ArchivedLogs:Not Quite Home

Not Quite Home
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Isra
In Absentia	2016-05-30 "Bets on how long before this one burns down?"
Location <NYC> The Roost - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The sawdust-and-paint new-construction smell of the house is, at the moment, being pushed back by the breeze drifting in from the river. A pair of large glass doors have been thrown wide open onto the balcony outside, where this section of the East River glimmers, tonight, under myriad dragonfly- and lotus-flower shape string lights twined from the neighboring balcony and windows -- evidently, the most important part of moving in. At least, Dusk has put /these/ up on the adjacent balcony before actually bothering with putting any furniture in /his/ house. As he wings his way back to land in a crouch on the balcony railing, /his/ bedroom beyond the open doors is bare and empty, save for a backpack tossed into one corner. Regardless, he looks satisfied with his handiwork. Isra ascends the stairs with two mugs in hand--both black, both glossy new, one featuring stars and nebulae, the other a family portrait of the Endless. The rich smell of coffee preceeds her and only grows stronger as she enters. She's wearing a gauzy sleeveless white cotton sun dress with that shows off the hypnotic multichromatic hues of her skin to great effect, to the extent that the colors show up at all in the relative dimness of the unlit, empty room. Once she achieves the capacious center of the room, her wings rustle behind her and stretch out a quarter of the way--they are paler than the rest of her skin, in shifting opalescent hues overlaid with a fine tracery of silver veins that match Dusk's wings. She remains there for a moment, preternaturally still as she watches Dusk alight. But then her tail sways, slow and sinuous, and she glides forward on long, stalking steps to meet him, offering the Endless mug, its contents a much lighter brown than the other. Dusk's wings pull only partway in, staying half-mantled behind him in counterbalance as he leans forward to claim the mug. A quiet rumble of purr thrums in his chest when he lifts it to take a sip. "So." He lowers the mug, eyes drifting past Isra to the sturdy new walls of the house. "Bets on how long before this one burns down?" Isra lifts her own mug and sips from it, bright green eyes sliding shut. Her ears prick up at the sound of Dusk's purr, then press back against her hairless scalp at his question, though her expression remains placid. "Let us shoot for three years, this time. At minimum." One of Dusk's wings fetches up against the railing, talons curling in against it. The other shifts forward, stretching out to brush in against Isra's side. "Optimistic." The low purr has continued, just underneath the sound of his spoken voice. It grows a little deeper -- a little harsher -- as his eyes cant sideways towards the fairy lights strung from the balcony beside his. "... think he'll be out by then?" A low, low growl rises in Isra's chest, more easily felt than heard. The swishing of her tail, which had been growing faster and more agitated, slows at the touch of Dusk's wing. She opens her eyes again. "I hope so." She never ceases growling, her words spoken only with her upper vocal chords in a calm, soft alto. Then, at length she adds, even more quietly, "I miss him so." Dusk's wing curls further, wrapping against Isra's back. He tips his head in, forehead coming to rest against hers, the shaggy dark waves of his hair falling in against the colourful smooth sweep of her scalp. 'It's not quite home yet, is it?' There's a faint tremor in the supple membrane of his skin where it presses against her. "He's doing better, though. As much as he can be. I mean, today's -- always hard. But. He's not..." He swallows, shakes his head. "... today's hard." The long, gleaming talons on Isra's thumb and first two fingers clack audibly together as she signs 'no.' Then she lays the same hand gently against Dusk's chest. "At least you could go to him today, of all days. I feared they might not allow him so many visitors at once." Her wings twitch, one curling in close, nestled undereneath Dusk's, and the other stretching out past the railing to wrap around him, though no so tightly as to upset his balance. There's no trembling in her, and the growl has faded into inaudibility. "Do you suppose he might like to see me, some time?" The low rumble within Dusk deepens -- shoulders shaking now in quiet laughter. "Kind of glad they did. Pretty sure even if they'd said no Ion would have landed up in there /anyway/ with Egg and a couple six-packs and I don't think they need that headache right now." His head shifts against hers, a slow small nod. 'I think he'd be glad.' Isra huffs, a soft, breathy chuckle. "It startles me a bit that they had that much foresight." The fingers of her hand curl in on Dusk's chest, the tips of her claws digging in slowly and steadily. "Then I shall." The wing she had wrapped around him coils in tighter, too, and her head tips far enough back for her to plant a kiss on his forehead. 'They're supposed to be an intelligence agency, right?' Dusk's muscles tense up -- clenching tighter as Isra's claws dig against his skin. He doesn't pull back, though. Just breathes a little deeper, eyes briefly closing. His head tips in, after a few steady breaths, lips touching this time softly to Isra's. One corner of Isra's mouth curls up, baring a sharp fang. She sets her mug down on the railing. "Indeed. But what they /do/ with their supposed intelligence remains to be seen." Her claws bite harder into his skin. The rumble in her chest sounds a bit more like a purr than a growl as they kiss, as her wing gathers him closer, coaxing him down from the railing and into her arms. Dusk's breathing catches, momentarily, at the feel of Isra's purr. His talons click against the railing -- scrape there briefly -- then release, freeing him up to slide down to the balcony floor. Lean in further, the tension in him easing. Isra stands taller by far now that their feet are on the same level, and her wing envelopes him more completely, supporting his weight against her lithe, muscular frame. She pushes Dusk back against the railing for just a moment, claws digging into his side and his back, her kiss ending with a sharp nip at his lower lip. Then she draws him with her into the darkness of the vast, empty room.