ArchivedLogs:Stargazers

Stargazers
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Isra	2014-02-14 Flowers, conventional and otherwise. (Set some time after taking Isra for redecorating.)
Location <NYC> The Roost - Village Lofts - East Village
Geekhaus's living room is an odd mix of cheer and somber; there's still funerary trappings in the black veiled draperies over the windows but they've been joined again by the perma-cheerful Christmas lights that wend across the doorway between living room and kitchen and over the molding above the living room - kitchen counter. There's still a few tombstone-decorated cupcakes sitting in a container on the gaming table, a solitary white sugar-flower resting atop it. Amid the lingering black decorations and R.I.P. cupcakes there are other things -- bright red-and-pink cards, chocolates, flowers lending the apartment fragrance. Dusk's door is partially open; it's quiet from within. He's got his enormous (glowing!) headset on his head, colours in it changing and pulsing in time with whatever music is piping through them. His fingers are flying rapidly over his keyboard, brightly colour-coded text on his screen. There are more flowers in here, a bouquet of hyacinths resting next to a plate of strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. Half eaten. On his desk there is a vase of white and pink lilies jostling elbows with the hyacinths, a small envelope tucked beneath it, sealed shut. Isra, cloaked and hooded, comes to the door of Geekhaus and--almost timidly--lifts one hand to knock. Her nails are a brilliant shade of violet thrown against white of her hand, which is, though not less human-looking than her usual slate gray, certainly more striking. Her face is contoured in sweeps and fades of magenta, as though by the hand of an extremely dedicated makeup artist. Darker purple spots disappear down her neck. She carries a dark green satchel, picking at its strap idly with one hand. It's Flicker who comes to get the door, eyes widening when he opens it and finds Isra there. In contrast to Isra he's very uncolourful today, grey Columbia hoodie and plain khakis, grey socks, his vivid eyes the brightest spot of colour about him. His mouth drops open, and for a long silent stretch he just gapes before he remembers to take a step back. "Oh -- oh /wow/. Oh -- I mean, /wow/." He pulls the door back open wider, gesturing with a hand to invite her inside. "I mean. Wow. Just -- what -- that's incredible." When Isra blushes now, it actually shows in the white of her cheeks and ears, though in a way it just looks like an extension of her current color scheme. She lowers her head--it is hard to say whether in a nod of thanks or some reflexive attempt to hide beneath the brim of her hood--and slips inside. "Thank you." This comes out softly, and low, a rumbling but not unfriendly bass. "I have not quite gotten used to it myself. I…" She blushes harder, and her tail swishes beneath the hem of her cloak. "Is Dusk home?" "Oh -- right yeah of course Dusk." Flicker closes the door behind Isra, blipping back a few feet to drop himself back onto the couch. "In his room. You can just go in, door's open." He's -- still gaping, more than a little bit, eyes skimming over the new coloration in more than a little bit of awe. "Tag's handiwork," Isra explains, shedding her cloak and draping it over one arm. "I allowed him to do this pro bono on the condition that he would /consider/ starting a business." Her wings stretch out a quarter of the way, just far enough to fold back down over her shoulders. There, on the large, smooth stretches of skin, the pattern truly has room to shine. Each wing membrane looks like the petal of a vast stargazer lily, deep magenta at the center and fading in mottled waves out to the brilliant white of the elongated phalanges that frame them. Her horns and talons are all the same vivid purple to match her wrap dress. The bandage on her right arm and the wrappings on her feet have been dyed leaf-green to match her eyes--the only visible part of her person that still retains its usual coloration. She makes her way to Dusk's door, almost draws back from it, but finally stretches out one wing to push the door open ahead of her. With his headphones blasting, absorbed in his work, Dusk doesn't initially notice the door opening behind him. It takes a bit for him to tune in to another presence -- the beat of another heart, the smell of another person, the feel of other eyes on him. "Eyah." He doesn't turn at first, stretching out his good wing -- though by now even the injured one bears only thin veinings of scarring, still hanging uncomfortably behind him but not even bandaged, anymore, so much as just slightly more raw -- to help pull the door open all the way. "Just a sec just gotta --" Something; he stays focused on his screen for a short while longer before saving his work. He knocks one ear of the headphones back off his ears, swivelling on the stool to face the door. His black eyes shoot open wide. His mouth opens into an o, his breath drawing in in a sharp gasp. "Holy -- fucking. Shit." His eyes stray from Isra to the vase of stargazer lilies on his desk. Back to Isra. His hand lifts, running over the top of his head to rub at the back of his