DNA and forensic bullshit and finger print data does nothin'for something that ain't human and sheds every couple'a months." He grinned a little bit more. "You know, flattery will get you far, woman," he said, a little teasingly, but not offensively. He could tell she was nervous or flustered or something negative that brought a tint to her cheeks. So he might as well tell her things as well. "My phone number changes often. I never carry over contacts from one phone to the next. Never." He kept eye contact with that one so that hopefully she'd understand what he tried to say there.
[Miriam] "I do know an old man named Frank," she admitted. "He's some sort of...butler thing for my friend Alice Clare. I'm pretty sure she'd drown me if I sent the cops to her place, though." Also he was undead. Something Roman probably didn't need to know right now. Honestly, Mira was a bit worried about Alice these days. She had lost her twin sister and seemed to be coming unhinged quicker than usual. The girls really needed to talk...but not right now. It was hard for her to look away from Roman anyway. "So what did this old man Frank do, anyway? Other than, apparently, escape justice through shedding." Ew, was that going to be a thing he was going to do on her carpet or something? Would he have to go naga for it? If he started to shed, would Mira have to run him a bath? Oh well, she supposed every supernatural creature had their own crazy shit. Like her awful skin rash whenever she wore jewelry that wasn't solid silver or gold. It was why those handcuffs that she had--she'd surely busted them out by now--were leather restraints, not metal. Nervous, that was what she was, nervous, and her nerves softened when he spoke. And she understood exactly what he was getting at. He had kept her number just so they could stay in touch. Mira slowly tugged her hand away, but it was to stand up and walk to his side of the table. Their food hadn't come yet. It was no big deal if she just walked over there, right? Walked over, leaned down, put her arms around him. "Thank you." He'd had a golden opportunity to ditch her and instead he had taken special care not to. "Thank you for not, um...bailing. On me." That earned Roman a kiss, something sweet and slow-burning like cool embers stirring back to life in a breeze.
[Roman] Roman, for what it was worth, was not a fan of being in handcuffs. But if Mira liked it, then he'd cuff her. He'd been in enough handcuffs during his lifetime, and while he was exceptionally good at getting out of them, he'd rather just not be in them in the first place. "Old Frank? Why, nothing to be afraid of," he said, referencing their earlier conversation. "He didn't go around killing for fun. But he did have his fun, that Frank. You know, I'm honestly surprised they're still looking for him. He's gotta be in his nineties by now," he said, trying to do mental math and sort of falling short. He shrugged, though. "Frank is a pretty well-known fellow, actually. Tell me, darling, have you ever been to the California coast? San Francisco, perhaps? Lovely place, I suppose. Cold water, though. Not a fan of the salt, but I can tolerate it enough." Maybe she'd be able to piece it together, but if not, he'd keep dropping her hints. When she came over to his side of the table to wrap her arms around him, he perked up slightly, curious as to her reaction. "A fella's gotta be stupid to bail on you," he said, then returned the kiss with just as much smoldering passion. His hands had come up to cup her cheeks, and when he pulled away, he murmured against her lips. "Besides, what good is ol'Jim without Tilly around to make sure he's medicated? That was his name, right? Jim? Aw, I don't remember. That was a crappy alias anyway."
[Miriam] Mira liked being restrained. She liked a lot of things. She liked to hurt. He'd probably picked up on that their first night out in the truck by the lake, when he had snapped his belt and she had looked up, thrilled, like she was anticipating to be hit or bound with it. If not, well, they had been together more than a few times since. There were probably requests for harder, more, don't treat me like I'm a delicate flower. Right now, though, what she liked was puzzles. And she liked being close to Roman, which meant that it was hard to step away from him. So she didn't. She stayed close, rubbed her hand along his shoulders, leaned her head down to rest her face against the top of his head a moment. She'd missed him dreadfully, and it was so, so stupid that she had. What was he, her boyfriend or something? They were friends. Friends who had a great time together, friends who knew how to please one another, friends who were probably one step away from becoming accomplices. "Jimmy, you're gonna get us killed," she said, in her New York old lady voice, but it was still soft and sweet. "So Frank did stuff in California and now he would be old if you didn't have super amazing naga anti-aging powers?" she hazarded. It made her question her own aging and mortality. People did remark that she didn't look a day over eighteen, and she really didn't. Wide-eyed, fresh-faced, sweet. You could tell that she had aged in photos, but maybe it was just the changes in her hair and her makeup and her attire. Maybe. There wasn't a huge difference between eighteen and twenty-four. It could have just been wishful thinking--or fear. "It sounds like you're leading me on a mental treasure hunt. Are you?"
[Roman] Roman definitely didn't treat her like a delicate flower. Now, that wasn't to say that he abused her. It was always consensual and done in an intimate matter. To please the both of them. He wasn't rough with her unless she wanted it -- she just happened to always want it, and he was more than happy to give it to her. She was the massochism to his sadism. Mira stayed close, but she definitely didn't have to stay standing up. He took her with the waist and pulled her down beside her, close enough so that she was very nearly sitting atop him with one leg. He reached across and rested his hand on her far thigh. "A mental treasure hunt. You could say that. Now you've got all the clues you're gonna get, Kitten," he said with a grin. That was when the waitress brought them their drinks and their sushi. He gave her a little thanks, and then looked down at the plate of ... fish? "I don't even know what this is," he said, picking up one of his sashimi things and sniffing at it while letting it dangle from his finger tips.
[Miriam] Arms slid around his neck, her nose brushing his jaw, as she was tugged down nearly onto his lap. Oh, she would have loved to have stayed there, don't get her wrong. Mira was currently taking psychology classes for her core requirements, and she knew that what she was feeling was just a bunch of chemicals running through her bloodstream, but oh, when he touched her, when he brushed his hand against her thigh, she felt it again. That little flutter deep down in her stomach that had nothing to do with the fact that she was starving and more than ready for the sushi. "So you're giving me a challenge?" she asked. "Fine, I'll find your treasure. Who knows what secrets I'll dig up about you, Mr. Frank?" Frank, Roman, whomever. She supposed it didn't really matter, as long as he was the same person. When she picked herself up and moved back to her side of the table, it was with a little nip to his earlobe. There. Sashimi and drinks, just what Mira wanted, and she took a long sip of her sweetly boozy concoction before glancing back up to Roman and his bewilderment. Smirk. "Salmon, it looks like. Here..." She delicately picked up her own piece, between her chopsticks, and held it there. "Definitely salmon. It's good." Her brow furrowed. "If you don't like it, don't worry. We'll make sure you get something to eat." And Mira did feel...bad? Really, she felt bad? She was out on a date with the man who made her body give off all sorts of alarming physiological responses, and she was concerned about him doing all of this for her because she worried he might not enjoy the food? Oh, this was bad, this was so fucking bad.
[Roman] Aww, no, Mira. You could have stayed right where you were! He actually made a noise akin to what might have been considered a pout when she moved herself away from him and across the table. He would have been more than happy to keep her there for the rest of their meal. Now, even though he was unfamiliar with the fancy fish meal, it didn't mean that he wasn't enjoying the food or the time here. Yes, he'd done this for her, but fish was fish, even if it was served up in neat, colorful little packages. Chopsticks weren't going to happen, or at least not properly. Mira might have been able to use them, but Roman sure as shit couldn't. Instead, he jabbed a single chopstick all the way through one of the salmon sashimi .. things. Rolls? Boats? Loaves? He pulled up the chopstick so that it was horizontal and and the fish wouldn't fall off. It sort of swung and dangled there for a moment, and then he jabbed it into his mouth. Mm, okay, so the fish was good, even if it was hoity toity. He finished chewing and swallowed, then grinned at her. "Alright, so the fish is good. Not sure why there's sea weed, but hey! It's good." It wasn't very filling, and Roman could seriously spend a loooott of money to get his fill, but as long as Mira was happy with her fancy meal, then he'd be good. "How is it? Good?"
[Miriam] Wait, he wanted her to stay there for the meal? Mira could do that. Once the waitress was gone, she scooted her plate over to his side of the table, sauntered back over with her drink, and took up the seat beside him rather than across from him. It was easier to touch that way, and she tugged her chair on over so she was nestled against him, side by side, her hip touching his. Bless that attempt at chopsticks. She took his hand gently, nestled the chopsticks between his fingers where they belonged. "Like this," she said. "Put this one here, like you're holding a pen. The other one goes between your thumb and your index finger, and you use your thumb to manipulate it." Her hand was soft, cool, small on his, and although there was no need for her fingers to linger there, they did, pulling away only when she picked up her own chopsticks to demonstrate. "See?" She pinched a piece of fish off his plate with her own sticks, and held it to his mouth for him to sample, before going after her own. Not particularly filling, no, she had to admit. But then again, they could always eat more later. This was one of those places where you went for dinner to see and be seen and have an experience, not necessarily fill up. Lucky for Roman, Mira was completely down with shitty fast food, too. What did she miss about America? White Castle. She missed White Castle, and IHOP. Those were amazing. "The seaweed," she continued, her shoulder against his now, "is nori. It's good for you, I guess?" Sitting beside him, working those chopsticks, she looked almost aristocratic, and it was easy to see how she could work a crowd in the circus. Mira knew how to perform. "...Hey. Wanna stir up a little shit and have some dinner entertainment?"
[Roman] Hooray! There was a Mira right next to him, and he draped an arm about her shoulder while he continued to single-handedly stab his sashimi with one chopstick. Until, of course, she decided to show him how to use it. Now, he wasn't complaining that she was touching him; he did enjoy that. But Mira, you were trying to teach the cowboy how to use chopsticks, and it was a lost cause. He held it the way she told him, and then with one wrong flick of his thumb, one of his sticks flipped out of his hand and landed on the floor. He grinned stupidly and continued to stab them with one stick. Though he did take the bite from the one he offered her. "Next time I go swimming, I'll dig you up some healthy plant sludge from the Thames. It'll be good for you," he said with a playful smirk. But he would continue eating. It wasn't bad, and he was particularly a fan of the ones with the little fish eggs on top. Those were delicious... He brought his drink up to his lips and took a long sip, then looked sidelong at her. Stirring up shit for some dinner entertainment? He raised a sly brow. "What's on your mind, Kitten?" Apparently, her new name was Kitten, but maybe it was because she practically purred whenever she was near, and he loved it. Besides, she was eating fish, so...
[Miriam] "Please don't give me plant sludge." She wrinkled her nose with a piece of eel between her chopsticks. "If just swimming in the Thames can give me eye fungus, I don't even want to know what sort of intestinal parisites I'd get from eating plant sludge." Mira leaned in. Brushed her nose against the shell of his ear. Whispered right beside it. "I'm not a naga like you. I'm a kitten." And apparently, she had accepted her new nickname. Kitten. It seemed accurate. Soft, sweet, and she loved to be touched--but only on her own terms, and if somebody came too close and she didn't want them there, the claws would come out and blood would spill. "There's something I can do that I've never showed you," she murmured. "Watch." A brief glance around them confirmed that nobody was paying them a lick of attention. They were just a cute pair sitting there and sharing sushi while the pretty girl in teal tried to show the handsome cowboy how to work chopsticks--and failed utterly. So Mira held out her hand to Roman, palm up. It took a bit of focus, but a tiny snake materialized in her hand. Just a little bitty corn snake, and it peered at Roman and flicked out its forked tongue. "I can create illusions," she murmured. "Go on, touch it. There's nothing there." And sure enough, his fingers would go right through the itty bitty snake. "Look at all these fancy people," she murmured. "Bet they've got some nice shinies they'd leave behind if we shook 'em up." See where she was going with this, Roman?
