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deercountry2023-03-08 01:10 pm
reddosmod) wrote in deercountry2023-03-08 01:10 pm
The House Always Wins
MARCH 2023 EVENT
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING
THE LEECH
HIGH STAKES
CODING
Due to the UNIQUE NATURE of the Moss King, previous March events are NOT available during this month's event. Please keep that in mind.
IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Fanged, smiling carnivorous plant from little shop of horrors ]
[Image Two: House overgrown by roots.]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Person covered in glistening film that seems to be suffocating.]
[Image Two: Woman's face splattered in blood. ]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Poker chip with an anime girl's face on it. ]
[Image Two: Dogs Gambling Painting, but it's famous horror monster villains instead of dogs. ]
Prompt One
[Image One: Fanged, smiling carnivorous plant from little shop of horrors ]
[Image Two: House overgrown by roots.]
Prompt Two
[Image One: Person covered in glistening film that seems to be suffocating.]
[Image Two: Woman's face splattered in blood. ]
Prompt Three
[Image One: Poker chip with an anime girl's face on it. ]
[Image Two: Dogs Gambling Painting, but it's famous horror monster villains instead of dogs. ]
WHEN: March 8-31
WHERE: The City of Trench and surrounding regions
CONTENT WARNINGS: Plant-Based Peril, Isolation, Entrapment, Carnivorous Plants, possible but unlikely death.
WHERE: The City of Trench and surrounding regions
CONTENT WARNINGS: Plant-Based Peril, Isolation, Entrapment, Carnivorous Plants, possible but unlikely death.
The plentiful and bountiful harvest of plants that started to blossom towards the beginning of the month has continued, and if anything? It's getting more and more troublesome. The old saying goes that too much of a good thing is too much, and this is definitely the proof of that pudding. Plants are literally growing everywhere. Trenchies can be seen cutting branches out of impossible locations, and vegetation is beginning to grow inside of established businesses and homes. There is an ever increasing market for vileblood based defoliation options that are being offered by entrepreneurial Trenchies, but the fact that more than a few of those selling the stuff have gone missing under strange circumstances calls into question their efficacy.
For Sleepers, this means that the possibility of encountering enlarged and potentially dangerous plants such as those seen in the earliest parts of the months grows ever more real. A human-sized venus flytrap might very well try to snatch one up, with all of the peril that entails. However, while it is possible for any exotic plant to carry with it potentially lethal threat, most of these are able to be dealt with by even the untrained with a machete. The real problem is the root systems and the plants that ones that talk. The former are the most likely to be encountered. Root systems grow over entire buildings during the mid to late month, choking over light sources and blocking windows to dim houses. They clench their grip over doors, making getting out of one's house an act of willpower and muscle that may have to be repeaated over and over again. Worst of all is the fact that many of these root systems almost seem to be intentionally creating barriers around the Lantern Network! The little moaners are safe, but their sphere of protection becomes a dome of wood, shielding and keeping them away from those naughty sleepers trying to hack their way to a teleport.
The talking ones, though, are downright disturbing. They're not very large, at first they do indeed seem to whisper and beg to be fed. Naturally, only blood will do, and the longer that they're fed the larger and more dangerous that they can become. But, so long as one doesn't feed them, they're harmless, right? Wrong. True, they can bite and it's easy enough to avoid them. However, it's what they start to say when they're denied their food that becomes disturbing. “There is a consequence of your actions, you know.” “Do not think that you are immune.” “Saving the Moss Brat seems wise now, but have a long memory.” Things like that. The voices they take on are eerie, unnatural and do not match the plants' normal begging voices. They never clear up who is speaking or what they're speaking about, but surely it's not a big issue, right?
By the end of the month, the plants wither away and break off of the various homes and businesses, leaving no visible damage behind, as if whatever caused them has faded entirely.
For Sleepers, this means that the possibility of encountering enlarged and potentially dangerous plants such as those seen in the earliest parts of the months grows ever more real. A human-sized venus flytrap might very well try to snatch one up, with all of the peril that entails. However, while it is possible for any exotic plant to carry with it potentially lethal threat, most of these are able to be dealt with by even the untrained with a machete. The real problem is the root systems and the plants that ones that talk. The former are the most likely to be encountered. Root systems grow over entire buildings during the mid to late month, choking over light sources and blocking windows to dim houses. They clench their grip over doors, making getting out of one's house an act of willpower and muscle that may have to be repeaated over and over again. Worst of all is the fact that many of these root systems almost seem to be intentionally creating barriers around the Lantern Network! The little moaners are safe, but their sphere of protection becomes a dome of wood, shielding and keeping them away from those naughty sleepers trying to hack their way to a teleport.