neck. "That -- certainly outdoes any bouquet /I've/ ever gotten." "It is rather eye-catching, if the looks I've gotten--here, of all places--are any indication." Isra drops her cloak at the foot of the mattress and closes the space to Dusk in two fluid strides, her wing brushing his as she passes. "It calls to mind one of those insects that evolve to camouflage themselves against the native flora." She reaches out to clasp the hand at the back of his neck, dropping down to kneel awkwardly beside his chair so that their faces are level. "I am glad that it pleases you." This last comes out in both of her voices, the lower register a purring echo of the higher. "There's a preying mantis who'd go pretty excellent with you right now. Beautiful creatures." Dusk brushes his wing back up against Isra's, swivelling back to his computer to remove his headphones entirely and set them on his desk. He minimizes his work, pulling up a browser instead to pull up a google image search with a screen full of pictures of the pink-tinted orchid mantis. His head tips back, rubbing slowly against Isra's taloned touch at the back of his neck. "A lot about you makes me happy." He reaches for the vase of lilies at his desk, and the envelope beneath it, offering both to Isra. "These are for you, but you kind of outshine them." "That," Isra says, nodding at the screen with a faint smile, "was more or less what I kept thinking while Tag worked on this, although I thought it perhaps someone untoward to compare myself /too/ closely to a mantis, given the occasion." Her ears swivel forward, then back again as she accepts the flowers and card. "Thank you. I had never even considered celebrating Valentine's Day before." Her smile grows wider, fangs showing, as luminous green eyes flick back up to meet his. "Am I meant to open the card now?" "I think it's a fine comparison. Mantids are fierce and fucking /gorgeous/. And I love Valentine's Day, my house overflows with chocolate. Want a strawberry?" Dusk flicks a thumbclaw towards the plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries on his desk that have evidently been fueling him while he works. "Oh yeah. The envelope's to open now. -- Really though," he reconsiders a moment later, "the day after Valentine's Day is /even better/. Half-price chocolate in all the stores." "Mantids are fierce and gorgeous," Isra agrees, grinning now, "and known for devouring their mates." She trails her talons around Dusk's neck to his chin before pulling her hand away--reluctantly. "Why, almost as good as Halloween, then?" One of her wings winds its careful way around him, gentle against his injured one. Setting the flowers down, she opens the envelope with one long purple claw and removes the card with surprising delicacy. "I wouldn't complain." Dusk's grin is broad and sharp-toothed, a shiver running up his spine at the trace of talons, his head tilting upwards to bare his neck to them. "I really can't decide which I like better. Halloween's candy and freaks. This is candy and love. They're /both/ like my favourite things, man. It's a toss-up. I think I just like holidays, though. Christmas, Thanksgiving. Everything sparkles on Independence Day. I'll keep 'em all. Who doesn't love a party?" The envelope contains a card -- the front is a photograph of the Rosette Nebula. Tucked into the inside of the card there is a folded sheet of paper that turns out to be a printed-out map, one point on it marked with a shiny gold-star sticker. The card says very little inside it. 'For my stargazer. Happy Valentines Day. -Dusk' "Had to do some research. Ask around. Astronomer-types who know about this stuff. The internet helped. But a bit of searching tells me that's the best visibility you'll /get/ in reasonable flying range around here. Once the weather starts to thaw out a little bit and we can take longer hauls." Isra's ears press back, stark white against the mottled magenta on the sides of her head. Her wing settles down across Dusk's shoulder, thumb talon caressing his cheek. "You may have all the holidays and all the parties you like, whether or not anyone else cares to put it on a calendar." Her eyes scan the map and she gives an impressed nod. "Yes, this is wonderful. I would feel tremendously tempted to go there this very moment, but that the weather is dreadful." She curls her wing in, pulling them closer together. Her lips touch his neck, a long exhale and the tips of fangs trailing over his skin. "Though, even if it were warm, I might be persuaded to stay." It does not appear as if she requires a great deal of persuading, her fingers tracing sharp lines down his torso. Dusk's cheek turns into the touch, talon pressing a faint red line against his cheek. "When it's warmer." He slides in closer, injured wing gently pressing up against hers. His breathing quickens with the touch of lips, and his good wing stretches out past Isra, pressing his door closed as his head tips back to bare his neck to the light trail of her fangs. Beneath her fingers his muscles tense, pressing up harder against her. "Ssss," his breath comes out first in a soft hiss, a low purring rumble of growl starting up and continuing beneath his words. "Right now I'm pretty okay with it staying cold a /good/ long while."