[Roman] A shiver. A tiny shiver ran down his spine when her warm breath damn near purred into his ear. ... That was nice, and he was certainly glad that she'd embraced the new nickname he'd given her. Okay, so no plant sludge. He was just kidding anyway. But she had an idea, and he wanted to hear her out. He watched her hand, curiously wondering what it was that he was going to
do. Something she hadn't shown him? He knew of her wings, and he knew what she was, but he didn't really know much about her kind. Seelie, unseelie. Who knew. It wasn't until the little corn snake appeared in her hand that he grinned and brought a hand over to try and touch it. It looked so real, but although he saw the orange and black of the little reptile, his fingers just felt the soft flesh of her palm. There was nothing there. Was he following her train of thought? Oh, yeah. "Finish y'fish," he said. "There isn't gonna be time to come back and finish when we gotta be runnin'like everyone else," he said with a grin. Of course, they'd look like they were running and were the last ones out, but they'd get a lot of good things to play with this evening! Roman ditched the chop stick and picked up one of his last pieces of sashimi and just shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
[Miriam] Good. She wanted him shivering, she wanted him thinking about her. And for once, if she had stopped to examine her own motivation and thought processes, she would realize that it had nothing to do with fear of abandonment. She just liked to know that she could make Roman a very, very distracted man. The cheeky grin on Mira's face didn't go away when he poked gently at her palm, right through the tiny little snake. Which was now given a top hat, by the way, because it was a nice restaurant and even a tiny illusory corn snake needed some dinner wear. Okay, it was obvious at this point that Mira was just fucking around, and she closed her fingers on the snake and it disappeared into nothing. "Does this also qualify as a dine and dash?" she inquired, clearly intrigued by the prospect. But there wasn't much time for additional discussion, was there? She scarfed down her food as fast as she could while remaining well-mannered, and chugged about half of her drink, the rest left. She wasn't as good of a runner when she was tipsy. She wanted something pretty. Oh, her mind was running with possibilities. This would be her first theft. Not her first crime, but her first theft. When her food was done, she looked to Roman, waiting for his go-ahead. Already she was plotting the snake in her mind. Something big. Something terrifying. Something that would make ladies clutch their pearls and men flee. Why a snake? Because she was sitting beside one. "You just tell me when, handsome," she murmured, her hand sliding up his thigh.
[Roman] A top hat? Really? That made him snicker a little bit through the whole shoveling and chewing thing he had going on. It might have been Mira's first robbery, but this was old hat for him. So much for laying low? But hey, there would be a legitimate reason for everybody to flee. All of the witnesses would talk about the snake that was terrorizing them and the chivalrous man with the fainted lady date held the door open for everyone before saving himself and his lady. That way, everybody would be out of the room and they could quickly scavenge. "I'll have to take you out somewhere else expensive and actually pay to impress you, I suppose." Oh darn. He'd just have to go out on another fancy date with Mira. "Alright," he said, smirking as her hand slid up his thigh. "Here's what you're going to do." He said quietly against her ear, making it look like he was simply whispering sweet nothings and making her giggle instead of giving her instructions on how to best commit this burglary. "Drop the snake... When you see it... I'm talking good, sweet, innocent Miriam. When that Miriam sees it, she screams and faints. I'll make sure that I've got you, and I'll usher people to the door, to safety. When the coast is clear, grab what you can. Nothing bulky. Not full purses. Phones. Wallets. Cash left on tables. Credit cards in bill folds. Hide them. And I'll carry my poor, frightened, traumatized girlfriend to safety after making sure everybody is also safe," he said with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Whenever you're ready."
[Miriam] "Next time, maybe let's do something like steak?" she suggested. "But yes. You are just going to have to take me out on another date. And another, and another, and another. Maybe I'll just keep fucking shit up so you keep having to take me on additional dates." Another topic for Mira to explore in more depth when she was feeling a bit more introspective, perhaps? Another time. When Roman leaned in to whisper to her, she responded just as she knew she should. She giggled, she squirmed a little. She even murmured, "Not in public. Jesus...we're at a nice restaurant!" But while she was squeaking with delight and burying her face against his neck, something dark and inky seemed to slide from her outstretched fingertips, underneath the table. The snake that piled upon itself was huge. Twelve feet long, easily. Mottled in colors of the rainforest and probably a sign that Mira didn't know jack shit about herpetology, but it would do the job. "Take me home after we pay the bill?" she cooed like a lovesick puppy. "All I've been able to think about these last few days was you..." Lovesick puppy? Or was she telling the truth and disguising it as tomfoolery? The snake began to lurch its way towards a nearby table, slithered up a woman's leg. The woman, a middle-aged one, screamed in terror, and Mira wrenched her head in its direction. "Oh my god!" she screeched, just as the woman raised the alarm. "A snake! Good heavens, somebody brought a snake!" And the restaurant exploded into chaos, while the little actress sagged dramatically against Roman's side. Good. This way she could focus on controlling her illusion. She couldn't see where it was going, no. But she could sort of guide it mentally.
[Roman] Roman was completely unaware that they were going to have to have a discussion and soon. As far as he was concerned, he just wanted to keep doin'what they were doin' because it was fun and he liked her, and he really didn't want to be without her around -- life was boring without his favorite little sword swallower around. She didn't mind his crimes, and he could be real around her. "If I knew this was how it was gonna end, I woulda ordered the thousand pound steak..." he said with a smirk. Go on a date again and again and again? Hell, like that was some sort of death sentence? But things were a go, and he picked up his drink to finish it off when the snake made its way over to some random lady. Three, two, one... There it was. The shriek from the other lady. He whipped his attention around to the woman, his arm going protectively around Mira. He was unaware that the little fae was an actual actress, and he'd have to compliment her on her acting skills later. He slipped his arm around her back and sort of held her aloft with his hand beneath her arm. She was little; there wasn't going to be a problem holding her. "Everybody get out! Go!" he said, almost upending the table as he carried Mira towards the door, watching everybody else already fleeing. He held the door with his free hand, making sure everybody was leaving. "Ladies first, ladies first!" he said, putting his hand on an older lady's back to give her a little bit of help leaving. Waitstaff left. Everybody. And then he set Mira up on her two feet. "Go, go, go," he whispered to her, while he stayed at the doorway. "Get what you can, I'll meet you at the street. I'm going to help the kitchen staff..." He blew her a kiss and a wink, then ran towards the kitchen to help them all escape, leaving Mira to get what she could during the commotion.
[Miriam] She would have said that they could come back, but really, did they want to come back after the impromptu heist they're staging? There were other sushi restaurants they could visit, with more traditional and filling rolls. He would like a rainbow roll, probably! They were her favorite. California roll on the inside, with crab and cucumber, with nori and rice. The outside was striped with avocado and sashimi pieces. So it wouldn't be half as fancy, but it would be delicious. Mira went limp as Roman held her, and her mind continued to navigate the snake, guiding it from table to table as everyone fled. Oh, everyone, look at her brave hero, holding the door and helping people escape! Until he gave her the all clear, and she popped back up to her feet. "Okay. I'll meet you there." Kiss! His blown kiss was caught and clutched in her hand with a wink, and then she was gone, skittering from table to table. Now, not everything was taken. If you took everything, she reckoned, they'd catch on way faster than they would if she just...selectively picked. A wallet here, slipped into her purse. A credit card there, nestled into her bra. She even crammed a bit of expensive kobe beef into her mouth off somebody's untouched plate, just to taste it, and decided it was the food equivalent of recieving oral. A phone, too, pushed into her purse, because she figured Roman would know a way to make sure it couldn't be traced. When she had finally obtained everything she felt comfortable taking, she stealthily emerged in the street again, standing amongst the fretting crowd. At least she stood out, tawny-skinned and dark-haired, swathed in deep-water teal. And if Roman looked hard enough, of course, there was a bit of shimmer behind her back, as though wings were reflecting the light.
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Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide
Posts: 146
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Dec 13, 2015 20:41:13 GMT -8
CAST: Roman Kerrs (idealdanger@aol.com), Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com)
SUMMARY: The morning after their dinner-date heist, Miriam has found the truth about Roman's identity. She confronts him, gets her answers, and decides that she's going to give this strange "monogamy" concept a spin.
TW: Mention of sexual things.
[Roman] Last night had been something else, really. He had taken Mira out to dinner -- a really nice dinner, mind you -- and it had abruptly ended with a quality robbery involving Mira's ability to make illusions. No wonder his lil'city girl had been in the circus! Either way, the whole thing had ended differently than any of the rest of their 'dates.' They'd gone back to his flat, and when they'd made it to the bedroom, Roman hadn't treated her like a delicate flower or a sex kitten. Lots of lead up. Lots of emotion. It wasn't fucking; not by a long shot. And it had been incredibly satisfying on both their parts. As he had gone to sleep before her, he awoke before her, naked as a jay bird. Heh, jay bird... Ahem. He rolled over to press a few kisses to her shoulder, let his hand roam over the swell of her hip, and then quietly slipped out of bed to slide on a pair of burgandy boxer briefs. He didn't want to wake her up, but he was gonna cook his little kitten some breakfast -- had to protect the junk from spattering grease. First thing's first. Into the kitchen they went, and Roman turned the faucet on, then stuck his head beneath to get a long drink as well as to wet his hair and his head. It was like taking a deep gasp of air after suffocating. With his head dripping wet, he snagged some things out of the fridge. Eggs, bell pepper, cheese... He was gonna make her an omelette! Things were chopped and whipped together, and he was currently in the process of cooking it up in a nice non-stick skillet, hair still damp.
[Miriam] It was only after Roman had dozed that Mira had reached for her discarded purse and found her phone. She'd done some googling. She'd learned a few things. California. Frank. Water. Crimes. Robberies. And she was pretty sure she had stumbled upon a truth that even the faerie herself was having a hard time believing. Now, of course she was okay with the notion that Roman Kerrs was perhaps not his actual name. He was on the run. But now there was yet another layer of mystery that she was slowly peeling back. Mira awakened not too long after Roman touched her, kissed her, brushed fingers over her skin. Her bare skin. The night was still a vivid spark in her mind, and not just her discoveries. The dinner, the impromptu robbery. The slow build-up and final explosion of passion. Had she ever had it like that before? It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rough. There was something more to it. Something that swam beneath the surface like...like a naga in the Thames, actually. Roman was gone, and she rubbed at her eyes as she sat up. A few moments later, she slipped out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his white dress shirts, pilfered from his closet, buttoned over her breasts, and her panties from last night. Oh, she knew she was looking good. She knew it, and that was why she slowly slipped up behind him, curling her arms around his waist. "Oh, look at you. Breakfast and everything?" Up on her toes, so she could press kisses to the side of his neck where she knew his gills were. Gills. Not any weirder than her wings, though. "You're awfully good to me." Those warm kisses slid up, to his ear. "By the way...I guess being a naga is awfully helpful when you're busting out of Alcatraz, isn't it?"