The talking ones, though, are downright disturbing. They're not very large, at first they do indeed seem to whisper and beg to be fed. Naturally, only blood will do, and the longer that they're fed the larger and more dangerous that they can become. But, so long as one doesn't feed them, they're harmless, right? Wrong. True, they can bite and it's easy enough to avoid them. However, it's what they start to say when they're denied their food that becomes disturbing. “There is a consequence of your actions, you know.” “Do not think that you are immune.” “Saving the Moss Brat seems wise now, but have a long memory.” Things like that. The voices they take on are eerie, unnatural and do not match the plants' normal begging voices. They never clear up who is speaking or what they're speaking about, but surely it's not a big issue, right?
By the end of the month, the plants wither away and break off of the various homes and businesses, leaving no visible damage behind, as if whatever caused them has faded entirely.
WHEN: Second Half of March
WHERE: Anywhere in Trench, but not the Outpost.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Magically Cursed Ailment, Severe weakness, Anemia
WHERE: Anywhere in Trench, but not the Outpost.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Magically Cursed Ailment, Severe weakness, Anemia
You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? From the moment that the first talking plants appeared in Trench, there has been another ominous presence. Unbeknownst to the people of Trench, but the Moss King is recovering from Riteior's attack and, while they are safe and slowly getting back to their normal self, this has allowed for Riteior to offer a little payback in an effort to cause trouble to those seeking to stop his attacks on the Pthumerians of Trench. In the night, while characters are sleeping, the plants strike. They wake to find a thin film over them, but otherwise it appears harmless. The next full day, there's nothing wrong and they feel hail and hearty. In fact, those pesky little talking plants are gone from their house. Of course, the next day the horror begins to settle in.
Within 48 hours, Sleepers will find themselves weak and lethargic in the extreme. The condition is not fatal, but it is problematic and irritating. They will find that no amount of food, water and rest quite gets rid of the malaise that they are experiencing, a strange drowsiness and lack of energy plaguing their every moment. The longer it persists, the more dangerous it becomes. However, there appears to be no obvious cause, at least until they visit someone capable of treating their condition, be they a Blood Minister or trained physician. Victims of this curse appear to be suffering from a severe, but not life-threatening anemia. There is no obvious cause, but the Ministers are certain that it is not natural and is likely a result of a curse of some kind. They can offer stimulants and high energy food, which will help the person experiencing the condition, but the real danger comes if they try to use their blood for a blood ritual of any kind. The insidious reason becomes obvious. Someone is attempting to stop them from safely having enough blood to perform the rituals to seal them away!
Victims are “fine” in the sense that they could get through the month safely without risk of death and just be weaker. However, if they attempt any form of blood ritual or blood letting, they risk running out of blood, which would indeed be a life threatening concern. The only solution, then, is a blood transfusion of another type. The Blood Ministers are willing to provide blood from their banks, but caution that it is better if a fresh supply is used. Do you have a friend willing to lend a hand? Or, do you miss one of the deadlines this month for fighting back Riteior?
FAQ:
This condition strikes after the mid-month, when the latest batch of rituals further weakens Riteior, and ensures the Moss King's safety.
This condition is not life threatening, unless a person attempts to use blood for a ritual or other purpose without first receiving a transfusion.
If a person attempts to perform a blood ritual before getting a transfusion, their anemia can become life threatening very quickly.
It is possible to completely avoid this prompt by not being targeted by Riteior. His cursed targeting is not that precise and he is clearly becoming desperate.
When a transfusion is given, both participants will be lightly anemic for another 24 hours, but the condition will fade afterwards completely.
It is suspected strongly by some of the Blood Ministers and Arcane Scholars that this is a curse brought about by a brief moment of control over the Moss King by Riteior. This can be learned easily in conversation with members of the orders in Trench.
