eames » open post

[falsify]

leave a comment
alternate accounts: teen || r!63

Comments

@maukingthegrave

[falsify]

[cont]

[Eames watches Molly, taking in the way he holds himself and the way he moves, enjoying the view as he closes the front door.]

It's made with oíche fíniúnacha mostly, they glow beautifully this time of year.

[He doesn't savour the spectacle of the drink the way Molly does — it's normal for him, after all — simply taking a sip, allowing some of that mist to travel up his nose. It has a scent vaguely reminiscent of fog in autumn and a taste that's sweet and crisp, lightly fizzy on the tongue. He sighs when he swallows, it's been a while. The easy way it slides down his throat and leaves a warm feeling sitting in his stomach-- there's no mortal drinks that do that for him.]

[maukingthegrave]

Huh, I've never heard of it. Is it a flower? [Molly takes in how Eames is drinking and mimics it on his next sip. It's probably a little strong for an average tiefling, but he's no stranger to drinking, eating, and snorting the most random things if it promises to be an experience. Consequences be damned.]

[He also lets out a long sigh after he does the drink/fog combination, nodding his head appreciatively.] Now that is how to drink this. Incredible. Whatever it is that glows, you should take me to see it sometime.

[falsify]

Mm-- well, mostly the vine. It grows in Faery where the veil is thinnest. [He gestures to the couch for Molly to sit, taking a seat himself. Slightly turned to face his guest obviously.] I could take you around the Dísablót, that time of year they're no good for drinks, but the flowers are in full bloom.

[As they talk, if anyone's feeling particularly perceptive they might hear the clatter of claws on a hardwood floor coming from the kitchen. They get quieter once he steps on the carpet, and few moments later there's an excited looking rottweiler coming into the living room with a plush toy in his mouth that he deposits on the couch between the two of them. Immediately he gives Molly an expectant look, tail wagging, because obviously they're friends now. He brought a toy, that's how friendship works.]

[maukingthegrave]

Sounds beautiful. [Molly takes the offered seat, sitting sideways with his elbow resting on the back of the couch, legs tucked up. He seems the sort to make himself comfortable anywhere, but he also seems particularly interested in Eames as he leans forward slightly to listen.]

I have a friend who collects flowers. The look on her face if I brought back one that glowed... [He grins, just imagining Yasha's usually neutral expression lighting up. It's worth whatever silly thing he had to do to earn it every time.]

[Molly is more focused on Eames, but he does notice once the dog hits the carpet that there's another moving thing in the room. It's a little startling, but once he sees what it is he laughs. What a disgusting, slobbery thing that's been deposited in between them.]

I suppose that's a hint, hm? Alright-- [Molly grabs the toy quickly and pitches it in a nice arc towards the other end of the room. He's dealt with dogs before. Not too often, but enough to know that the friendly ones love fetching.]

Is he a typical dog or more kin to you? [He does travel with a wizard who has a fae cat, it's not too odd a question.]

you wanted text action. when everyone's honeymooning, before murder

[stauncherhearted]

I can't do dinner tonight :(

i always want text action

[falsify]

Something come up?

[stauncherhearted]

yeah. big truck coming in at work, lots to inventory

[falsify]

You definitely can't get away?

@potofgold

[falsify]

[x]

You seem like you'd be unbearable on meth.

Sweeney, I'm not dealing with them anymore.

[godking]

Are you breaking up with me/??

because if you are, we need to have been dating first and I don't date, love

[falsify]

Neither do I, but I am considering changing that policy just to break up with you.

[godking]

whatever love wants

[stauncherhearted]

[The knock on Eames' flat door came from much lower than usual, and was considerably lighter. On the other side of the door stood a small boy, no more than seven-years-old. He stood there in a second-hand school uniform, his backpack, which was nearly half his size, on the ground as he put his tablet back in, waiting for the door to open.

When it does, he looks up at the man who appeared.]

Mr. Eames? Hi. Mummy said to find you if I need help. And I founded you.

[Meet William John Sikes.]

possessive jealousy or something or other, let us just run with it

[smugfox]

"Who was that?" Reynard's voice sounds casual, just on the verge of not even interested, almost bored, nothing to show that he cares much about the answer one or the other. Except, of course, the fact that before just now stepping up next to Eames and asking said casual question, he had been nowhere to be seen, heard, nor otherwise in any way present for a good while.

That part might be a bit suspicious, given the timing and the all too intentionally casual tone. "A friend?"

[falsify]

Eames smiles at Reynard, usually happy to see him, reaches out to put a hand on his hip to draw him close.

That changes when he hears the questions, glances back at the person he'd been talking to; purple skin that shimmers in the light and an ethereal grace as they move, a beauty he'd be remiss to ignore. They smile when he catches their eye and Eames smiles back before looking back to Reynard. He can tell there's about to be a problem, but he can't tell what or why, and shrugs a shoulder.

"Potentially," he says, "that remains to be seen."

[smugfox]

"Is it glamour? I need to be closer to tell, but they seem... a bit much." Whatever he means by that when judging someone walking away he's never even properly looked at. Still, they certainly don't feel right to him.

