falin touden (
yourlenore) wrote in
crescentview2023-02-01 01:02 pm
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Fall Catchall
Who: Mishka & friends
What: Bingo, Arco Lunar, misc.
When: Fall
Where: Out & About
Warnings: ???
stand up with my palms full of soil & rosary
bruised rosary
blooming rosary
maybe I just need to smoke more & stretch & eat frivolous things &
anyway
I’m working on it
trahearne
Accept how you feel without judgment, Kaspar had said. This is difficult, because feeling itself is vulnerable.
Well, Adelis has Syrlya, and Adelis will have to hope he will have more than just Syrlya soon enough, and that is that.
Trahearne meets Mishka two mimosas in and generally cheery. He's a little tipsy, but generally himself, and he suggests his date—the one by the one he'd been won by—had come apart in some organic way, so why not walk, and talk? He is fortunately quite agreeable in his manner, as always, and when the suggestion of the spa & massage is floated, he finds himself enthusiastic to try it (well, try anything, really).
For what it's worth, it does improve his mood a significant amount. The attendants' hands work into him with technique that leaves even his insects content and hush. By the time they finish their work, he feels sore, but satisfied.
Assuming this is a couples' massage for perhaps obvious reasons, Mishka's body is notable for both its scars (perhaps expected for someone who knew a life of combat) and for the black, leaf-like veins that web outward from his chest and down along his limbs and body, the marks a fainter charcoal-grey the further from the source they run. There is a faint impression of his bones in black where the veins run, as if they've drawn the bones to press up against the skin, leaving marks.
They're likely to just be weird tattoos, certainly.
Mishka sits up as his masseuse finishes their work, stretching with a satisfied sound. Perhaps he should have visited this place before he tried the mimosas. )
Well, that wasn't so bad at all. How did you like it?
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1/3 :)
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oops adds nsfw warning
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a mishka & syrlya & flynn walk into a bar
mishka > syrlya > flynn
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...
syrlya
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mishka, bonding massages
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syrlya, now with actual bar
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syrlya
He seems the same as ever, which is generally deceptive. In one hand, he has a nicely-bundled up bag. It smells good enough, in the edible way. )
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yuri
He's only got a handful left, so camping in the mountains happened to be one such remaining contender. Tents set up, campfire crackling now that it's gotten a bit darker... and Mishka's returning with some freshly-caught game. He'd packed some meat and veggies to cook already, but... )
Do you like rabbit? It just doesn't quite feel like camping without a bit of hunting.
( ... yeah. Finding safe game to eat was kind of hit or miss back home, but it was sometimes necessary when your job asked you to travel lightly and furtively. Besides, he enjoys it.
Noticeably, though, Mishka has not gone near the fire since it was set up. He's quite good at making it seem pretty natural in the way he paths his walk, but it's not tough to figure out with a bit of thinking. Especially not with how he sets up a little station between the tents with his flashlight to start prepping the ingredients, both prepared and hunted, instead of near the fire. )
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achilles
They've probably managed to get the batter ingredients dumped in a bowl, at this point glancing at the cake recipe pinned up on the wall. )
Now we mix it. I suppose a spoon will do?
( There's a line of ants dutifully marching across the wall, over the recipe, and disappearing behind the cabinets, but thus far they haven't interrupted the cooking process. They seem to break off and grab crumbs scattered too far from their work station, like polite little roombas, getting dangerously nearer each time... but they don't seem to be too much of a problem, yet. Mishka hasn't commented on them at all, as if this is normal. )
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childe
The spa was an arbitrary, but pleasant, choice; all of the activities on the ship seem equally novel, and Mishka has certainly remarked he's never traveled on a ship so large and luxurious as this one, and certainly not on the ocean (he has, at best, accompanied merchants in cargo boats along the river for a job). It is, overall, a pleasant experience.
What would not be a pleasant experience is his thoughts quite suddenly being broadcasted via thought bubbles, just as they wrap up their couples massage treatment, and the staff ushers them to try the menu of other services. Fortunately, the latent happiness effect is enough to offset the innate hostility this might invite: he's aware enough that his current bubble is him observing that he ought be upset about this, because he doesn't like people knowing his thoughts, but he strangely doesn't mind at present. He notes he'll have to reflect on this later. )
... Well, this particular quirk aside, was there anything else on the spa's menu that appeals to you?
( Mishka sits up on the table lazily, wrapping himself up the bathrobe offered to him. Mishka's body is notable for both its scars (perhaps expected for someone who knew a life of combat) and for the black, leaf-like veins that web outward from his chest and down along his limbs and body, the marks a fainter charcoal-grey the further from the source they run. There is a faint impression of his bones in black where the veins run, as if they've drawn the bones to press up against the skin, leaving marks. )
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letters
adelis
ellis
amber
trahearne
vanitas
He has with him a little basket of some warm lemon-glazed banana bread, quilted with edible flowers, and wrapped up all cute with a tattersall pattern fabric. The bread itself is just okay and the glaze is maybe a little too sweet, but, hey, a snack is a snack. )
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ellis
(And he has grown fond of him, but that is neither here nor there.)
Sometime during the last third or so of the month, Mishka knocks on the door, as he has every day, with a nice open basket of sweet bread made with sweetened fruit, and powdered with sugar. He's not really shy about the weather or his body, but he's taken to wearing long sleeves and high collars in tandem with the steady progression of his curse.
On this evening, he wears gloves. )
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