Within 48 hours, Sleepers will find themselves weak and lethargic in the extreme. The condition is not fatal, but it is problematic and irritating. They will find that no amount of food, water and rest quite gets rid of the malaise that they are experiencing, a strange drowsiness and lack of energy plaguing their every moment. The longer it persists, the more dangerous it becomes. However, there appears to be no obvious cause, at least until they visit someone capable of treating their condition, be they a Blood Minister or trained physician. Victims of this curse appear to be suffering from a severe, but not life-threatening anemia. There is no obvious cause, but the Ministers are certain that it is not natural and is likely a result of a curse of some kind. They can offer stimulants and high energy food, which will help the person experiencing the condition, but the real danger comes if they try to use their blood for a blood ritual of any kind. The insidious reason becomes obvious. Someone is attempting to stop them from safely having enough blood to perform the rituals to seal them away!
Victims are “fine” in the sense that they could get through the month safely without risk of death and just be weaker. However, if they attempt any form of blood ritual or blood letting, they risk running out of blood, which would indeed be a life threatening concern. The only solution, then, is a blood transfusion of another type. The Blood Ministers are willing to provide blood from their banks, but caution that it is better if a fresh supply is used. Do you have a friend willing to lend a hand? Or, do you miss one of the deadlines this month for fighting back Riteior?
FAQ:
WHEN: Second Half of March
WHERE: Goat Turning in The Cellar Door
CONTENT WARNINGS: Gambling, Possible Coersion, lowered inhibitions, Risk of Character Death
WHERE: Goat Turning in The Cellar Door
CONTENT WARNINGS: Gambling, Possible Coersion, lowered inhibitions, Risk of Character Death
The Moss King appears to be 'on the mend' by the latter part of the month, or at least he seems to be his usual self. A flyer advertising a special for all Sleepers and residents of Trench at the Goat Turning, his personal gambling hall, circulates throughout town. The doors of the Goat Turning will be open to absolutely everyone, and nobody will be turned away for an event that will last the last two weeks of the month! Anyone who comes will be given a complementary set of chips for free, along with a very special commemorative poker chip embossed with their own face on it which they are assured they can keep afterwards, assuming they don't lose it betting! In fact, that commemorative chip is the only way that a person can return to the Goat Turning during this period, and has to be shown to get admittance, though you don't need to bet it even if it appears to be worth quite a lot! Every night, a new allotment of chips is offered to gamblers. It isn't much, and if they're willing to trade a few goods to get more, they can supplement their stash. What could be more fun than a friendly game?
The drinks and food are free for those attending, and even better? They don't seem to have a lot of strange effects. The drinks seem to ease the symptoms of corruption, in fact, and make a person more relaxed and at ease, along with lessening their inhibitions. The food is filling and pleasant, but salty, making one crave the drinks more. But, honestly, compared to Generosity's botched and spoiled food in January it's almost heavenly, even if it does make it easier to want to keep gambling and gambling. After all, those prizes for the big winners of the night are certainly something to behold, and the kinds of luxuries that Trenchies drool over.
The Big Prizes: (Maximum 1 big prize per character for the month)
A Lunar Orb
A Vial of Pthumerian Blood that can leave a person feeling sickly and weak if they come in contact with it
A Genuine Lantern, enabling a second teleportation location to be placed!
A Blood Enchanted Weapon or Armor.
An Item from Home that a character might not normally find washing up on shore
The Lesser Prizes:
Players are encouraged to use their imagination on lesser prizes that could be won. Food. Supplies. Furnishings. Weapons. Tools. Clothing. Any number of valuable could be won throughout the month.
So, what's the catch? There's always a catch. Well, like any gambling hall, the saying goes that the House Always Wins. This isn't true universally. You could have a hot streak at the Craps table, or you might just win on your lucky number in Roulette. It is very possible to walk away with enough chips to win a big prize all in one night, or build up over time to claim such a lofty goal. But the trick is that commemorative chip. It's the admission, and it's also the only way you can leave the gambling den each night. The chip must be presented both at entry and leaving, and only then does the reality become clear. That chip is so valuable because it represents your life! You might literally be betting with your life here! Should you lose your chip and not have it at the end of the night, the impressive and powerful bouncers at the door will bar you from exit, and once the hall closes there is nowhere to go but the basement. Anyone who enters the basement after hours will find that their life is indeed forfeit, and their debt is called. They will die down below. How will they die? Well, considering the fighting pits down below, any of a thousand deaths, some more gruesome than others, are possible. And, if another player holds their chip, they will be given a special pass to remain below, to demand their price themselves.
