driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Tek and anyone!
Broadcast: Video
Action: Beachside lounging
When: Early August

→ video
[the video feed flicks on to the glare of the sun, until the (absurdly) pretty man wielding the device leans back into the shade. he seems to be starting this broadcast mid-thought, and--for anyone who knows him well enough to spot the difference--he's smiling quite easily.]

--Oh, now I remember. I'd wanted to ask if there were any fine metalsmiths in the fleet. I'd intended to ask the next locals we happened across for their services, but... well. Metalworking does not seem to be among their most refined skills.

I'm looking for someone trustworthy and proficient in jewelry-making. I have several options for payment. If interested, please reply.

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[and with that matter done with, he settles back to wait in high comfort. for anyone happening by, he has found the absolute perfect spot along the shoreline. there is a stretch of clean, soft sand with an impeccable view of the ocean, tucked into the patchy, partial shade of a small stand of trees.

and he must be feeling better than usual, because he's actually wearing something that Atroma has given him--gothy-looking shorts that he has drawstringed to hang just a little off his hips--and he is sacrificing multiple layers of beach towels and blankets to the sand. he apparently doesn't care whether or not he'll ever get the sand out of them again.

Tek has made himself the most comfortable basking spot on the planet, and he has left more than enough room for a friend.

he knows that Atroma is messing with his head, but he can't find it within himself to be bothered right now. he even has a little brush and bottle of lovely dark maroon ink that he's staining his nails with. someone is glitched and enjoying every minute of it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ladon's been busy both on the shore and off of it. The smell he carries with him today-- briny waters and shellfish-- is an indication that he's spent the afternoon on a boat of some sort. There's physical evidence of all the time he's spent in the sun, too, showing on his face and arms, especially with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the bicep. He has far more color than normal, including a fresh spray of freckles under his green eyes.

He's carrying his shoes in his hand, barefoot on the powdery sand. It's a nice treat. He'd likely lose a toe or two if he attempted this on Nieve's beaches.

He settles down near Tek, enough that he's giving the other dragon his own space but is certainly close enough for conversation. He takes a cigarette out of his silver case, pops it between his lips, but doesn't light it just yet. He bobs his head in Tek's direction, both greeting him and silently asking permission to smoke. ]

Gonna do your toes too?

Edited 2015-08-04 03:12 (UTC)

The sun looks good on you.

[--because, though he still would have complimented him on any other day, the glitching piece of technology in his head makes it just that much easier. and it must also be permission for the other to smoke, because he only sits up properly and scoots over a little closer.

some other time, he would have complained about the smell of the smoke getting in his hair, but he doesn't care today.]

You want me to do yours too? [--wagging the little bottle of ink at him.]

Thanks. [ He isn't expecting a compliment and thus his smile is a bit on the sheepish side. He ducks his head and goes about lighting his cigarette, thankful that it gives him a distraction as well as the calming effect of the act of smoking triggers. It's a good way to hop over that initial awkward hurdle. After all, he's a little more comfortable around Tek now but he's still not on the level of trust he's had with other dragons.

Not yet, anyway.

He does chuckle a bit at the offer. ] Don't think red's my color, yeah? [ His wardrobe rarely strays from shades of gray and brown after all. ] 'Sides, I'd just go messin' 'em up in no time.

[and, as is his way, Tek swings right into behaving as if they've been friends for years, as if they're perfectly comfortable around each other. he hardly needs a glitch for that.]

Oh, I think it would wonderful on you, actually. Especially with it being a cool color, and all.

And it really is a great way to just relax for a few minutes.

[he motions for a hand, as if he's really not intending on taking no for an answer.]

...Besides, it's just ink. I'm sure it will wash right off.

[ Well, he can't really tell a fellow dragon no. And while Ladon's bought into male roles on a superficial level, he's not sold on them all the way down to his lizardy core. His fingers are calloused, his palms scarred, and his nails aren't exactly shaped or cared for, but if Tek insists... He offers up a hand, then, trying not to imagine if the ink decides to stick around for months to come. ]

Yeah, yeah, all right. Only 'cuz it's you though, yeah?

[ There's bit if teasing to that comment, but it's also very true. He can't think of anyone else in this fleet who could convince him to get a red manicure. ]

[yeah, Tek had been lying about the easily-washing-off part. it won't remain a vibrant red lacquer for long, but it will probably leave behind a lovely rose-pink stain for days. oops.

and oh, if only Tek had been wearing his female face right then--it would have perfectly complimented the demure, teasing look he glances up with as he takes Ladon's hand.]

Goodness, you make me sound so special.

[the smile is shortlived, though. the state of the other dragon's nails is a bit of a mood-killer.]

...Do you have a knife on you?

[ He wouldn't be willing to wear a dress, but pink nails are subtle enough that he's not going to get too humiliated. Ladon huffs a bit at Tek's tease, and he might be blushing just a bit. But he totally plays it off with a shrug.

And the question about a knife is easily answered. He takes a little leather sheath out of his shoe, where it was tucked in with his socks and then produces a switchblade, which he opens before handing it over by the hilt. ] Always. Don't trust those zappy pea-shooters Atroma went givin' us to use, yeah?

You seemed like the type. [--to always carry a knife, he means.

and with said knife, he begins to daintily pick at the imperfections and smooth out the edges of Ladon's nails. his hands will look lovely in no time.]

...Your poor nails. You've been working so much on this world, there's been no time to clean them up at all?

[ He shrugs at that comment. Much as he plays it off, anyone who gets close enough to Ladon can likely tell he's used to violence. It's rubbed off on him almost like a scent would, hidden behind the smile and the gentlemanly behavior. He's not ashamed of it, not really. City life has made him this way, and he's survived because of it.

He watches Tek work for a few moments before glancing back out at the sea and watching the waves stroke the sands of the beach in front of them. ]

Never really paid much attention to 'em, yeah? Fussin' over 'em's more what dames do in Nieve. Only went learnin' how to act like a fella.

'Dames...'

[the word gets him smirking. the various terms for women, worlds-wide, will never cease to amuse him--and this one in particular has tickled him quite a bit. a word for such a specific and lofty rank, and always said in the most casual, improper ways possible.

the rest of it makes him laugh too.]

That's very human of you, don't you think?

[he asks it lightly enough, still smiling, while his eyes remain down on Ladon's nails. and he sets the knife daintily aside to switch to ink and brush. here comes the color...]

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