[Roman] Oh yes. He'd given her all sorts of hints last night and sent her on a treasure hunt. He didn't mind if she knew, but he wasn't going to outright tell her. He was going to make her find out on her own, with a few key elements to his story. San Francisco. Age progression. Salt water. There was enough, apparently, for Mira to plug everything into google and come up with an answer she was confident with. He smirked when he felt her arms snake around him, and he turned his head slightly so he could look at her over his shoulder. "I made you hungry, I might as well keep you fed," he said, leaning back into her touch and her kisses just a tad. And then, when she was at his ears, there it was. She figured it out. He paused for only half a moment before the smirk softened into a bit of a lazy grin. "A perk that nobody was privvy to," he explained. He used a spatula to sloppily flip the omelette in the pan and cook the other side. "Definitely easier with water than it is on land," he explained. "You figured it out. Congratulations. Is that what you did after I fell asleep?" he asked, "or did it come to you in a dream?" With the omelette cooking, he turned around and slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her close at the hip, and swayed her a bit.
[Miriam] It had taken a little while and some fine-tuning and some google-fu, but yes, she had figured it out. When he pulled her in and swayed with her, Mira laughed, her arms around his neck. So this was what it felt like. This was what it felt like to wake up and have somebody make you breakfast and to laugh with them in their kitchen the morning after. "You fell asleep, but I couldn't. I was thinking about everything you'd told me. So I grabbed my phone, and I learned." Up on her toes she again popped, so her nose was brushing against his while they spoke. "Frank. You clever, clever man. You look different now, but I read all about you. IQ of 130? Awfully intelligent, aren't you. How in the world did you get caught? I would think you'd be able to outsmart just about anybody with that...prodigious intellect." And then she took a tiny step back, just enough so she could look up at him. "Roman, why did you give me hints? Did you want me to find out?" Roman. She'd keep calling him Roman, because she understood very well that sometimes you chose a new name because your old one didn't work for you anymore. But the longer she looked at him, the more she could feel those red flags popping up in her brain. Not the same kind of red flags that she was used to, oh no. Not the ones that said this man was dangerous and a threat. The ones that said that she was feeling things she had no right to be feeling. Run, Mira, run before you let your heart be broken. And instead of giving in to her terror, she kissed him. Slow and soft and sweet, a wholly different side of Miss Roth.
[Roman] How in the world did he get caught? He playfully nipped at her lips without actually getting her while she asked her questions. "Nobody's born a good criminal... I was young. I made mistakes. But I learned from them..." When she pulled back, he moved his hands to her hips. Oh, she looked good in his shirt... "If I didn't want you to find out, Miriam, you wouldn't know. I've spent over fifty years hiding it; I'm good at it now." Hey, Roman wasn't going to say no to those red flags when it was those red flags that brought her mouth in towards his. And you know? One of his hands came up from her hip and cupped her cheek rather affectionately while he returned her kiss just as soft and sweet. When he pulled away, he brushed his fingers through his hair and turned towards the sizzling omelette. "I'm running low on eggs. Don't wanna burn 'em or you won't have any breakfast," he said, lifting the skillet off of the burner and tipping the folded omelette onto a plate for her. "Bell peppers and cheese. You'd mentioned being Jewish, so no bacon or sausage." Just in case! But if you don't feel like being a good Jew, I can cook some up on the side."
[Miriam] "How old are you, anyway?" she inquired. "I never would have guessed you were over fifty. Or over thirty." Naga clearly did not age the same way humans did. And honestly, she had no idea if she aged the way humans did, either. The only way to know was to age. Mira let him step away towards the omelette, and instead she parked herself on the counter nearby, far enough away from the stove so she didn't catch herself on fire or something. Long-legged, nearly-naked, and about to be fed breakfast? Hell yes, this was amazing. "Why did you want me to know?" That question was asked softly. Mira had the distinct notion that they were dancing around something, wordlessly. Like something was developing between the two of them that was the invisible elephant in the room, and they were simply prancing about and trying to get the other one to say something first. This was fear in a raw form, but it was exciting at the same time. She took the plate gently, and her laughter bubbled forth from those still-red lips--that lipstick had some impressive staying power, you know? The kind that had the separate gloss that kept it on there for a million years. She had not reapplied it. That shit was staying on til she got home and scrubbed it off with makeup remover. "I'm Jewish, yes. You remembered. But I'm also a really shitty Jew. We never kept kosher, so bacon me right on up." There was a pause, and she set the plate down beside her on the counter, hands on either side of her body in preparation to hop off. "Actually, I can make the bacon. You want to be one of the very few people to ever see me barefoot in a kitchen, doing anything more complex than grabbing a bowl of cereal?" She was a bad, bad cook--but bacon she could do. Probably.
[Roman] Those red lips were incredibly sexy. Especially when he looked down and saw them wrapped around certain body parts. How old is he? "I don't know, to tell you the truth. Old, I guess. Reptiles don't exactly have birthdays. Nor do fish. And I'm somewhere in between," he said with a little shrug. "I seem to have stopped growing, though, so I guess that means I'm an adult, huh?" he said with a little grin. Okay, why did he want her to know? "That's a good question, Kitten," he said, starting to crack eggs into another bowl to make himself an omelette. "I don't know that either, really. I trust you, I guess is the best answer. If you're Clyde and you find a Bonnie, full disclosure is really the best way, don'tcha think?" he asked. Mira might be frightened, but Roman wasn't. He wasn't exactly looking for a long-term relationship, but he didn't want to not be with Mira. It was more of a... 'go with the flow' sort of situation. When she offered to cook the bacon, he smirked. "Barefoot in the kitchen, but most definitely not pregnant. Even if you wanted me to, I can't get you pregnant. Naga... Not compatible," he explained. Something about numbers of chromosomes or whatever. He did step aside to let her test her hand at cooking some bacon. Bad Jew.
[Miriam] If you're Clyde and you find a Bonnie. Mira slipped off the counter effortlessly, landing neatly on her feet, and sashayed her way over to join him. "I'll be the Bonnie to your Clyde any day," she murmured. "No matter what you want to call yourself." A fridge detour to get the bacon, and she snatched up a second pan so she could get the bacon going for the both of them. The mention of babies just made her wrinkle her nose in horror. "Ew. Good. I mean...I don't really hate children, but I definitely do not want any of my own. What the fuck would I do with a baby? I dunno, can I put it to work? Can I put little chamois wipes on its hands and knees and let it loose in the kitchen to get at the floorboards?" Yeah no, Mira, don't breed. "Babies are best when I can give them back to their handlers after ten or fifteen minutes." Eight strips of bacon, four for each of them, were laid neatly in the skillet once she was pretty sure it was hot enough. It sizzled, and she shied back from the heat briefly before sort of dispassionately watching it cook. Her mind was on other things. Finally, though, she turned back to Roman. "Hey. I don't want to like...I don't know, scare you or anything. But I'm starting to feel like...I don't know. Emotions. For you. Things. I...yeah. I don't know how else to put it." But Vivian had told her that she needed to tell him, so she did, though it was awkward and stumbling. Almost as an afterthought, she added, "I feel safe with you." Now that was a compliment.
[Roman] "Well, good! 'Cuz ain't no other girl that's half as good at being a Bonnie as Miriam Roth," he said with a grin. Like he showed up in blatently stolen vehicles when he took Saundra out for a drink and a lay? Yeah, right. She didn't have the chutzpa. Mira was an imp, and he could tell that from day one. But then things took an interesting turn in conversation. She didn't want to scare him? He raised a brow as she started talking and he looked at her a little confused-like. And you know? Her stuttering and stammering was kinda cute. "Miriam Roth... I hatched in the Everglades with predators all over the damn place... I lived in D.C. and went in and out of the system. I've robbed banks, I've stolen cars, and I've broken out of more than one prison in my lifetime. I swim with man-sized, man-eating catfish in the Thames. If you think that anything you tell me will scare me, you've got another think coming." He'd been through too much for some feelings talk to scare him. "Now... The question is..." he said, coming up behind her and the bacon, wrapping his arms around her waist and sort of spooning her to him while they stood there in front of the stove. "What do you plan to do with these thoughts and feelings of yours?"
[Miriam] While his list of accomplishments in terms of terror were certainly impressive, Mira was still thinking that relationships would be enough to scare him. Was that even what she wanted? A relationship? To be with him and only him? What if she was rushing? What if she was being foolhardy? What if he left? That was why she was afraid, because there was still that nagging worry that he'd leave her. No warning, no reason, he'd just decide he was done and she'd wake up alone and heartbroken and some other poor girl would die on the Thames as a result of her admittedly misplaced rage. Mira stalled for time. She flipped the bacon so it didn't burn, though that also seemed highly unnecessary at this point of the cooking process. Finally, she replied, and as soon as he started to hold on to her, she relaxed. She really did feel safe around him; she simply worried that her faith was misplaced. "I don't know," she finally answered. "But I think...I think it might be time for me to stop having sex with other people. Well, the one other person that I was sleeping with." She turned in his arms, so she could face him, and peered up into his eyes. "You won't leave, right? I mean, not without talking to me first? You won't leave without giving me a reason, right? You won't find somebody else and just disappear?"
[Roman] Oh, Mira. You were so broken, weren't you? Roman wasn't exactly trying to glue her pieces back together on purpose, but he supposed that it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. He really did like her. He thought about her often, and he wanted to be around her a lot of the time. Hell, he'd called her from his new number. He'd given her a way to trace him, to find him, because he didn't not want to see her. He had her hands on her bare stomach, softly drawing his fingertips over her skin; at least until she turned around in his arms. Ooh, she was going to stop sleeping with other people? That was quite the commitment. "Is that what you'd like me to do, too?" he asked, because he wanted to know her thoughts on the matter. He'd already taken action on that, but he'd let her know after she spoke it aloud. And then... Then the vulnerable words left her lips. "...Leave?" he asked, his face screwed up a bit in confusion. "Miriam, if I leave, it's not forever. If you don't hear from me, it's not because I'm bored of you; it's because I need to lay low. I can't promise that I won't disappear for a few days at a time, but I really don't have any desire to not pull you into my own grid..."