So, if you lose your chip is it still possible to get it back? Absolutely! It is a gambling hall, after all. Someone just has to be willing to give it back, or to win it back from another player or the house. What could be simpler? Of course, because there are no compulsions in the commemorative chip, and no rules about how it is to be used or transferred other than that it must be won from the house in a fair game, it is almost as if the Moss King is testing his own guests to see just how far they will go, and what they will do if their life or the life of a friend is on the line.
FAQ:
Players are limited to one grand prize per character. Please record this prize on the prompt below.
Characters that die because of this event may die in any reasonable fashion in the basement. Tools are provided. This may be handwaved.
Because this event involves the potential of players bargaining for their lives and death, we remind players to be mindful and communicative with others regarding permissions and preferences during this event. Do not break permissions.
Lesser prizes can be won in quantity, but we ask that you be reasonable about this.
The Commemorative Chip is non-magical and there is no compulsion to gamble with it.
It is simply worth a lot more.
The Event is not age restricted, so underage gambling is possible.
The drinks and food are free for those attending, and even better? They don't seem to have a lot of strange effects. The drinks seem to ease the symptoms of corruption, in fact, and make a person more relaxed and at ease, along with lessening their inhibitions. The food is filling and pleasant, but salty, making one crave the drinks more. But, honestly, compared to Generosity's botched and spoiled food in January it's almost heavenly, even if it does make it easier to want to keep gambling and gambling. After all, those prizes for the big winners of the night are certainly something to behold, and the kinds of luxuries that Trenchies drool over.
The Big Prizes: (Maximum 1 big prize per character for the month)
The Lesser Prizes:
Players are encouraged to use their imagination on lesser prizes that could be won. Food. Supplies. Furnishings. Weapons. Tools. Clothing. Any number of valuable could be won throughout the month.
So, what's the catch? There's always a catch. Well, like any gambling hall, the saying goes that the House Always Wins. This isn't true universally. You could have a hot streak at the Craps table, or you might just win on your lucky number in Roulette. It is very possible to walk away with enough chips to win a big prize all in one night, or build up over time to claim such a lofty goal. But the trick is that commemorative chip. It's the admission, and it's also the only way you can leave the gambling den each night. The chip must be presented both at entry and leaving, and only then does the reality become clear. That chip is so valuable because it represents your life! You might literally be betting with your life here! Should you lose your chip and not have it at the end of the night, the impressive and powerful bouncers at the door will bar you from exit, and once the hall closes there is nowhere to go but the basement. Anyone who enters the basement after hours will find that their life is indeed forfeit, and their debt is called. They will die down below. How will they die? Well, considering the fighting pits down below, any of a thousand deaths, some more gruesome than others, are possible. And, if another player holds their chip, they will be given a special pass to remain below, to demand their price themselves.
So, if you lose your chip is it still possible to get it back? Absolutely! It is a gambling hall, after all. Someone just has to be willing to give it back, or to win it back from another player or the house. What could be simpler? Of course, because there are no compulsions in the commemorative chip, and no rules about how it is to be used or transferred other than that it must be won from the house in a fair game, it is almost as if the Moss King is testing his own guests to see just how far they will go, and what they will do if their life or the life of a friend is on the line.
FAQ:
no subject
Maybe she doesn't hide herself as well as she thought. Her eyelids flutter. Once, that might've terrified her.
The question catches her, briefly, off-guard and she draws a breath. Her smile goes rueful as she looks up at him, the edges of her lips pinched, and she shrugs her shoulders, "When I figure out how."
Sharon became whole barely an hour before she arrived in Trench. In so many ways, she had to relearn how to exist. Even after a year here, she still feels like she's walking blind, hands held out before her as the only buffer between her and the world. Every month, though, she thinks she's a little better than the last.
"I'll get there one day," she whispers before she presses up to touch her lips to his, just as gentle and short and sweet as his, "Maybe you can help."
no subject
He kisses her back, melting behind an iron will.
"You have time," Mayerling says, breathing her in. "To become all of yourself. Everything and everyone you wish to be. Someone who receives, not only gives. Someone who sees—herself and the world. Lo, let the world tremble."
He traces her arm and guides them both back toward the painting. "Perhaps then we can see Summer."
no subject
Summer, he says, and suddenly those blue skies don't seem that far off.
She leans into him and relishes in their closeness. Takes a moment to memorize his scent and his profile and the way the pale hairs curl at the nape of his neck. Tries to figure out how he's made her feel this way but comes up empty-handed and can only recognize that she likes it; likes him.
