Vicious (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goodolfashionedvillain) wrote2030-02-01 04:42 pm
goodolfashionedvillain) wrote2030-02-01 04:42 pm† RYSLIG- IC INBOX †
INBOX
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transilience
goodolfashionedvillain) wrote2030-02-01 04:42 pm
transilience
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[He hangs up his keys, walking in quite casually, starting to take off his belt immediately.]
Found a cheap restaurant I haven't been to before. Tried their special.
It's called, "Vicious is a Bad Liar".
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Wow. Was it any good?
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Nah. Didn't taste as described on the menu.
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[Tilting his head back and to the side, leering over his shoulder.]
What did it taste like?
[Slooowly sliding the belt off his shoulder to loop it in his free hand.]
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Like bullshit, and whatever else you're burning in here.
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This isn't fair, Vicious thinks, lips pursing in a pout, doing his best to pretend that he's definitely not enjoying this view or the precarious positioning of the nymph's hands.]
Ah. Well. That sounds awful.
[He glances elsewhere, but with those featureless white eyes of his, it's likely hard to tell.]
...You're sure you didn't just order your toast, er. Well done?
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But that's okay. He's very purposely patting Vicious's cheek, too.]
Why's the window open?
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I'm... smoking? [The quirk of a brow adding that unspoken "Obviously."]
Why would I leave the window closed? We always open it when we smoke.
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[He reaches over to take Vicious's wrist, lifting it so he can take a drag off the same cigarette. Health be damned.
He then starts to lean away, toward the window, to blow out the smoke.]
Guess I'll just check the kitchen, then.
Make sure nothing's still burning.
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On the other, he hates how Fearless always manages to corner him like this. He's pretty sure if anything is left over, it's just a pot and few ashes... they should have all gone down the drain though!
He hopes.]
Alright. By all means.
[Scoffs and crosses his legs, turning his attention to the window again. He has to look unbothered. He's totally unbothered!]
So, where were you really?
[Yeah let's put the spotlight on Fearless! He seems just as suspicious!]
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[Sauntering over to the kitchen, Spike adds;]
Y'know the horses around here have hands?
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Horses don't have hands. Centaurs have hands. Satyrs, perhaps, if they're horses, but not horses.
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Kelpies. They can be horses.
And they can have hands.
Worst thing I've ever seen.
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Right. And... did you see one of these before or after you nodded off on a public bench?
[Is this another giant crab situation?]
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[Spike takes the time to inspect that pot, and the sink. There's something suspicious here...]
Turned into a teenage girl.
Can't figure out why they're the only ones who ever wanna fight me.
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You're really getting too old for that, you know.
[Passing a super casual glance back to see if he's looking. And ugh, he is.]
"Can't figure it out"? Teenage girls have all sorts of pent up rage. Surely you remember that much.
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Why'd'they all gotta take it out on me?
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[Trying so hard not to react to what he's found... let's just turn back towards the window again. Nothing to see here. So not bothered.]
And I mean, this time you did technically ask for it.
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[Don't mind him sauntering over with that little cauldron to put it on the smoking table in front of Vicious.]
You usually make toast in a pot?