[Miriam] Nobody could glue Mira Roth back together but herself. But any aid that Roman might provide would be deeply appreciated. And to think, this was an improvement over where she had been not so long ago. When she had thought that nobody would love her, ever. When she had thought that she was destined to be alone. Now she knew better, but she was still scared that she'd have a repeat of everything that had happened to her in the past, everyone she'd been with in the past. "I won't make you stop sleeping with anyone," she began, softly. "I don't want to be that sort of girl. But if you'd like to just...maybe have it be just us, and not other people, I think I'd like that a lot." The reassurance that she needed came. She relaxed all the more in his arms, twined her own around him, and pressed her form against his so she could duck her head against his chest and hide there. "Thank you." It was muffled, and she sighed. "Ugh, I don't mean to be all feelsy on you, but I needed that. And I know sometimes you'll have to go away, but you know where to find me when the coast is clear again." Mira tilted her head up, placed her chin gently against his chest, and smiled. "And I will miss you dreadfully, you know. I mean, I could get used to parading around your kitchen in nothing but your shirt and my panties..." Sniff. Was the bacon burning? "Fuck!" She yanked herself away from him and extracted the bacon, just barely saving it in the nick of time. It was piled on the plate she'd lined with paper towels, and she cringed a little, looking back at Roman. "I hope you like your bacon extra crispy."
[Roman] Well, of course she wasn't going to tell him what to do! He knew she wasn't that kind of girl. If she was, he never would have trusted her to begin with. He smirked, keeping his arms around her and cradling her against his bare chest while she spoke all of her insecurities. When he spoke, he murmured into her hair at the top of her head since she was ducking under his chin. "Saundra didn't get my new number. Nobody got my new number. You got my new number. ... I haven't slept with anybody else since shortly after I started sleeping with you," he admitted. When she tilted her head up, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then her forehead. "I could get used to that, too," he said, because seriously, that was fucking sexy. ... And then... Ack! He released her to salvage the extra crispy bacon, and he couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. "I think that was kosher biting you in the ass, Kitten," he said, giving her ass a playful little swat and then going back to the omelette he was mixing for himself. Back to the topic at hand, though. "One day at a time, yeah?"
[Miriam] "I..." She confessed it while she stepped back to work on her own omelette, digging in her fork. It was light and fluffy and absolutely perfect, and she let out an appreciative noise before taking a bite. "Oh, holy shit, this is good. You're good. Better than me and my burned-ass bacon. And the only thing I want biting me in the ass is you." Another few bites were taken before she continued the confession. "I haven't slept with Saint in a while. Since...shortly before my birthday, I think. I mean, I spend time with him sometimes, we hang out, we generally run in the same circles. But I haven't slept with him. I haven't...wanted to." She tapped the plate absently with her fork, let those dark eyes of hers raise to him while he cooked. Okay, so she had to admit, it was kinda...nice, watching him in his boxer briefs making breakfast. She could get used to it. To waking up here. To having breakfast with him. She darted her gaze to the living room, imagined herself stuffing a morning bagel in her face while she reviewed her notes for a test before having him drive her back to Shepherd. Oh no. She was getting too used to it. "One day at a time," she agreed, realizing that she was getting ahead of herself. "One day at a time. And I guess you're just going to have to keep dating me, aren't you? What a pity for you." One bare foot reached out so she could gently nudge his side with her toe.
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Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide
Posts: 146
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Dec 14, 2015 8:09:03 GMT -8
CAST: Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com), Roman Kerrs (idealdanger@aol.com) SUMMARY: Two American ex-pats get together for a very non-traditional Thanksgiving of fresh-caught frog legs. Miriam reveals the details of her family's recent troubles to Roman, and confesses that she's killed before. TW: Mention of death, murder, and teen pregnancy. Sexual situations towards the end.
[Miriam] The night hadn't yet fallen, but the sun was skimming low on the horizon, casting a gold glow upon the scene. The scene that included Mira Roth, on Thanksgiving day, in London, not back in New York with her father and her brother and her freshly knocked-up sister. She was perched upon the edge of the tailgate of Roman's truck, booted feet dangling off. Not the cowboy boots. A pair of ratty black ones, because whatever it was that they were going to do today, she knew that it involved mud. The faerie peered at the naga with those wide, too-dark eyes, one brow quirked up. "So you keep saying this is a surprise, and you keep assuming that mud is a verb somehow. What's this?" The low sunlight caught her wind-blown hair, bringing out hints of copper and gold and auburn in the dark brown. It was arguably way too cold for what Mira was wearing, too, a romper that was maybe better suited for Mackie's closet on the surface, short-sleeved and short-legged. But it was black, cut to a deep vee in the front that revealed a little gold necklace with a single ruby drop. Look, when she heard the word mud, she figured she needed to not wear anything that could get dirty. Maybe she should have done jeans? Whatever. She knew she looked good, especially with the olive-colored bomber jacket she'd put over it for the sake of keeping up appearances. Somewhere back home, it was around noon or so, and she was pretty sure that her sister was about to drop the bomb, if she hadn't already. That was why the rose gold iPhone in its clear plastic case was at her side, and waiting. Sooner or later, Rachel was going to text. Or call up in tears. Mira was hoping for option A. [Roman] Oh, he had definitely been using 'mud' as a verb, and while he'd told her today would involve mud and water, he was going to have to skip the actual 'mudding' and save it for another day. He had bigger plans tonight for Thanksgiving. They were both American, for a given value of 'citizen.' Roman had hatched in American waters, so that counted, right? He grinned as he sat next to her on the tail gate. "Oh, we'll go muddin'. Not tonight, because I don't have the right stuff, but we'll go muddin'. Tonight? We are gonna go giggin' without the gigs," he explained. He knew very well that she had no idea what gigging was, but he'd said it that way anyway just to be a brat. He grinned and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. "Ya boots are gonna get ruined. Here." He snagged a pair of wading boots -- they'd likely be a little big on her, but at least she wouldn't ruin her shoes! -- and hopped down off the tail gate. "Feet up," he said, and he patted his stomach to get her to put her feet up against him. He untied her boots and traded them for the knee-high rubber boots. "They ain't straight outta New York Fashion Week, but you'll be happy when ya don't step on somethin'you don't wanna step on." With her boots on, he patted her ankles to indicate that she could drop her feet, and Roman started towards the little pond area, the low sound of bullfrogs croaking from the shoreline. He didn't wear waders; he wore bare feet. [Miriam] "We're doing what now?" He was a little bit country, and she was a little bit, as she had said, glam-synthpop. But she was also very confused. Gigs were shows, right? Like when she played a gig? "How does...what?" When the kiss came to her temple, Mira responded by playfully shoving her hand in his face. "No no no. You don't get any sugar until you tell me what's going on. You know how I feel about surprises, right?" She was leery of them! And could anybody blame her after all the shit she'd been through over the years? Though then again...Roman's surprises had never been anything but wonderful, and maybe that was why she draped one arm around his shoulder and pulled him back in so she could give him the sugar she had blatantly denied him only two seconds ago. She brushed her nose against his, pulled back, and offered him that little smile that she never seemed to have available for other people. Up went the feet, and she let Roman untie her boots and replace them with the ugly-ass waders. "I'm not unwilling to sacrifice fashion for practicality," she teased, and she finally hopped off the tailgate and began to follow Roman towards the lakeshore, her phone left on the tailgate. There was going to be water involved. She did not want getting her phone wet. "So what does this entail?" she asked again, pulling up even alongside Roman despite the fact that his legs were much longer than her own. How? There was that flash of translucent red behind her, the flutter of dragonfly-wings. Out here, in the middle of ass-nowhere, was the only place other than Shepherd University, and maybe Alice Clare's bookstore Argosy, where she could drop the act and be the faerie. [Roman] Oh, she was a little minx today, wasn't she? He gave her the most shocked, over-dramatically hurt face when he denied her sugar, but she made up for it, so he returned her kiss with a grin. "Well," he said. "There aren't exactly wild turkeys roamin'around here, and I ain't exactly a gun man, so we can't get our own turkey for Thanksgiving, but there is somethin' in this lake that'll work just fine. Plus!" he said, holding up a halting finger. "It doesn't belong in here, so we'll be helpin'out the native 'phibs in here. Watch... And learn..." he said, knowing full well that he hadn't explained a damn thing and that she wasn't going to catch them in the same way as him. He tugged off his shirt, which left him in just a pair of fitted jeans -- dat ass doe -- and leapt gracefully into the lake in a bit of a swan dive. He went down underneath the surface of the water, and he was beneath for only a minute or two before he popped his head up, flicked his wet hair out of his face, and then walked towards the shallow end of the pond so that he could stand. When the water was just above his belly button, he grinned stupidly and brought his hands out of the water. And in them? Was a giant bullfrog croaking and squirming. He showed it off to Mira. "Go snag the livewell outta the back of the truck, will ya?" [Miriam] "We could've just gotten a turkey from the store," she pointed out, cozying herself right up to Roman's side, her arm wrapped around his middle. City girl, meet country boy, because where Mira came from, you got your food from the grocery store, not from actually, you know, obtaining it yourself. She knew, logically, that the food came from somewhere, but she had never really observed it, save on her journeys in the circus. She had peered out the window, watched farms roll by at 65 miles per hour, occasionally found herself face to face with some idiot cow that just quietly stared at her. Moo. Roman pulled away from her just as she was about to say something about approving of his environmental concerns, and instead she found herself staring at him as he took off his shirt. Mmm. He looked so damn good, especially when he emerged from underneath the water, his jeans clinging to his ass. She was pretty sure she'd never get sick of that. When he emerged from the water, Mira was leaning back against a tree close to the shoreline, waiting for him. The frog was shown. The command was given. And she just stood there, staring. Not at the frog, at him. "I...oh! Yeah. Sorry. I..." I like you wet and half-dressed? Miriam, please. He already knew that. She skittered back to the truck, got what she assumed he was talking about--she could put two and two together--and began to wade into the water to meet him halfway. "Frogs?" she finally said. "We're getting frogs?" Now, she'd eaten frog legs before, and they were quite tasty, but she wasn't about to think, when he said they were going to get dinner, that they were going to catch frogs for dinner! Her eyes lit up, and she even reached out to, very gingerly, take the frog from him. "The last time I held a frog, I was maybe six years old." [Roman] Frog legs were delicious, and they were even better when they were fresh. Now. Of course they could have gone and bought a turkey or some turkey breast singles, but where was the fun in that? He was all about showing Mira a whole different world that she'd never seen before. She was his little city girl, and he liked to country her up. Besides, she always seemed to enjoy herself, and this was a way of being multi-culti, wasn't it? Definitely more interesting than the same ol' hum drum thing over and over again. New experiences. New worlds. A wealth of memories for his sweet little fae. "Bullfrogs!" he said rather excitedly when she asked about the frogs. His grin was broad and stupid, but