"You make me want to," see Summer, she admits shyly, her eyes on the painting. Mayerling has managed to uncover a wealth of desires and wants within her she didn't even know were there.
"I assume it's obvious," she starts slowly, a bundle of nerves in her stomach, "but I like you," she does not look at him as she speaks, her eyes stuck to the painting before them, "More than I've liked anyone. Differently than I've liked anyone."
When she finally looks at him, her smile is bright and gleaming and confident and a little coy, "I wanna be with you and around you and listen to you talk. I wanna know about everything you enjoy doing and everything you don't."
Sharon Da Silva is not a romantic. She has never dreamed of falling in love. She has never cared about the romance of fictional characters or cried when lovers were torn apart in movies. She gags at the over-the-top displays in most film. But, here she is, being everything she swears she is not.
no subject
His heart beats thunderously loud, and he ignores it to gently memorize each and every word Sharon says, along with her heartbeat, where sweat forms on her body and how it smells, the sounds of her eyes looking around away from him and eventually to him, and—
Everything inside him slams into a wall of feeling unguarded at her smile. Mayerling picks himself and his emotions up, a few more shaken loose than he'd let them be before. He's weak to that confident smile and surety Sharon has in herself. "I like you, Sharon Da Silva," Mayerling says.
"I am yours to know and to be around," and so much more as soon as she is ready for it, "I am sure that you will look at me and my art with as sharp of eyes. You'll see me and know me for it. I want you to. You are welcome to my coffin at any time."
He wants to offer her everything but does not. It is still only a first date. "Thank you, for showing me yourself and your art." This whole place is incredible, and all the art pales next to hers.
no subject
There is nothing, not in this moment, that she wants more than him. To know him. To hear of his life. To hold his grief. To be given more reasons than she already has to embrace and cherish him and this feeling he's birthed within her. His confidence in her cools any of the doubts she had; shoves them into the back of her mind and slams the door upon them.
"You're the reason we're here, Mayerling," she tells him with a nudge. She will not take credit for his work. This, everything tonight, was because he recognized something in her she would not, "I don't think I'd have ever acknowledged how you made me feel without a little bit of... outside advice."
She laces their fingers together, "Thank you. And Charlotte."
no subject
"I will always consider the emotional gambits of openness when chance presents itself worth it, Sharon," Mayerling says, "Even with the risk it ends terribly."
His smile grows at the mention of Charlotte. The two women remind Mayerling of each other. He is sure that should their positions have been swapped, people would still regret their choices around them. In all the world he came from, how many humans could say they did not fear vampires?
Mayerling squeezes Sharon's hand. "I am sure she would like you and be glad to help," he says, "yes to... with you and me." Others may be unreasonably possessive, but Charlotte understood his lifespan and wanted him to be happy.
no subject
She can only hope he's right. Trench is a strange place and there may be a day where that statement is put to the test. For now, though, she squirrels that knowledge away and lets it bring her some reassurance.
The night continues on. They finish the gallery tour but that's hardly where the night ends. From there, she takes him to Cellar Door, to a bustling bar that's hosting an open mic night. She grabs herself a drink after finding them a small table. A wide variety of people take the stage: singers and dancers, poets and artists and storytellers. When Mayerling decides to take to the stage, Sharon sits up taller in her seat and pays closer attention to him than she has any of the others, totally enraptured. She cheers the loudest when he finishes, on her feet, until he returns.
As the night finally winds down and away, sunrise not far off, Sharon walks him back to the place he shares with D, her hand in his. On the doorstep, she pulls him towards her, grinning, to press her lips to his. This kiss lasts longer than the last ones; sweeter and less shy. When she pulls away, she's still grinning, eyes half-lidded.
"The date isn't quite over yet," she whispers to him, "So, don't go to sleep when you get in. Give me an hour, okay?"
no subject
Mayerling kisses Sharon a long time, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting the date to end, even as dawn's long fingers creep over the horizon. Most reluctantly, inside, even as he lets her go smoothly, with as much easy appearance as any other, Mayerling looks at her with longing— then amazement.
"Not over?" Mayerling confirms, questioningly. He nods. "I will wait for you, awake." Asleep, he'd be impossible for her to awaken. With a statement like hers, so mysterious, Mayerling won't be able to sleep if he wanted to.
He squeezes her hands, kisses her again briefly, and forces himself to break contact on the promise she will be back in an hour. Within an hour. His heart beat furiously like a storm, though calmly he returned inside before he caught flame, rose the stairs silently, and entered his coffin.
