ArchivedLogs:Flirting

Flirting
Dramatis Personae Anette, Dusk
In Absentia	2015-11-28 "Are you going to tell me you're the romantic, waiting for the right one type?"
Location <BOM> Front Porch - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The front porch of the lodge unfurls its way across the entire front length of the building. Stained in a dark reddish finish, it seems to have been refurbished somewhat recently, the sturdy wood rather less weather-beaten than many of the buildings on the island. A half-height railing edges most of the porch, with a wide gated staircase centrally leading to the heavy front door, and ungated ramps at either side end. Protected from all but the most driving of rains by a sloped roof, the porch has been furnished with an assortment of furniture. Wicker rocking chairs, a pair of small square aluminum tables, a hammock at the far right end, a bench swing at the left. Despite the solid locks on the doors and windows, the front door holds a cheerfully flower-edged mat reading WELCOME. It's long past dark, long past dinner, and the mild day has shifted into a chilly night, overcast and starless. There's a blotch of darker space dipping lower against the already dark sky -- a heavy draft, a powerful flap of wings as Dusk backwings to a landing, boots thumping down on the railing of the porch. His dark wings snap back in behind him, stretching out again a moment later to shake off faint misty-chill dampness from the clouds overhead. He snaps open the strap of the messenger bag slung crossways across his body, letting it thump down to the porch behind him as he stretches out his wings, then his shoulders, one eye scrunched up as they roll slowly. Only then does he take a pouch out of the pocket of the canvas jacket he is wearing, opening it up to start rolling himself a cigarette. Seconds after Dusk lands on the porch, Anette steps out through the door to the main cabin. There's something...different about her. She appears to almost have dressed up. Not quite, 'going out' dressed up but she is wearing one of her nicer tops, long sleeved but low cut, traded her usual jeans for a skirt, and heeled black leather boots. Her hair hangs loose and is pushed over one shoulder. She closes the door behind her and leans up against the wall beside it, smiling to Dusk and gently lifts the glass of white wine she's drinking in greeting. She tilts her head slightly, looking at Dusk thoughtfully for a moment before hesitantly asking, "...Engish?" Dusk has dipped his head, licking his rolling paper to seal it shut. Then flicking a lighter to light the neatly-rolled cigarette, taking a long first puff. Though he stretches out a wing to brush against Anette's arm by way of hello it takes him a while to answer out /loud/, head tipping back to blow out a stream of grey towards the sky. His lips curl back into a wide fangy grin. "That," he eventually does answer, soft amusement curling through his voice, "/is/ on the list of languages I know, yes." He offers the cigarette out towards her between two fingers. "You dressing /up/ for the apocalypse? Going out in style." "I'm just sick of playing charades to communicate around here. I'd rather be sick again," Anette says, taking a sip from her wine before grinning to Dusk. "Just felt like dressing up. I've recently declared myself single. Well, I put it up to a vote and Daken wasn't around to put his vote in so it ended up being unanimous. So..." She takes another sip of her wine. "...just making up for lost time. Though dying from the apocalypse in style has its merits, I suppose." "I'm not sick anymore, so you won't get it from me." There's a shudder that ripples through Dusk's wings, a faint tremble of his hand as he takes another drag of cigarette. "But I wouldn't. I'd be silent all year rather than go through -- that. Again." A small growl, low and soft, rumbles underneath his words. "Pretty sure being in a relationship's always the kind of thing you get to decide unilaterally, right? I mean, not /entering/ one. But leaving one. The alternative's sort of -- scary." Anette nods slowly. "Yeah, I'm cured myself. It was pretty scary." Another sip of wine. "Don't even want to think about everyone I ended up hurting. All the more reason I'm glad to be single now. The worst part was feeling so alone, couldn't talk to anyone, and Daken was...no where in sight." Her voice softens as she continues to speak and her feathers flatten against her wings, beginning to betray her emotions. Another gulp of wine is enough to reset her thoughts and allow her to continue. "But hey, doesn't matter. I can go back to having fun. I haven't felt this free in...well, a long time." She begins to smile a bit. "If it weren't for the apocalypse, I'd suggest we go out to a bar or club or something." Dusk's wing stretches out again, touching lightly to Anette's when her feathers flatten. His own expression is a little distant at the mention