he looked happy as a clam. "Bullfrogs ain't supposed to be in here; this is one of the little Ideal danger (9:32:59 PM): hot spots they're located in. We can help clear 'em out, and I'll make some delicious frog legs for dinner. You'll love 'em. They're so much better homemade." When she reached for the frog, it started to puff up like a balloon. "Hold 'im tight and don't be afraid. They can smell fear." It wasn't afraid of Roman since he was something of a similar creature, but Mira? Oh, it was going to be a mighty loud experience for his Kitten. [Miriam] Multi-culti indeed, and Mira did enjoy being exposed to new things. New York had been a great place to start discovering other cultures and ways of life, but country hadn't really been one of them, you know? She eyed the frog while Roman spoke, and cautiously plucked it from his fingers. "I've had them before. Not homemade, but I've had them at a restaurant." Those dark eyes flicked up to meet his own, and her smile was there again, that sweet little one that was for him and only him. "You're going to spoil me rotten, Roman. Please don't ever stop." And that was a sweet little moment, wasn't it? With the two of them standing in shallow water, Mira dipping her head and tilting it, coming in for a kiss as she took the frog. Only to get one hell of a surprise. The frog began to fucking scream. It made a noise unlike anything that she had ever heard before, and what was there to do but scream right back at it? She held the frog aloft, right to her face, and screeched, then chucked the damn thing in her surprise, hurling it halfway across the pond like she was a softball pitcher. "What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!" she screeched, froggy hands suddenly grabbing for Roman so she could cling to him. It wasn't fear so much as it was surprise, but that adrenaline rush was undeniable. "Are they supposed to do that?! Oh shit, I threw it..." But then again, if they were a problem species, and they clustered here, she doubted there was a shortage of them under the water. "I'll get it!" she insisted. Red wings fluttered, flicked moisture from them, and she was ever so slightly aloft, maybe a couple inches above the water. "Heeeere froggy froggy..." Mira, stop, this is not helping. [Roman] The frog made an angry, high-pitched wheezing sound as its air was released like a slimy balloon in Mira's hands. It screamed. She screamed. And then the bullfrog was chucked across the lake. Roman couldn't stop laughing. Like... Not just a little chuckle. It was a full-on crack-up. He bent forward at the waist laughing, then leaned almost all the way backwards, his hands on his stomach. Hell, he fell into the water, and she'd be able to see bubbles come up from underneath as he continued to laugh. When he managed to compose himself even a little bit, he emerged from the water and held onto her when she clung. "Oh lord," he said through a few dwindling chuckles. "I probably shoulda warned ya. When they get scared, they do that. They scream atcha. Don't worry about that one, we can get more. You can stay around the shoreline so you don't have to swim." ... And then she fluttered away above the lake, and he started laughing again -- this time much more light-hearted. "Or you can do that! Get whatcha can, we'll keep 'em in the livewell, and then I'll cook 'em up for Thanksgivin'dinner tonight." [Miriam] "They scream?!" She said that over her shoulder, and she was clearly struggling with this whole...flying thing. It wasn't like she could soar like a birdie, or like those dragonflies that her wings so resembled. She managed to keep herself aloft, but it was a bobbing, awkward sort of flight. Think bumblebees. And that was probably why she ended up back in shallow water not far from Roman, empty-handed. "What the hell is wrong with nature?" she asked, laughing. "And where did you learn to cook, anyway? You never told me...Frank." Okay. So. She was now in shallow water, maybe waist high. And the faerie carefully bent down at the waist. Ass to him, too, so he could enjoy that to his heart's content. Probably did that on purpose. Keeping her head above the water, she screwed up her face and began to fumble her hands in the mud near her feet. "Oooh! I found something!" And up came her hands. Was there a frog in them? Absolutely not, but she did have a large rock covered in muck. "Ew." The rock was dropped back into the water. How hard could this be? Step one, reach for frog. Step two, put frog in livewell. Step three, have a delicious frog leg dinner and then offer her compliments to the chef in what had to be the best Thanksgiving she'd ever had. And to think, she had thought her first one since her mother's death would be incredibly heartbreaking. And you know, it had been, at first. She'd called her family earlier in the day, and they'd talked about her mom. But then they had moved on, and now here she was. Waist deep in water, ass in the air, waders on her feet, giggles slipping forth from between berry-painted lips while she dug for something more frog-like than a rock. [Roman] Aw, she was like a little bumble bee! How cute was she? Seriously. Roman just adored her awkwardness. She was definitely not one of those girly girl types who was always perfect and showing that off. He loved her imperfections. They were what made her real and not just some vapid pin-up. He watched her when she landed in the water and went a'diggin'. Only to discover a rock. "At least it didn't scream atcha?" he said when she found a rock. Now. Roman didn't know about Mira's mom. That was something she hadn't told him, not yet. Thus far, their conversations hadn't gotten too deep. ... Thus far. "You let me know if you find anythin', Kitten. They're gonna be around the reeds," he said, pointing and gesturing towards the aquatic flora that was near the shore, where it was nice and shallow for his incredible sinking fae. While she was busy trudging around in her waders, Roman was in and out of the water like a silvery fish, almost soundless in the water. Even if she didn't catch any of them, he'd make sure they had plenty of screaming frog balloons to eat for dinner. [Miriam] Thus far indeed. And the conversation was about to happen. Mira was bent down and digging in the reeds, and her hand closed around a frog. This time, she didn't wait for it to start throwing a tantrum and scream. She stuffed it right into the livewell with a disapproving, withering stare, an expression that lightened considerably when she spotted Roman on one of his emergences from the water. "Hey...thanks for taking me out today. It's a good distraction. My family's getting weird." Sorry, Roman, but here it was, the story of Mira's recent family events. "My mom died a few months ago. Cancer. And it's like everything's kinda gone to shit since then, and that's why I didn't bother even trying to go back to New York. The further I am from it, the happier I am. Especially because my dear little...seventeen year old sister..." Wade wade wade. "Just informed me, before telling our father, that she's gotten her stupid ass knocked up." Mira bent once again, scooped up another handful of muck, and made an annoyed sound as she let it drop from her fingers. "Okay, I am clearly nowhere near as good as you are at this." Mira watched Roman's face, curious. It was the first time she'd ever had much to say about her family, or her past, beyond the part about her significant others leaving her and the part about her history with the circus. How would he respond to it?
[Roman] They hadn't had the talks because he didn't want to? It just hadn't come up until this point. He'd found enough frogs to make a decent dinner for the two of them, and that's when she started to talk. Her mother died of cancer? And her sister was knocked up. Oh, jeez. He sort of paused there, standing in the water, not too far from her, and watching as she spoke. Now, Roman wasn't exactly a family man. When you hatch from a soft-shelled egg, you didn't exactly know your relatives. He didn't have the experience to relate to, but he could tell that it was something that bothered her. With the last frog in the livewell, he slowly, wordlessly, made his way through the water and over towards her. Once he got up to her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a warm hug. Well, warm in terms of the feeling between them and not actual temperature. They were both wet and it was barely above freezing outside. He rubbed his hand up and down her back and kissed her temple. "I'm sorry, Kitten." [Miriam] Hey, at least Mira's father and brother seemed to be doing okay? Sort of. Her father was as terse as ever, and she had a feeling he was, as always, hiding his true emotions until they turned into a festering tumor or something. Her brother's grades had dropped briefly, but the last time they spoke, it seemed as though they were improving again. What she hadn't expected was Roman actually coming over and putting his arms around her. Not that she didn't expect sympathy, or that she didn't think he cared about her. She just hadn't been anticipating that level of emotion. And of course she responded to it. She threw her arms around him in return, curled herself into his body, and let down the last of those walls--for at least a moment or two. There were no tears. She'd already cried them all out, months ago. But there was her head against his chest, and every last bit of herself pressed against himself that she could manage without the two of them getting horizontal. "Mmm." What else do you say in a moment like this? Mira had no idea, but she settled on, "...You make it better." Because he did. "It'd be a stupid Thanksgiving back home anyway. I'd never make it through without an entire bottle of Bacardi. Normally I only need half a bottle to make family gatherings tolerable." A series of brief kisses were pressed to his throat, before she leaned back just a tiny bit. "Do we have enough frogs to head out?" she asked. "I'm maybe a little cold. And a little in need of a shower." But she made no move to actually pull away from him. She just stood there in the knee-deep water, and Mira was maybe a little surprised when she realized that she had pressed her face against the side of his neck.
[Roman] With Miriam clinging to him, he simply held her and stroked her hair. He could tell she was more than a little overwhelmed and vulnerable, and he was not about to do anything to make her feel bad about it. To be honest, he was a little honored to be able to make her feel comfortable enough to let down her barriers. He gave a little nod at her question. "We've got plenty of frogs. Let's head out," he said, giving her a little nuzzle and a kiss to her temple. And you know? He wasn't even gonna make her walk. He shifted his body so that he could wrap her arms around her underneath her ass and hoisted her up. "C'mon, Kitten," he said, wading his way out of the pond and to the truck. He set her down on the bed, then went back for the livewell. "I brought extra clothes if you wanna change." Because like hell he was going to get the inside of his truck all dirty. And that meant that Roman was stripping down next to the truck so he could pull a new, dry pair of jeans on as well as a pull-over hoodie. Livewell full of screaming bullfrogs secured, he opened her door so she could get in, then went to his side. Once they were both in and the truck was turned on, he looked sidelong at her. "You gonna be alright, Miriam?"
[Miriam] Wet and clinging, Miriam let out a frustrated little puff of air against Roman's neck, her eyes fluttering closed. This was...this was safety and security, something she hadn't known pretty much since the day she struck out on her own as an independent little performer in the circus. Mira was prepared to start hoofing it back to the truck, but before she had a chance to pull away, there were his arms around her, and she was being picked up and carried like she weighed nothing. Which she probably did. Certainly not much more than nothing. Still, she twined her arms around his neck and let herself be hauled along, with the tiniest of little smiles on her lips. By the time he set her down in the truck's bed, that smile had blossomed into something bright and real and happy, and she had begun to lean her head against his chest. This was it, wasn't it? This was what love felt like? Maybe? It was a terrifying and exhilarating prospect. And then all of her thoughts went summarily out the window when she glanced over and got a good look at Roman changing nearby. "Oh." Hello. The faerie slipped off the truck's bed and landed neatly on her feet, then got to work pulling off her waders. And her romper. Her jacket had stayed in the truck's bed, but now she was standing there in a strapless red bra and matching panties, grabbing for dry clothes and slipping them on. The only bit of mud that really remained on her now was a smear of it underneath her left eye, something she didn't seem to realize was there. Into the truck's cab she went, blowing him a kiss when he opened her door. There was a moment of silence. A moment of her just looking straight ahead and thinking. Was she going to be okay? "Yeah," she murmured. "I'm going to be fine. I think it's in no small part to you, honestly..." I'm falling in love with you. She bit back the words.