Mayerling lay there, thoughts oscillating wildly between thoughts he longed for unreasonably and serious attempts to pick apart what Sharon might mean.
no subject
"All right, I might have missed the sunrise," she's breathing heavily, no doubt having rushed in an attempt to make it in time, "That's on me," she laughs, "I didn't want the night to end." That's said a little more shyly. She'd had this all planned out but the night got away from her. She doesn't regret it, though. For a first date, for how it all came together, it went far better than she ever could've hoped.
The video doesn't shake much as she shows him the view. Where ever she is, she is high up, her feet dangling over the edge of a jagged, dark cliff, ocean waves crashing loudly beneath her. She swings her legs a little, the tips of her boots coming into frame and then exiting.
She is far out from the city, far enough that the sounds of the morning bustle of people can't be picked up. No clamor of horses or rumble of carriages. No chatter. Just the sound of the ocean and morning birds and the rustle of leaves in the distance, "I don't come out here too often but... I wanted to show it to you."
no subject
The view is... live, it's his, not Johan's memory. Not Sharon showing Johan but showing him. He breaths in and wishes he could smell everything through the omni. Despite its name, it is an audio and video call. Mayerling appreciates those two senses for what they are.
"The view is incredible," Mayerling says. With it, the way he can hear her breathing and knows she spent the entirety of this time rushing and running to get there, wherever there is. "You are amazing, Sharon. I— Thank you, and for sharing it with me."
That means as much in the end as seeing near sunrise. Mayerling doesn't say that part because it hints too strongly at his feelings that she's as important as the sun. He sets the omni to record so that he has this morning every morning he wishes when he goes to bed.
"Where... are you?"
no subject
She swings the view around. There's some mild camera shake but she does her best to keep it steady. From the ocean, glimmering and rippling in the early morning sunlight, to the cliffside, and then to the forest far behind her. The trees stand tall and dark, a forest of evergreens, "The city is that way. It's a little bit of a walk."
Normally, it's a long hike. Some days it's more dangerous than others and, in her haste, she may have forgotten to grab her weapons from home but, thankfully, she's not without the ability to fuck something up with her mind, "I'll bring you one night. It's a little testier in the dark but it's just as nice when the moon is out."
no subject
"I can fly us there," Mayerling offers in a single breath, "Avoid many of the beasts." Some fly naturally. However, between his speed and the gift from Never Mind to retrieve the mushrooms for the Tower, it likely isn't so testy. Regardless, he's used to navigating the woods at night. That is his time. Should they need to fight together? Mayerling smiles at the dark trees. They were ready for that the night they met.
"Perhaps for our third date," he suggests, forward, "Should you deign to include it in the next date of ours you plan." He pauses. "Or... 'hanging out.'" Six thousand years old and he cannot make that sound natural.
no subject
In the early morning sunlight, everything about her is brighter. Her eyes are a little bluer, her hair a little more of that bleach-blonde gold, and even the usual shadows beneath her eyes have been washed out by the light. The trees in the distance behind her seem to soak up the sun, too. Waves crash, birds chirp, and Sharon already feels like she's flying.
The way he says that, hanging out, makes her laugh, "God, you're cute," she nods, barely even realizing what she's said as she continues, "Yeah, I'll add it to the itinerary for our third date. But isn't this our first one? We can't have a third date without a second date."
no subject
When he breathes in, he blinks and catches himself. "Yes, fly," Mayerling smiles, "You could feel the wind pass your face and hold your arms out if you like."
He flushes slightly but continues on boldly. "Yes, you planned this date, so it's only fair that I get to plan our second date," Mayerling says, "It's only right that your spot be part of your date, not mine."
Her date was... spectacular. He'll have to plan meticulously to have any hopes to hold up to it.
no subject
When he flushes, her smile disappears for a breath, her eyes trailing over his features in a look of concentration as she sears the image of him into her mind. Already, she can see how she wants to paint him; what features of his she wants to draw the eyes attention to. Even the colors she would use.
"I hope you're not going to try to one-up me," she says flirtatiously, something about the way she says those words verging on a dare. And she wants nothing more than for him to succeed in doing it.
Clooooooooosed
Mayerling looks at her longingly through the screen. "I wouldn't dare try," he says first, his long lashes over nearly closed eyes.
"Only succeed."