His focus moves fully to Eames and from looking at him, he moves to kissing his lips. A few seconds and he suddenly ducks his head against his neck, lips parting teeth pressing against skin. He intents to mark him.

[falsify]

"No, I'd have seen through any gl--" he's cut off suddenly by the kiss, not that he objects really. Not in the moment. But this is all a bit much all of a sudden, as he starts to kiss Reynard back he's already moving to his neck. He's trying to decide how he feels about this when he starts to feel the scrape of teeth and puts a hand on Reynard's chest to push him back, shifting away from him at the same time.

"What's going on?"

hurt me, comfort me

[thecanarylives]

[ She'd closed up at the bar early, seeing as how they'd had a total of two customers her whole shift, a stolen bottle of Jack tucked under her arm as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Stopping in her tracks at the messy trail of blood on the ground in front of her, she sets the bottle down, drawing the gun holstered inside her jacket and stepping quietly into the entryway to follow the bloody trail towards the bathroom. ]

If this is some kind of practical joke, it's a pretty shitty one.

oh baby oh baby

[falsify]

[Generally Eames tries not to just let himself in to people's homes when they're not there, especially if they don't have an established relationship for that kind of thing, but he's pretty messed up right now and Sara's place was the closest.]

[There's a lot of blood, but in his defence Eames is a lot of man. A lot of man who is currently sat, exhausted, on the floor in Sara's bathroom. A haphazard attempt at patching himself up along with some small try at cleaning up after himself, but a not so small wound in his chest along with several other nasty looking ones make it hard to do anything that isn't sleep. Which he's managing, just about.]

It's not my best, I'll grant you that.

[His voice is laboured, breathing heavy. But hey, at least he's not dead?]

Re: i am so late sry <3

[thecanarylives]

[ The fact that the door hasn't been broken into means someone's snuck their way in, and even in a bloodied state, that's impressive. Which narrows her list of suspects down only slightly, and when her eyes settle upon the pale, bleeding hunk of man collapsed on her bathroom floor, she's only slightly surprised that it's him.

She clicks the safety on her gun and tucks it into the back of her pants, crouching down immediately and glancing him over. ]

Christ, Eames. How the hell are you still conscious? [ He's lost pints of blood by now, and it shows in the heave of his breath, the shake of his hands. The humor's gone from her face, her eyes sharp and calculating as she checks the wound at his chest. ]

What type are you? Your blood type, what is it?

shh i am the LAST person who will complain about slow tags

[falsify]

[Ah. Of all the ways to have the "by the way, I'm not human," chat, this is pretty low on the list of ways Eames expected to have it. He huffs out a wet-sounding laugh, eyes falling closed for a moment that's too long for his own comfort. It takes a real effort to open them again to look up at Sara.]

Doubt you'll find a donor for me here. [He attempts a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.] I'll be fine, just need to stop bleeding.

[Well. That's a bit of a tall order isn't it.] ... Or bleed less. A lot less.

welcome home eames?

[stauncherhearted]

She's never been to Deerland. She has absolutely no idea what hell Eames has been through. All Nancy knows is that Eames wants to see her and she's going to see him even though she's pretty sure she just saw him on Saturday. But, whatever Eames wants, Eames gets- at least according to a grumpy temper-tantrum werewolf.

With an eye-roll as she recalls her beloved's attitude this afternoon, Nancy knocks on Eames' front door before letting herself in.

"Hey," she calls into the house, before preparing for the incoming Boxer attack. He's the best boy, and can smell Bull's Eye on her before she's even fully in the house. "You wanted to see me?" He'd sounded different in his message. It was worrying to say the least.

[falsify]

Seeing the people he's close to, the people he cares about, is very important to Eames right now. The fact that it's been two years means little on its own, but two years of the shit Deerington put him through? Let's just say it's no surprise his mother is visiting soon.

Right now there's Nancy. Nancy who even gets an odd reaction from Boxer, the rottweiler coming close and sniffing at her cautiously instead of all but leaping on her like normal.

He knows it's out of character the second he moves toward Nancy, and that it'll seem more than a little odd from her point of view — can't have been more than a few days from Nancy's perspective — but Eames doesn't care. He's glad to see her, doesn't answer her question in words so much as he pulls her close so he can put his arms tightly around her.

[stauncherhearted]

Something is very wrong.

Eames doesn't hug people. Eames accepts her mortal displays of affection begrudgingly. He doesn't offer them up.

She winces under his arms, shifting to get a better position to return his hug. "Hey, now," she says gently into him. "What's going on?" She almost wants to make a joke, ask if it's really him or if he's been replaced by some sort of something or other (but really she didn't have time to play the "one of us always lies, one of us always tells the truth" games nor did she remember the answer to that particular riddle), but this feels so different. And she wants to make it better.

[falsify]

"Can't I just be happy to see you?" Eames asks, intoning it as a joke. He pulls back a little, just enough to look down at her with an easy smile and brush some of her hair back.

It's just good to see her again, back at home and in one piece. There's nothing wrong with that.