[Roman] He knew she could hoof it back on her own. She was fully capable. But that didn't mean that she had to. Of course she was independent and strong, but that didn't mean she couldn't be pampered once in a while. And besides. For all of Roman's character flaws, he was rather gentlemanly. For the most part, anyway. He liked the feel of her curled against him, and it made him smile to himself while he carried her. While he was changing, he did look over his shoulder and grin at her when he heard her quiet interjection. A quick wink was shot her way before they got in the truck. It wasn't until she looked his way again to answer that he noticed the mud on her face as well. "I do what I can," he said rather humbly, bringing a hand to her face to cup her cheek and use the pad of his thumb to brush the smear of mud off her face. "You got a little somthin'," he explained. The mud was wiped on his jeans, and he took drove them back home. It was a relatively quiet ride, since nobody wants to actually play a car-ride home. But it didn't take too long, and he kept his free hand on her knee as they drove, a nonverbal way of reassuring her that he was there. It was going to be his flat that they went back to, since he figured that there were more kitchen tools there than her room at Turner Hall. Once parked, he leaned over, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and opened the door. "Let's eat, Kitten."
[Miriam] The car ride was indeed an uneventful affair, save for the way that the faerie leaned into his touch, the way she closed her eyes and smiled, the way she laughed at his hand wiping away whatever pond-related muck was still lingering on her cheek. It was only once the door slid open and they had arrived at his flat that she spoke again, and that was because something buzzed in the pocket of her little bomber jacket. As she skittered alongside Roman's much longer strides, she frowned down at her phone. "So Rachel broke the bad news to Dad and he apparently is in serious meltdown mode. My brother says Thanksgiving is...well, I wouldn't say ruined, but it's definitely on hold." There was a pause. "Oh, yeah. I have two siblings. A brother and a sister, both younger. That's it. No more. I guess there's a lot of things I've never told you about." Because they had never come up. They had been so mundane. Did a well-traveled, long-living career criminal like Roman Kerrs really want to hear about Mira growing up in New York and her rather dull family? Nah, she doubted it, and she didn't blame him for a second. She hooked her arm through Roman's, those dark-dark eyes peeking up at him almost coyly, through her lashes. "Well, I'm ready for the best Thanksgiving ever. Are you going to seduce me while you cook, or are you just going to let your apparently impressive kitchen skills speak for themselves? Her head tilted. "So where did you learn to cook, anyway?" And can you teach me? Because I'm terrible.
[Roman] There was the text that Mira had been waiting for. He'd let her know what was going on, and it had been an awful long wait for it. When she let him know how it had gone down, he winced and cringed. "That's unfortunate. I didn't know you had a brother," he said. Now, it wasn't that he didn't care -- because he did! -- it was that family wasn't the first thing to come to his mind when asking somebody about themselves. He didn't exactly have his own family and couldn't relate to the whole... relatives. Thing. The livewell was snagged from the truck bed and he walked her to the door of his flat. "What else haven't you told me about? Are you a secret agent?" he asked with a smirk. He unlocked the door, opened it, and gestured her inside. "Ladies first," he said. "You know, I'm not sure where I learned to cook. I just kinda did. I didn't have someone to cook for me. Gotta find food once you hatch, yanno. But I couldn't take human form until I was older. Adolescence. Just had to kinda learn. I definitely wouldn't call them awesome cooking skills." The livewell was set down in the kitchen, and he turned to her with another smirk. "I just might seduce you. I haven't decided yet." He plucked her up and set her on the counter so that he could worm his way between her knees and lean in for a kiss.
[Miriam] "He's twenty, in college. A good kid. I think you might like him." And that was the first time that the thought of introducing Roman to her family at some point ever crossed her mind. Mira was quick to change the subject, and she stepped inside first, divesting herself of her bomber jacket and taking a second look around. Or third. How many times had she been here before? It was surely nicer than her room in Turner Hall, and it was making her think about moving out of the dorms, but in truth, she didn't have the money for something like that. Or well, she did, but she wasn't sure she wanted to spend her inheritance so soon. "Okay, you're talking shit about your cooking, but you made me breakfast once, and that was pretty good. And now you're going to cook me frog legs. I can make exactly two things, and they're hard boiled eggs and ramen. I could probably do boxed macaroni and cheese, if you were sure to leave me some very clear directions..." She had followed him into the kitchen, only to be scooped up and parked down on the counter, with the naga suddenly between her legs. Which, to be fair, was one of her favorite places to have him. Her arms draped over his shoulders. "I'm not a secret agent, no. But I did..." Well, you know, maybe it was time to just confess her darkest secret to him. She knew who he really was, after all. Maybe it was time that he knew, too. "I killed somebody once," she admitted, without much concern for anything more than his reaction to the knowledge. "I was...I was really upset, and there was this girl, and I just sort of took it out on her. And I took her bracelet after she died. It was pretty. Do you think I should fence it? I'm a little worried about wearing it out in public, just in case it's recognized."
[Roman] He had to laugh a little bit at her defense of his cooking. "I made a decent omelette once, and what? Now I'm Julia Child?" he said with a broad, stupid grin. While she dissed on her own cooking, her slid his hands up the tops of her thighs, then let them drift to the side about the swell of her hips and ass. Where he let them stay. But hey, she had a confession, did she? And it was one that made him pause for a moment. That wasn't what he was expecting, but hey? Who was he to judge? He'd done his own share of illegal things. Granted, none of it involved taking a life, but it wasn't like he wouldn't have if it had come down to it. He pulled her closer by scooting her to the edge of the counter and directly against him. "Was it a mass-produced bracelet or something unique? If it's a one-of-a-kind, then fencing it is probably a good idea. If it's something you can get anywhere, then you're fine." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You know, I didn't expect that out of you. You're so pint-sized and adorable. Apparently Kitten has claws," he said with a smirk. And he couldn't help but to punctuate that with a little grab of her ass with his fingertips. Claws?
[Miriam] "It might be one of a kind." And Mira deflated. Not because Roman was there in her arms, oh no. She was quite happy with that development, and she toyed with the back of his hair with one hand while they spoke. It was because she was disappointed about having to get rid of her prize, and she huffed in annoyance. Annoyance that didn't last. "I was mad," she explained. "Very mad. I was wronged, like doubtlessly wronged. So I was having sex with somebody. Another girl. And then she seriously just got up in the middle of it, and she said she had to go to her guy. So I was just...okay, the claws came out, and I was walking along the Thames, and this girl sort of looked like her, so I took out all my anger." Claws? Oh yes, she had claws. Literal ones, in fact, cold hard ones that were gently tapping against the back of his neck. "I do," she murmured. "I'm fae. It's not pretty, you know. I guess there's some alternate form that I have, and it's got sharp claws and sharp teeth and bloodlust." Those dark eyes lowered slightly, and she sighed. "Just as long as you don't think I'm a monster or something. I didn't like it. Not in retrospect." Oh. Hello. Ass-grab. Mira squirmed, scooted closer to him so she was perched on the very edge of the counter--and so she was pressed up against him, so he was nestled in the V between her thighs. "So can those froggies wait a little while longer, Roman?" she whispered. "Or are you going to make me wait?"
[Roman] ...Oo... Those nails on the back of his neck. Alright, so he couldn't help but shiver a little bit at that. Mmm. She was starting to make him a little bit dizzy, and he just didn't care. She was pressed up against him, and he damn near forgot why they were having this conversation in the first place. "She's a complete idiot," he said, leaning in to murmur that against the hollow of her throat. "Leaving sex with you is never an option," he said. That was definitely not a thing he'd ever want to do. Leaving Mira for someone else, mid-coitus?! What kind of brain-dead moron was this girl? Now, Roman was on the same wavelength as her. The blood had rushed from his brain to a region down south, and to be quite honest, he strained against his jeans. That was a drawback to wearing fitted jeans... "Frogs can wait," he said, his voice a little gravely as he growled into the hollow of her throat. "Not a monster..." Apparently sentences more than three words weren't happening, but he was picking her up off the counter and adjusting the height at which she was held so that she was nestled right up against his bulge. You know. They weren't even going to make it to the bedroom. Just outside the kitchen, he made it to the bedroom door, but she just ended up pressed against the door, his mouth hungrily seeking hers. Frog legs can definitely wait...
[Miriam] Leaving sex with you is never an option. Those words effected her in a few different ways, but the only one she'd let him know about right now was the little shiver that slid down her back and landed between her legs. The jolt she felt in her heart was something she would keep to herself, for the time being. There was no sense in regaling him with all the details about Alice Clare and who she had left her for and where her hands and her mouth had been a few moments beforehand, though she had a feeling Roman wouldn't mind hearing about that last part. The little growl in his throat, the bulge in his jeans, Mira knew she had him, though for once she was pretty sure she had already had him. It was the latest in a series of alarming revelations tonight. "Let's go." Like she anticipated they were going to make it to the bedroom? Hell no. She was surprised that they made it as far as they did, honestly. Pinned between the warmth of his body and the cool wood of the door, she responded to his kiss with a sort of fire that she hadn't been aware actually existed within her. Nor was she wasting any time, either. Her hands lowered to his jeans, and she undid his belt buckle. It took a few moments. Her fingers were shaking too badly to be effective. "Hurry." It was a breathless gasp against his mouth, the little faerie trying to undress him and press herself close to him at the same time. "Right here. Door's fine." Mira Roth was not too proud to be fucked against a door. Or any item, really. She had been prepared to go at it on the floor of the kitchen or be bent over the counter or something.
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Carley
VT:L Adventure Guide
Posts: 146
writes for: Alexander "Alex" Kearny (amoribundusher)
writes for: Tucker North (hesitantlyyours)
writes for: Hyacinth "Cinthie" Griswold (kerosenebridges)
writes for: Chelsea "Mackie" McIntyre (ficklefauna)
writes for: Miriam "Mira" Roth (ignafatua)
writes for: Ryan Malone (quicksilverwit)
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Post by Carley on Dec 14, 2015 8:27:16 GMT -8
CAST: Miriam Roth (ignafatua@aol.com), Roman Kerrs (idealdanger@aol.com) SUMMARY: It's Hanukkah, and Miriam tries to make latkes at Roman's place. Gifts are exchanged, and Mira blurts out the l-word that isn't lesbians.
TW: Sexual situations at the end.
[Miriam] The first night of Hannukah fell on a Sunday this year. It wasn't the first that Mira had spent without her family, but it was the first one that she had spent in London. And while she wasn't much of a religious type--she never had been, to be honest--she did like to keep the traditions alive. Even better, this year, she had somebody to celebrate with. Lots of somebodies, actually, but doing something for the rest of her quad and her odd bunch of friends--Will, Ash, Tucker, Freya, Alice Clare--was going to have to wait until later in the week. Good thing there were eight days in the holiday, because night one was going to be spent with Roman. She had arranged it with him earlier in the week. He'd pick her up in the evening, she'd make dinner at his place. And when he arrived with his ludicrous truck--or whatever vehicle he had stolen tonight--she was waiting on a bench outside Turner Hall, booted feet digging in the snow to toe at the dead grass and the frozen ground below. That snow was still falling, actually, dusting the ground around her and landing, frosted, on her dark hair. Sitting beside her on the bench, underneath a blanket, was what appeared to be some sort of enormous tote bag. Hands, in a pair of fingerless purple gloves, were clutching her phone as she sent texts. Happy Hanukkah, Dad and Michael and Rachel. I'll be sending presents soon. The faerie herself was bundled up in her red peacoat, with a black scarf tucked about her neck, but as always, it was more for fashion than anything else that she dressed for the weather. She could have thrown off her coat and done a barrel roll in the snow and it wouldn't have made a difference to her core temperature.
