Erato

[All hotels have a kitchen, and Lacus has found this one to be especially lovely. Well stocked, clean stainless steel appliances; the perfect place to have some fun practicing.]

[Donning an adorable apron that she finds hanging nearby, Lacus gets to work. Soon she's weaving the lattice top to her cherry pie and placing it lovingly in the oven.]

[Turns out she made a bit too much filling, but surely there's something she can do with it.]

[After making sure to gently fold her nightshirt and place it in the small overnight bag Neil had brought for her, Lacus turns to him with a smile. She fingers the lovely scarf he got her that's wrapping her neck; it feels much better, but she knows the lingering discoloration troubles him.]

I believe that's everything.

Damn. [The entire room reeks of alcohol. Bottles and cans are strewn messily across the floor, drawers have been left open, and what might have once been a clean and royally red bedroom lies in ruins. Bed sheets have been pulled, curtains torn open, pictures tilted awkwardly against the wall...and somewhere amidst that mess is Axel. He's sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the foot of the bed, one leg stretched out long and the other pulled to his chest, though as normal a position this is for him, his current condition is anything but. Eyes appear bleak and tired, his coat is halfway unzipped and hanging lopsided off one shoulder--

And that collar. That stupid thing he'd woken up with around his neck. The one thing that's more than likely causing him to feel a spike of pleasure every time he feels a spike of pain. Even when he burned the pages out of those empty notebooks, hm. The pleasure was still there. Is he being fooled with again? Left in this maze, expected to tunnel his way out? It's grown tighter since he awoke, but at the moment he's in no position to try and fix that. So, now with a half empty bottle in hand, a headache, and a weary smirk on his face, Axel can only wait.]

...Mmn. Man.

((ooc: I know it's a stretch, but he's somehow ok with it. So...a friend of mine and I came to the conclusion that my Axel muse, aside from being angry, is in heat. One thing led to another and now he's drunk and he's ripped apart a room. ...Please do something before he kills himself.))

[This time is different. Lacus can feel it in the still air, the silence. In the slim collar that encircles her throat. Still, her time here, in the past, held fond memories; a bit of cool metal against her neck and an apparent lack of company isn't enough to concern her. Different, after all, did not mean bad.]

[Not yet prepared to settle into one of the plush rooms and wait, she walks the corridors barefoot, her long white dress flowing around her. Surely, someone must be here.]


((OOC: Remember that slave-event with the collars that take commands? ^_^ The opposite party will instinctively know the commands: pain, pleasure, sleep... and feel free to add any other commands as you like, but the duration of a single command lasts only a few seconds to a few minutes. No other limits!))

[The air here feels thick, just a little difficult to catch her breath. There's a twinge of tension, too, but not in an objectionable way, necessarily. Though enough to make Lacus seek refuge somewhere she could relax.]

[She's never seen a bath so beautiful. The scale of it is impressive and yet it feels intimate, inviting; even the haze of steam somehow fits her mood. A towel wrapped around her midsection (because this seems a public place, even if she's not yet found any company) and her hair twisted up and pinned to the crown of her head, she settles herself into one of the full tubs. Her contented sigh echoes over the tile as the bath does indeed have the effect she hoped for.]

((OOC: Open to aaaanyone at all~ She has memories from Marina Asylum but not prior DR threads. Help me appease the loud muse?))

[Lockon woke up in the lobby of the hotel, with a pounding headache and blurry vision in his one eye. Clutching his head, he sat up, a bit surprised by the fact there was gravity, and that he was missing his helmet. The space suit creaked and groaned as he moved, craning his head to take in his surroundings. Something pressed into his neck, under the black skin-tight top he wore, but he just thought the collar of his suit was too tight.]

[He looked a bit like death warmed over - which was more true than he knew - and even with his head clear all he could do was look around in a bit of a stupor. How did he get here? And why did it feel like he had been put in the spin cycle?]

Ne... hello? [He called out, not knowing who or what to expect.]

(( OOC: AU version of Lockon / Neil Dylandy - pretty much dropped here on his death instead of in Marina. Just for my curiosity~ If you want to torture him some, too, just ask! ))

[What adorable clothing Lacus found herself wearing! The plaid, pleated skirt was shorter than her usual one which made it easier to move around, and the thigh-high white stockings kept her from being too cold. Her button-down shirt had the most fun pink ribbons, too. Matching ones tied her hair in two bouncy pigtails that sway around her hips as she walked down the hallway, singing softly to herself.]

[Now, if only she could find Pink. Or someone to talk to.]