of hurting people, his lips pressing together, his claws twitching. He takes a long draw of smoke, blows it out sharply. His smile is just as sharp a moment later. "Apocalypse /does/ have a way of interfering with clubbing. Heard there's a place in SoHo still going strong. Hella good soundproofing. Lots of security. Swank as fuck, though. Not my type. Figures all the rich people gonna be playing their way straight into hell, though." His thumb flicks at the end of his cigarette. "Admit it's kind of strange to me. Feeling /free/ when -- I mean, a relationship shouldn't be a prison in the first place." His head shakes, slightly. "So what /are/ you gonna do with your newfound freedom?" "SoHo, huh? Not usually my area but I could check it out," Anette says with a grin. "Of course the rich would find a way. The super rich ones can just fly their planes in circles. Let the rest of us die from the plague down here." As Dusk critiques her idea of a relationship, she gives slight shrug. "It had its ups and downs. It was my first serious relationship I don't have a lot to compare it to. There was a lot I missed about being single though." Dusk's answers gets a playful grin and wink. "Not sure about 'what' but I have a few ideas for 'who'." "The super rich ones probably mostly got the fuck out of Dodge to go to their summer homes at the first sign of trouble." Dusk grimaces, fidgeting restlessly with his cigarette but not taking another drag, this time. His tongue presses up between his upper lip and his fanged teeth, his eyes turning up towards the cloudy nighttime sky. One side of his mouth curls crookedly upward at Anette's grin; he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck at her answer. "S'your kinda fun, huh?" "It usually is," Anette says with a playful grin, finishing off her glass of wine and setting the glass down on the porch rail. "What, are you going to tell me you're the romantic, waiting for the right one type?" She gives a quiet sigh and leans up against the railing besides Dusk. "Like I said, making up for lost time. Just...focusing on enjoying the now." This puts a wider grin on Dusk's face, bright and fangy. He dips his head, his laugh quiet as he gives a quick shake of denial to Anette's question. "Oh, man. It's a little late for me on that." His tongue touches briefly to his lips, one hand gripping the railing where he perches. "It's not that. It's just -- the /now/ is kind of an apocalypse, you now? I --" His brows furrow, the smile on his face slipping as his sharp teeth drag against his lower lip. "Don't get me wrong, it isn't -- that I'm not into you. I mean, I would totally -- I mean -- I'm totally about /enjoying/ -- I /mean/ --" A hint of colour dusts his cheeks, hand lifting again to rub at the back of his neck. "I mean that I kind of group 'catastrophic life stress' up there with 'compromising circumstances' that complicate new hookups. Ethically." Anette can't help but laugh a bit at Dusk's sudden nervousness. "Relax, I'm only teasing. I mean, if you wanted, I'd be more than willing. But I'll settle for meaningless flirting." It's Anette's turns to stretch out a wing and lightly graze it across Dusk's back in a half-hug. "I've never given much thought to ethics. If anything, the apocalypse makes things more exciting. For all we know, we might be dead tomorrow. Carpe diem." "With the way my bite works, I've had to give a -- lot of thought to my ethics," Dusk replies, his smile a little lopsided. His wing presses up into Anette's touch, a low thrum rumbling in his chest. "And we might be. But the way the world is, that's pretty much true of our whole lives. If we do make it through this horrorshow, though --" Now his grin is brighter again as he looks back at Anette, "come ask me again." "Alright, the second the quarantine is lifted, we celebrate," Anette agrees, grinning to Dusk. "With all the shit I've done in my life, sometimes I'm genuinely surprised I made it this far. Can't complain though, it's been a good run. If I die tomorrow...I'd be ok with it. So..." she asks, glancing over towards Dusk thoughtfully. "Got any other ideas to kill time and have fun that don't involve hooking up?" "Some of the rest of us would be a lot less okay with it." Dusk finishes off his cigarette, crushing the end against the porch railing. His wings stretch briefly behind him, a return smile offered to Anette. "Well. The quarantine blocks don't mean much with wings. You're all dressed up already. If you're up for some exercise and can stomach Connecticut, there are still clubs open out there in the world we /could/ get to. I could do with a night off from zombie hunting anyway." "Very true. Though I'm so out of shape for flying, between my leg and then being sick and now my shoulder, I haven't really flown in ages. Though I'd rather stomach Connecticut than Jersey," Anette says, leaning up away from the railing and turning to face Dusk. "Come on, let's go."