[Roman] The last week or two had been kinda busy for Roman. While he worked for the Sterlings, he was also more of a free agent. The Sterlings were just one of his employers. ... For a given value of the word 'employer.' They were a source of income, and a pretty good one at that. But either way, Roman had something for Mira, and he had had it for more than a week. It was going to have to wait until Hanukkah, so he figured that would be a good time to give it to her. He would have other Hanukkah gifts for her, but this one he really wanted to make sure she got. Now, it was more than a little frightening that Mira was going to cook dinner, but he was ready for the danger that was to come. It wasn't long that Mira had to wait outside. He didn't want her to stay out in the snow for too long, even though he had noticed that she never really did get cold. Roman didn't like to be out in the cold, either, so the truck was rather nice and warm -- heated seats! The big truck pulled up outside of Turner Hall, and he pulled up right in front of her. He leaned across the seat and opened the door for her, and his winning grin greeted her from the inside of the truck. "Happy Hanukkah, Kitten. I missed ya." He'd kept in touch with her, of course, but he'd only seen her once or twice over the last two weeks, and it had been a few days since he'd last seen her.
[Miriam] The second the truck came into view, Mira was up on her feet, her phone tucked into her back pocket and her covered-up bag snatched up into her arms. It seemed to be heavy, actually, because it required a bit of strain to lug it in. But once she was settled into the cab of the truck with the tote bag at her feet and the door closed behind her, she leaned in to wrap her arms around Roman's neck and grace him with a kiss to his mouth. "I've missed you too. So much. You ready to risk life and limb by letting me cook at your place?" It was a joke, right? Of course it was. She was probably not going to blow up the block. It took a few moments for her to let go of his neck so he could actually drive the damn truck, and when she did so, her hands slid away slowly like she was reluctant to leave contact. When was the last time they had really spent time together? Thanksgiving, right? Frog legs and wild sex against the bedroom door. And while Mira had plenty to keep herself busy during the weeks that had passed, like studying for her final exams and memorizing her lines just in case she had to do the understudy thing, her mind had wandered back to Roman more often than she maybe might have liked. "And I got you something, too. I know you don't celebrate, but I mean, the holiday is about exchanging gifts. And eating fried food." Mmm, fried food. She had so much of it ready to either make or feed him. For now, though, she brushed the last of the snow out of her hair. "So how have you been? Done anything interesting? Stolen any good cars lately?"
[Roman] The last time they'd been able to spend some quality time together had been Thanksgiving, but he'd been able to have lunch with her twice since then. It just happened to be good timing with her finals. The holiday time was always busy when you liberated various items from their previous owners. Everybody's homes and businesses were always filled with expensive, sought-after items. Roman had been a busy, busy man. He pulled her close when she got in the truck and held her tightly. Each kiss was returned, and he held her against him, burying his face in her hair. He missed her. He missed her smell. His pillowcase had stopped smelling like her a week ago, and it'd been difficult to sleep after that. "Lotsa fun things, Kitten. No cars, though; too much surveillance this timea year. I got you somethin'good, though. And I got you somethin' else. I've been meanin'to give it to ya since last Friday, but I ain't had the chance ta. So you get two things tonight, you lucky girl, you," he said with a smirk. Another kiss was pressed to her temple as he started to drive to his flat. "You didn't have to get me anythin'," he said. "But I do like surprises, and I do like to live dangerously, which is exactly why I'm givin'you the chance to burn down my kitchen." Another grin. The drive wasn't too long, and Carley could take them into the flat because Kat was getting hangry and was going to make something to eat.
[Miriam] "Aw, what, you didn't steal me a Ferrari? I'm disappointed..." No, she wasn't. Mira didn't even know how to drive. The drive back to his flat was full of...touches. Gentle ones. Her hand on his knee, that sort of thing, as though she just didn't want to break bodily contact. There was nothing like an extended period of time away to remind you how much you missed somebody, and those brief lunches had been band-aids over a wound, not an actual healing. "You got me two things?" Those dark, dark eyes shifted up to Roman's face, then back to the road ahead, unconcerned about the falling snow. Well, save for one thing. "The snow's getting thick," she murmured. "I do hope you don't mind if I end up having to stay at your place overnight due to road conditions." Yeah, that was laced in good-natured sarcasm. Like hell would he mind, and she knew it! Again those words lodged on the tip of her tongue, those three words that she was in no way ready to utter, but that she knew were going to slip out soon anyway. Once they arrived at the flat, she let him lead her inside and unlock the door and the whole nine yards. Mira shed her coat, set it somewhere out of the way, and strolled to the kitchen in a dark blue tank top and a pair of jeans, boots also removed so she didn't track in the snow. The tote bag was dragged along with her, and she smiled knowingly over her shoulder at Roman. "Want to watch me work?" she inquired--complete with a shake of her ass in his direction.
[Roman] Oh yes. He had gotten her two things. Though... They were connected in a way. He wouldn't tell her that, though. He'd just confuse the hell out of her when she opened her Hanukkah gift first and got her other 'just because' gift afterwards. "Well, really, one of your gifts is just because I wanted to. No reason, really, other than the fact that I wanted to get you something." Aw, what a sweet boyfriend. "You know that this truck could drive over a snowbank in Russia," he said with a smirk and a sidelong glance. "Even if the weather got bad, I could get you home." Pause.. Pause, pause... "But I don't wanna. You're stayin' even if it melts and heats up to seventy." Was she thinking that he didn't want her to stay!? Silly Miriam. Anyway, once they were in the flat, he took her jacket for her and hung it up, then toed off his boots. "I always want to watch you work. Though should I watch with a sense of appreciation and a fire extinguisher?" he joked, placing a hand at the small of her back and leading her into the kitchen. "What can I do to help?"
[Miriam] Out came items from the tote bag, one by one. Potatoes, an onion, half a carton of eggs. "Well," she began, looking him over and seeming to lose her train of thought entirely. He was so beautiful, he really was. At first, she had thought that he was kinda cute, but it was funny how emotions could change over a period of time, after you discovered things you really, really liked about somebody. "Well." Try that again, Mira. "You could start by chopping up this onion, how about that? I'll grate the potatoes. And you can get me a few items that I know you have around here. A large skillet, some salt and pepper, and some oil to fry up the latkes. Oh, and a bowl. I'll need a bowl, a big one, to mix stuff in." The onion was pitched to him with an underhand softball throw, and hopefully he was prepared to catch it. Out came a few more things, too. A box of...were those donuts? "Traditional Hanukkah dessert is jelly donuts, but feel free to have one now..." There were still items in the tote bag, but whatever they were, she wasn't ready to give them to him yet. "And then, if you want, you can give me your presents, and I can give you mine." Because curiosity was going to eat at the faerie. She was dying to know what he had found that was so amazing that he had been waiting to give it to her for an entire week! Before she turned to start washing and grating the potatoes, she threw her arms around Roman's neck again, and kissed him properly. Long, slow, lingering, her body presed to his. It had been entirely too long, and she didn't want to admit how much she had missed him. So those steps away, once the kiss ended, were backwards, and slow, and came with a slow withdrawing of her touch.
[Roman] HE was beautiful? Oh no, no. She was beautiful. She was gorgeous. Stunning. Every little inch of her was intriguing. Colorful. Intoxicating. He was just some schmuck that had gills when he got wet. Either way, this schmuck was going to cut an onion to help his beautiful, cooking-inept girlfriend make some sort of Jewish hashbrowns. He caught the onion and set it on the counter so he could pull out a cutting board and a knife. "Donuts are good," he said, starting to dice the onion. He was a big man, though, so it didn't make him cry! MACHO, YOU KNOW. Ahem. The onion was ignored for a moment, though, because there was delicious Miriam coming in for a real kiss. One that had him leaning in and getting lost in it. She tasted so good. She felt so amazing. His hands were on her hips, and he pulled her in close until she pulled away. "You're better than a jelly donut," he said with a grin. "And you can have your gifts whenever you want. I have 'em with me," he said. Yes. He had them in his pockets because they were small and he didn't need to wrap all of them. ... Couldn't really wrap all of them.
[Miriam] Jewish hashbrowns, yes. Exactly. Mira was rinsing the potatoes now, three of them, and she rummaged through drawers until she found the grater and a bowl. Cue the peeling and grating process. There was something endearing about the way that she peeled and grated, too. Slow, unsure of herself. Mira looked as though she had no idea what she was doing, and she had her phone out on the counter to read the recipe. "Well, why don't we do the gifts now?" she suggested, wiping her hands off on the nearest towel or paper towel, or even her jeans if need be--whatever was convenient. "I don't do curiosity well. It's going to eat me up until I find out what you got for me, and whether you like what I got for you." She pulled the final two items out of her tote bag. Two boxes, both wrapped in shiny silver paper. Neither was particularly large, but one was considerably larger than the other. Both of the boxes were brought over to Roman, and she held them out with a big smile. "You go first. And you have to open the big one first." Because the smaller one was something that she wasn't too sure how he'd react to. It was...a gesture. The contents of the first box was...a flask. It was leather and silver--not steel like the description on the Etsy link said, thanks--and engraged with a Hemingway quote. Those dark eyes of hers focused on the floor, then peeked up through long, dark lashes. "I'm terrible at getting gifts for guys," she admitted, her mouth curled into a tiny smile that emphasized the berry color she had applied to them.
[Roman] He managed to finish the onion right when she decided that they needed to stop right in the middle of prep cooking to exchange gifts. That made him laugh softly because really, it was a very Mira thing to do. He knew that she was a fae, and that she liked pretty things and got distracted a lot. It was like she had ADHD, but at least it was always interesting around her? He washed his onion hands in the sink, dried them on a towel, and then took one of the boxes from her. "Me first, huh?" he asked, and he carefully unwrapped the silver paper. Shiny. When he saw the flask, he grinned. The quote was right on par, and he really did like the contrast of the leather against the silver. It was right up his alley. "Thanks, Kitten. It's great." And it would totally fit in his back pocket, y'all. He leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. "Do you want me to open the other one or should I give you one of yours now?"
[Miriam] Yeah, well...they didn't need to prep the food immediately, did they? Okay, so the potato that she had already grated was going to oxidize and turn purple, but whatever. They could have purple potato pancakes. Mira did like purple. The knowledge that Roman had something for her was just eating her up inside, and she wanted to see his reaction to the presents that she had bought him. She popped up onto her toes when she saw him coming in for a kiss, and a little giggle slid past her throat, certainly a noise that she didn't make for just anyone. "Okay, give me one of mine next," she suggested. "And I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry you have to get shitfaced to tolerate stupid people." But sometimes Mira did too. Why do you think family gatherings were such a damn drag for her sometimes? And this post was short because Carley had to wait for Kat to reveal the present.
