Post by Netreemic on Dec 1, 2011 23:03:01 GMT -6
[Well, throwing in some more dudes to mingle~]
Ilari breathed out a deep, highly annoyed, sigh and fought down the urge to fidget. Absalon smiled at the sudden puff against his forehead but he kept looping his friend’s tie with a quiet murmur, “Stop that. This is taking all my concentration. You don’t want this looking like a knotted mess, do you?”
“I’m fine with it looking like nothing,” Ilari grunted in reply, rolling a shoulder in a slow shrug. “I have no interest in some fancy shindig, so I don’t need this tie.” However, he dutifully stood still as Absalon restarted the process. No matter how much he complained, Ilari couldn’t deny he was moderately curious as to who had sent his buddy an invitation to a ball. And if it was someone with bad intentions, he intended on persuading them to rethink their decision.
“There.” Absalon patted the satin strip – now perfectly tied – and took a step back to view his handiwork. Grinning, he gave Ilari a wink. “Now all those ladies won’t think you’re some homeless guy who snuck in for the food.” Ilari’s good eye twitched, his usual glower deepening. He really should have known this would become a matchmaking trip.
“Look, just because you’ve got some secret admirer-“ he started, shoulders hunching within his dress shirt when Jören flounced in. Both men turned to stare – Absalon with a wide-eyed, happy tilt of his head and Ilari looking far more flabbergasted – at the twirling mass of light blue silk ruffles.
“Okay, seriously, we’re gonna be late if you boys take any longer primping.” Jören cocked his hip, normal slimness hidden beneath the sheer amount of fabric bursting from the bottom of the corseted top, and absently flicked a loose strand of hair back behind his ear. “I tied myself into this thing faster than you could tie two ties…” pale features scrunched suddenly in mock disgust, “that really isn’t your color.”
Ilari’s back shot straight, easily riled. Especially by Absalon’s utterly creeptastic little friend. “Says the washed out version of Cinderella,” he snarked in return, a protective hand resting against the deep, dark green of his shirt. It didn’t help that the morbid little schmuck actually looked and sounded convincingly feminine…and rocked that dress. “Surprised you didn’t hunt down Miss America and wear her inst-”
“C’mon guys,” Absalon interrupted, linking arms with both and speeding them towards the door. “Let’s just have a nice night, okay?”
-----------------------
Absalon twirled the wineglass between his hands, scarred fingers tapping manically against the spinning glass as his eyes darted over the dance floor below. “Looks like Jören has a growing pool of dance partners.”
Ilari cast a disinterested glance at the mass of people below, knowing his friend wasn’t really thinking about the increasing man-harem. “You know, your mystery person might not show while I’m sitting here with you.” Absalon’s head jerked back around, uncharacteristic seriousness tightening his face.
“Don’t- I’d really rather not wait alone…” He shrugged, swirled his wine one last time, and then leaned to rest his chin on his hand. “Not that this isn’t absolutely absurd. You know me,” he traded a look with Ilari and whirled his finger next to his ear for ‘coo-coo,’ “fat chance I’d know them even if I knew them.”
“Well, at least there’s booze,” Ilari raised his glass in salute, a tiny smirk curling his lip. “Not a complete waste.”
[I’ve got plans for ‘Loni (feel free to sidetrack him if you’d like though), but Jören and Ilari are fair game~ Should you care to have Messrs. Creepy and Grouchy be in your chara’s vicinity lemme know *shrug*]
Ilari breathed out a deep, highly annoyed, sigh and fought down the urge to fidget. Absalon smiled at the sudden puff against his forehead but he kept looping his friend’s tie with a quiet murmur, “Stop that. This is taking all my concentration. You don’t want this looking like a knotted mess, do you?”
“I’m fine with it looking like nothing,” Ilari grunted in reply, rolling a shoulder in a slow shrug. “I have no interest in some fancy shindig, so I don’t need this tie.” However, he dutifully stood still as Absalon restarted the process. No matter how much he complained, Ilari couldn’t deny he was moderately curious as to who had sent his buddy an invitation to a ball. And if it was someone with bad intentions, he intended on persuading them to rethink their decision.
“There.” Absalon patted the satin strip – now perfectly tied – and took a step back to view his handiwork. Grinning, he gave Ilari a wink. “Now all those ladies won’t think you’re some homeless guy who snuck in for the food.” Ilari’s good eye twitched, his usual glower deepening. He really should have known this would become a matchmaking trip.
“Look, just because you’ve got some secret admirer-“ he started, shoulders hunching within his dress shirt when Jören flounced in. Both men turned to stare – Absalon with a wide-eyed, happy tilt of his head and Ilari looking far more flabbergasted – at the twirling mass of light blue silk ruffles.
“Okay, seriously, we’re gonna be late if you boys take any longer primping.” Jören cocked his hip, normal slimness hidden beneath the sheer amount of fabric bursting from the bottom of the corseted top, and absently flicked a loose strand of hair back behind his ear. “I tied myself into this thing faster than you could tie two ties…” pale features scrunched suddenly in mock disgust, “that really isn’t your color.”
Ilari’s back shot straight, easily riled. Especially by Absalon’s utterly creeptastic little friend. “Says the washed out version of Cinderella,” he snarked in return, a protective hand resting against the deep, dark green of his shirt. It didn’t help that the morbid little schmuck actually looked and sounded convincingly feminine…and rocked that dress. “Surprised you didn’t hunt down Miss America and wear her inst-”
“C’mon guys,” Absalon interrupted, linking arms with both and speeding them towards the door. “Let’s just have a nice night, okay?”
-----------------------
Absalon twirled the wineglass between his hands, scarred fingers tapping manically against the spinning glass as his eyes darted over the dance floor below. “Looks like Jören has a growing pool of dance partners.”
Ilari cast a disinterested glance at the mass of people below, knowing his friend wasn’t really thinking about the increasing man-harem. “You know, your mystery person might not show while I’m sitting here with you.” Absalon’s head jerked back around, uncharacteristic seriousness tightening his face.
“Don’t- I’d really rather not wait alone…” He shrugged, swirled his wine one last time, and then leaned to rest his chin on his hand. “Not that this isn’t absolutely absurd. You know me,” he traded a look with Ilari and whirled his finger next to his ear for ‘coo-coo,’ “fat chance I’d know them even if I knew them.”
“Well, at least there’s booze,” Ilari raised his glass in salute, a tiny smirk curling his lip. “Not a complete waste.”
[I’ve got plans for ‘Loni (feel free to sidetrack him if you’d like though), but Jören and Ilari are fair game~ Should you care to have Messrs. Creepy and Grouchy be in your chara’s vicinity lemme know *shrug*]