deercountry | oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid? [ OPEN ]

Entry tags:

oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid? [ OPEN ]

Who:

egyptologist & you!
What: event shenanigans in one fabulous catch all, for all your RP needs
When: Throughout September
Where: All over!

Content Warnings: mentions and gifs/images of blood and dead bodies, death, decay, and trauma, possible suicide ideation, possible R rated scenes of varying degrees, etc etc. will mark as needed

(( ooc; event prompts, various september logs, and tdm continuations will go in this thread. if you have something you'd like to do, pm me or hit me up at

pincurls! ))

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"Really. Never had a relationship longer than two months."

Dean feels ancient, a broken shell of the man he used to be. He's thirty five and feels seventy.

"Two months?"

She knew that courtiers flitted from bed to bed. But two months was incomprehensible to an Alastrian, who knew only pairs that mated for life and remained so fiercely loyal it bordered on neurosis.

Humans were always full of surprises. But she wasn't especially sure how much she liked this one.

"...Yeah?"

He furrows his brow a little, like jeez.

"Something wrong with that..?"

"It...doesn't seem like a lot of time." She wasn't judgmental or disgusted. Really, just confused. "I mean, I've known you longer than two months, and I still feel like there's a lot we don't know about each other. How do you get close to someone and fall apart so quickly? How does it work?"

Despite Anakin's wishes, Ariadne was going to look to Dean for answers.

In all fairness, she'd never had an older brother. Well, Galen had hatched first, but that didn't count.

It isn't, really. But Dean isn't a great example.

"Dating...probably works differently where I'm from," he says, pushing off the wooden shelf and gesturing. Might as well go inside if they're gonna talk about this, sit down and have a drink. Ariadne's surrounded by a lot of people in Trench that are from some version of Earth - might as well learn about it.

She slid off of her perch and followed him outside, her hands folded behind her back in an easy, open posture. The last thing she wanted to do was put Dean on the defensive. Having one snarly male bossing her around was more than enough.

"Dating is like a courtship?" she said, vaguely familiar with the word, thanks largely to Deerington. "Although, from what I understand, it's less formal. And social caste doesn't matter as much?"

Ariadne actually liked that part, quite a lot.

"Yeah, I guess so." Easiest way to put it, and she's right - way less formal than what she's likely used to.

"No, it doesn't matter. I guess it does to some people," not people Dean knows, "but for most, nah."

He leads her inside to the kitchen, getting out two ugly teacups down and giving her a splash of the good stuff.

"Sip it, remember. That's better stuff than I gave you last time. Should be smoother."

Ariadne accepted the cup with only a little trepidation. Not because of Anakin's warnings. Just because she remembered exactly how much whisky burned. Nevertheless, she sipped it and...

All right, it still felt like fire going down her throat. But less of a raging inferno, more of a coal that had been sitting on the fireplace for a few hours.

At least she didn't spit it out. She covered her mouth and managed a very ladylike cough.

"Smoother," she repeated, in a little croak.

He laughs a little, proud she didn't spit it back out or choke like she did last time. She's getting better at it, so there's that.

"Tell you what. I have some wine that Sam's girlfriend brought over to the other cabin, that made its way here. Would you rather have that?"

"That's very kind of you," she said. "But from what I understand, drinking is more of a communal ritual. You drink whisky. Therefore, I will."

Simple as that. Of course, it didn't matter all that much, since she couldn't actually become intoxicated. Well...theoretically, anyway. Alastrians had extremely fast metabolisms, but she supposed that anything was possible.

Anyway, she didn't intend to experiment today.

"Anyway, I want to hear more about 'dating.'" And sex. But she figured one would probably lead to the other.

"Sure, it is. But that doesn't mean everyone has to drink the same. You should have what you like."

But he wont argue with her about it, instead he just pours more into his own glass and takes a sip before leaning back in his chair.

"Like I said, I'm no expert. But I'll answer whatever questions I can. Ask away."

Neatly, she settled on the floor, tucking her legs beneath her and sitting on her heels. She set her glass down beside her knee, folding her hands in her lap. It was the same way she used to sit at Aunt Lysia's feet, asking her question after question, most of which she wasn't able to answer.

Which, of course, hadn't stopped Ariadne from asking again and again.

It was her way.

"All right," she said. "Let's start with attraction. What does that feel like? How do you know when you're feeling it?"

He peers at her, a brow lifted in amusement.

"We have these things called chairs, you know. You can use them." She's an odd bean, but Dean likes her.

"Well.." He starts, furrowing his brow. "I guess it starts with the physical. If you like what you see. For instance, I think you're gorgeous. But that's just on the surface, right? The more you get to know a person, the more attractive they become." In his opinion, anyway.

Not that that counts for a lot.

"Physical," she said, nodding like the eager pupil she was. Although she flushed a little when he called her 'gorgeous.' She was pretty sure it didn't mean anything, but she was also pretty sure something like that would make Anakin want to stab him.

Now that she thought about it, if Anakin was going to be territorial around her, that would quash any possibility of trying this 'dating' thing, wouldn't it?

Well, it was all theoretical, anyway.

"So you find someone physically appealing, and then try to get to know them?"

A lot of what he says would make Anakin want to stab him.

"Yeah, I guess that's where I usually start." It's not a universal thing but Dean isn't all that hip when it comes to different spectrums. He is very much a tits and ass and pretty face guy (and apparently, skinny angels are his type).

"So what do you find physically appealing, then?" she asked. "As a man?"

She reasoned, after all, that if physical attraction was the first step, one had to be physically attractive. But most humanoid races had very different ideas of what was beautiful. And Ariadne had more experience with Elves and Darucs than Humans. Daruc men seemed to favor powerful legs and broad shoulders. Elf men...it was a little harder to say. They seemed to either love everything about Elf women...or hate everything about Elf women.

Very little middle ground. And no discernable pattern.

But she had a living, breathing (only slightly snarly) male in front of her. She had to gather information.

"Uh. Well. I guess I like darker hair? Though that doesn't really matter as much as the eyes. I like nice eyes, good lips, long legs..."

Dean, frankly, isn't all that picky.

"I guess it's a whole package. Like you, I think you're beautiful. And not cause you look kinda like Natalie Portman."

"Natalie Portman?" That was a new one. She'd been called Padmé Amidala plenty. And Jane Foster as well. Now she had to add a third name to the confusion? Or a fourth, if she included her own?

Somehow, a part of her began to wonder if this was a fitting punishment. She'd gone through so much of her life living a face that wasn't truly her own. Now, clearly, she was--pun intended--facing some consequences.

It was an elegant sort of punishment.

Ariadne shook her head. "Who is Natalie Portman?"

Well damn. He hadn't meant to introduce another existential crisis, but here they are.

"She's an actress. Do you have plays and stuff where you're from? Entertainment kind of thing?"

Ariadne nodded. She quite enjoyed theatre, actually. On those rare occasions when she could sit in on a story or two. They were becoming less frequent, mostly because it was too dangerous to travel. Players were very quickly becoming an endangered species.

But yes, she understood what an actress was.

"A famous actress?" she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching, threatening to break into a smile.

He nods.

"Yeah, she's pretty famous. That's probably why people keep recognizing you. In...one way or another."

"Well," she said, "I suppose I should take that as a compliment, then." She giggled, striking a dramatic pose. "In another lifetime, I suppose I would have made a fine performer." She was certainly very good at lying. And that was only half a step away from performing, wasn't it?

That was a nice way of thinking about it.

She leaned back a little, resting her back against the legs of a chair. "I don't mean to completely change the subject, but I've noticed you're complimenting my appearance quite a lot today."

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oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid? [ OPEN ]

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