[Roman] He was totally going to confuse the hell outta her, and he was definitely looking forward to it. The empty flask was tucked into his back pocket and he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear when she leaned in up on her tippy toes. "Okay, I'll give you your Hanukkah gift first, alright?" he said, doing everything he could to try to hide his stupid grin of absolute mischief. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her gift, though it seemed like he hadn't pulled out anything. Just his hand, balled up in a fist. "Alright, it's not wrapped, so you just gotta hold out your hand and close your eyes, yeah?" When she presumably did so, he checked to make sure her eyes were closed by waving a hand in front of her face. When she didn't flinch or laugh, he knew she actually had them closed.
[Miriam] "Fuck's sake, Roman, if you're giving me your dick..."
[Roman] "That's for after dinner," he said. Into her upturned palm, he placed something. ... Something very small. She hardly noticed that there was anything there, but it was. "Open," he said. And there in a little tiny heap in her hand was... A tiny Star of David? Like. Really tiny. Silver. And attached to a silver loop with a tiny zirconia upon the loop. A ... charm of some sort?
[Miriam] "Good, I want your dick after dinner. But I was going to be pretty disappointed if you gave it to me without a box after hyping it up as a present." Alright, alright, so she couldn't resist glancing downwards, in the general direction of his dick, remembering...oh, man, she had gone without sex this whole time! Now that had been kinda rough on her, and in the past she probably would have gone out and gotten some strange to tide her over, or at the very least asked Saint or Freya or even Tucker if they had a little time to spare for her. But nobody did it for her anymore, nobody did it for her the way Roman did. She hadn't tried to get any from anyone, but she knew that it wasn't even worth a try. When she was instructed to close her eyes, she did so, and Mira held her hands out and waited to feel the weight of something in her palms, and to hear the command from him. She opened her eyes, peered down, and blinked. "Oh! It's pretty..." But it looked as though it belonged on some sort of bracelet. Some sort of bracelet that she didn't actually have. Which was why she offered him an expression that was both pleased and highly confused. "I'll have to get something to put it on..." The charm was slid into her pocket for safekeeping, and she offered Roman the smaller package. "Here. Do your other one next. I...it's maybe kinda...mushy." There was a small box within, and she watched nervously as he opened up to show off the silver keychain within. A fishhook charm hung from the engraved part which read, simply, 'you caught me.' This time, Mira didn't meet his gaze. She looked at the floor. Nice tile job in the kitchen.
[Roman] Oh, her look of confusion was just great. He wasn't going to say anything. Not yet. She'd understand when she got her 'just because gift.' "Yep, it'll go great on some kinda bracelet," he said, offhandedly, like he hadn't thought about the fact that she didn't have a bracelet because she had to get rid of the one she had stolen in order to avoid suspicion. He took the little box from Mira and opened it just as carefully as he had the other one. When he opened the box and saw the key chain, it made him smile. A soft little smile that she didn't even get to see. He didn't say anything yet, just set it down on the counter, gently reached out to touch her face, his fingers delving into her hair as he tilted her head up so that she had to look at him. And he was still smiling, sweet and warm. "Hook, line, and sinker," he said, then leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss. It lasted for a long while, before he broke it with a little nuzzle to her nose. "You ready for your 'just because' gift you should have gotten last week but I got busy?"
[Miriam] Too bad Mira had to get rid of the pretty bracelet she'd stolen from her kill, because it really would look cute on there. Oh well. She'd go buy herself a new bracelet to show off. Or she could get a necklace for it instead! It had been a long time since she'd worn an emblem of her faith, and she was pretty sure it would be in her best interests not to wear it on campus--not when she knew Tucker or Freya were going to be around. But she loved it. She loved it partially because it was pretty and partially because he had given it to her. When she looked up, she was looking right into his eyes, and the tiny little thing seemed to...not so much shrink, no, but she certainly seemed smaller than she usually was. It took a lot to smack all the bravado out of the fae, but emotions...those were the quickest way to do it. The kiss, at least, brought her back out of her shell, and by the time it was over, she had stepped close to seal off the space between them and twined her arms around his neck. She whimpered when he pulled away, but nodded in agreement, her voice soft. "Yeah. I'm ready. I...don't think I've really gotten a just because gift before, certainly not any time recently."
[Roman] Though Mira was a tiny little thing, she had a big presence. Right now, though? Right now, so unsure of herself, she was tiny and vulnerable, and he didn't want her to feel like she couldn't do this sort of thing. He didn't want to make her feel bad for feeling. That was just mean. But okay, it was time for her other present, and he actually had to leave her there in the kitchen for a moment. "Stay right there," he said. He made his way over to where he'd hung up his jacket, and he pulled out a small box from the inside pocket. "Now," he started as he made his way back to her. "I coulda wrapped it, but I'm not very good at wrappin', so..." He handed it on over to her. It was a white, square box with the word 'PANDORA' emblazoned across the top. "You had to get rid'a your bracelet, and you needed somethin' else," he said by way of explanation. When she opened it she'd see a sterling silver bangle bracelet with a spherical clasp with a tiny bow on it. There were three charms on it already. One sterling silver kitty, one zirconia-encrusted snake, and between the two, a little silver bead with a lattice design.
[Miriam] Unsure of herself was a massive understatement. Vulnerability did not come easy to her, but here she was, presenting something that she had chosen for him, something that left her open and vulnerable by choice. When instructed to stay where she was, she did, and those dark eyes widened with growing uncertainty and surprise when she saw what was written on the box that he presented her with. "Roman..." She squeaked out his name, took the box with a surprisingly steady hand, and observed its contents with a slack jaw. A slack jaw that turned into a smile. The bracelet was slipped onto her wrist, though not before she applied the new Star of David charm, and then her arms were around him again. This time was different, however. She buried her face against his chest and hid it there as though she couldn't bear for him to see her like this, in such a state of overwhelming emotion. Keep it to yourself, Mira, he'll never know. Until she looked up at him, and he did know. He knew because she said it, softly, as she lifted her head up again so she could look him in the eye. It was supposed to be thank you, it really was, until it came out as "I love you," the softest little whisper of it. And then louder, so he could really hear her say it, with conviction. "I love you." And I'm not scared. Or at least that was what her voice said. Her frightened eyes said something else entirely.
[Roman] "Paid for and legit," he said when she had squeaked out his name. Hey, she had to know that it wasn't going to get taken away! And this way? He could just get her little charms here and there. It was personalized! The kitten was her, obviously, and the snake... Well, that was self-explanatory. Now, the little bead in the middle, he knew, meant affection. He wasn't going to tell her, but if she looked it up on the site, she'd see it. And he wouldn't deny it. He helped her put the bracelet on her wrist and admired it on her. It looked so nice! And it made him happy that she was happy. He intercepted her hug, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. Another kiss was pressed atop her head, and he took another long, slow inhale so he could smell her hair. It made him shiver, and something sort of did weird things in his chest, but damned if he could really put a name to it. And then... Then she did. First a tiny whisper, and then once again with... Just enough certainty. He kept her gaze and his smile softened when she looked at him. She was scared, and he could tell. But it wasn't a bad thing. "I'm glad," he said, leaning in to press soft kisses to her face. Her cheeks, her nose, her eyes. "Miriam, I don't know what love is. It's not something that I've ever... Experienced before. Not family or... Or anything like that. It's not... Not something reptiles are raised with. But I... I feel somethin'for ya, Kitten... I don't know what it is... But when I figure it out, you'll be the first one to know... Because I ain't goin'nowhere; you're stuck with me, Princess."
[Miriam] Oh, she would look it up when she got home, or later tonight when he was asleep, or something. And she would see that it meant affection. And that would probably be when the tears actually came. Mira fucking hated crying, it made her face all red and puffy and her breath all hitched and she made the absolute worst noises. But sometimes the situation just called for it, and tears of joy were something she was pretty unusued to. Her arms were curled around him tighter now, and she clearly refused to let go, but she accepted the kisses, and returned them eagerly. Until he spoke. Something died in her eyes, first, like some sort of hope had been put out. No, no, no, it was going to happen again! He was going to leave her! She squeezed a bit tighter while he continued, and her posture relaxed. Sorry, Roman, that fear of abandonment wasn't going away anytime soon. But she leaned her head against his chest, and gave a little smile. "No, I understand. You don't...you don't know what any of this is like. And honestly, I don't either. I haven't had luck in love. But I want to...I don't know. Just stay with me and we'll figure it out. Being stuck with you is the best sort of stuck I could ever imagine being." She nudged her nose against his, kissed him soft and slow. Her hands even drifted down to his belt, though she simply stuck her fingers through the loops and held on to him that way. There were no moves made to strip him, not yet. Though she wanted to. She didn't want him to throw her against the door or tackle her onto the floor, though. She wanted something slow and sweet in his bed...and she would claim it. Later. Not now. "I promised you dinner," she whispered against his mouth.
[Roman] Oh, no, Mira. Mira, don't look sad. ... No, no. He didn't want that. He didn't. He just didn't want to tell her something if he wasn't sure of it. And not knowing what love feels like? He wasn't sure how it was supposed to feel or anything like that. It was all brand new for him, but damned if he didn't feel something for her. She asked him to stay with her, and he actually looked a little taken aback by that. "...Of course I'm going to stay with you," he said. "Mira, I don't want anybody else, okay? I just want you. And I want you to help me figure it out." When she started to tug a little bit on his belt loops, he pulled her in closer and blood... Started to divert. Just a tad... Especially with her mouth against his, and she was murmuring against it. "You did..." he started. "...You did, but I'm suddenly not too hungry..." His voice was low and soft, but with a bit of a hungered growl to it. Okay, so maybe he was hungry, but it definitely wasn't for Jewish hashbrowns. "Shall we keep cooking...? Or should we try to figure it out over there?" he asked, gesturing to the bedroom with his head, his hands taking their place on her hips and sliiiiiding back to cup her rear.
[Miriam] Oh, hello. It was always good to know that she had that effect on him. Granted, she had gotten past the part where she thought she had to entertain sexually to keep people interested in her. She no longer thought she wouldn't be able to keep Roman if she wasn't some sort of freak in bed, and had moved on to, frankly, being a freak in bed because it was fun. Yeah, Mira was the slap-my-ass-and-pull-my-hair sort of girl. But she didn't think he would leave her if she didn't keep constantly upping the ante to just beyond her comfort level. "Oh?" she murmured, oh so aware of the change in blood flow and the change in the tone of his voice. "You're not hungry? I am. What are you going to feed me, Roman?" But she wasted no time in waiting for him to figure it out. Her hands slid from his hips to his hand, so she could lead him back towards the bedroom, and only once they were there did she return to his embrace. "If you don't know how to say what you're feeling in words," she began, her voice as low and as hungry as his own, "why don't you try showing me?" Not that he really got a chance to argue. How could he? Not with Mira leaning in and nibbling at his throat, sighing out against his skin. Love suited her. She knew it did. She hated that it did.
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