ernestina basile (ernestina) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2012-07-19 23:53:00 |
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The outfit wasn’t so bad. In all honesty, it wasn’t the worst thing that Damien had ever been made to wear. The black pants were a little too tight, and the dark green shirt would’ve been acceptable on its own but the black fitted vest? Yikes. Damien had no idea where the clothes had come from, and wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to ask Karim. He’d insisted on keeping the scruffy start of a beard that he had from a few days of no shaving, and his hair was elegantly tousled. Bed-look, sort of. Damien wasn’t quite sure. After Karim had left he’d sat around, clicking his way around the funny things that the other students said on the network and singing idly. “You can check out any time you like! But you can never leaaaaave!” he sang the words softly, grinning. He took a look at himself in the mirror, still unsure about it all. He ruffled a hand through his hair once more, making it that little bit messier, and laughed at himself. He was ridiculous, but he was happy. IVI life wasn’t so bad, it seemed. Even if he couldn’t leave, he hadn’t felt much of a sense of foreboding since the first day. Everyone was such fun, and Damien felt almost constantly entertained by the various shenanigans. He would laugh at almost everything, amused by all the goings-on both in the journals and in the real world. It wasn’t everyday that one got to be a mutant and have a whale of a time, after all. He picked up his guitar, strumming his way through the intro to Hotel California and in his concentration he almost didn’t hear that there was someone at the door. Ernestina was a little annoyed that they'd ended their conversation on the network with him insulting her name, but she wanted to be sure that Karim had done a good job on fixing up Damien, and she thought that since her hair was already done she might as well just change in Damien's room and finish her makeup there, too. So she carried her pretty green dress with her makeup and accessories in a large purse, heading up to Damien's room. She bumped the door open with her hip and stalked in. "Oh," she said, studying Damien from behind. The clothes, from that angle, seemed suitable. She nodded thoughtfully. "You don't look horrible," she told him, as she was still out of humor at him. Damien, quick to pick up on signals that could be heard in tone of voice, put the guitar down without trying to sing again. “Ernestina,” he told her, making a sincere effort to show that he liked and could use her real name. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, novia?” he asked her, smiling over at her. He caught sight of her expression and pouted heavily. “You know you can’t be angry at me!” he insisted. He glanced in the mirror once again and attempted to flatten his hair a little, to no avail. “Hey, I didn’t mean it, you know?” he asked, shooting a look back at her. “I just thought novia was cute.” "Oh, ho, ho," she said, waving her hand at him before she tossed her things on the bed she assumed was his. She appreciated his compliment, but that wasn't going to placate her right away. "You don't know me very well if you think I can't be angry at you." She walked over to him and dusted off his shoulders even though he didn't need it. "Why shouldn't I think you mean it? You try to give me a thousand nicknames in one breath." She was already regretting responding with the proper feminine version of the name. But it was far better than 'Ernie.' "Karim seems to have done a good job," she said. "Now turn around." She nudged his shoulder. Damien’s pout grew, his mouth drooping in sadness and his eyes wide and pleading. “Come on you can’t stay angry with me forever!” he insisted. He refused to turn around, even if she was going to try push him around. “Tell me you forgive me and I’ll turn around!” he told her quickly. If she objected to the nicknames so much then he could stop, Damien reasoned, but he wasn’t going to concede that point just yet. He found her ruffled pride when he called her a stupid name oddly endearing, but annoying Ernestina wasn’t something that was high on his list of priorities. "This has been ten minutes," she said cattily. "It hasn't been forever." She pushed at his shoulder, trying to get him to move. Her lips pursed and her brow furrowed as she pushed harder at his shoulder. "Maybe I'll forgive you after you turn around. Did you think about that?" She pushed him once again. “Why’ve I gotta turn around?” Damien asked her, but he conceded shortly after the words left his lips. He turned his back to her, though he couldn’t help glancing in the mirror on the wall in case she was still visible. His pout gone, he just smiled a little. “I bet you could hold a grudge, though,” he admitted. “I can’t, not for shit. I forget why I hate someone and end up asking them to come out and have fun.” Damien talked, not entirely sure of the relevance of his words but keen to talk to her anyway. "Because I want to see if you look guapo," said Ernestina. She was pleased that he did as she said and she looped an arm around his waist once he was done. "Ah, querido, you really do not know my powers when it comes to remembering slights. But hopefully you'll remember that I do have this power," she said, removing her arm from around him to tug at his hair. "I'm not surprised you forget," she said. "You seem too happy to remember things like that." She moved to the door and closed it, then to his bed. She stripped off her shirt and jeans without hesitation, not caring if he watched or not and not bothering to expedite the process, before slipping her dress on. Damien hadn’t quite expected her to just change in his room, but then it was Ernestina. Her attitude was one of the greatest things he’d encountered at his short time at IVI. He gave her a lop-sided grin as she looped her arm around him, and then tried to sort of his hair with a nervous hand after she pulled it and went to change. He didn’t protest, and instead just grinned awkwardly. He picked up the guitar and clutched it in his hands, staring down at it and idly starting to try tune it up a bit better as she changed her clothes. When she had the dress on, however, he looked up and let out a wolf-whistle. “Niiiice,” he told her, and gave her a thumbs up before returning his attention to the guitar. It wouldn’t be polite to stare, he assumed, although he did give her one more lingering look before he resumed his focus on the instrument. She touched her chignon to make sure it was still in place before wandering over to Damien. "Zip," she said. At least it wasn't in an overwhelmingly commanding voice. Ernestina wondered if he had watched her or not, but assumed he had. His complimentary attitude only served to make her a shade warmer. "Quierdo, I need to hear you play so I can decide to back out or not. Okay?" Damien obeyed without questioning, and he placed one hand lightly on her hip before zipping up her dress for her. He gave another wolf-whistle, this one slower and with laughter in his expression. She knew that she looked amazing, and that was one of the greatest things about Ernestina. He didn’t appreciate false modesty, and found her honesty refreshing and appealing. “As m’lady commands,” he joked, moving his hand and standing back from her. Damien went to stand before her and picked up the guitar. He plucked at a few strings, testing the tuning. It never seemed quite right, but it was close enough at this point. He took a moment to glance up at her, and smiled bashfully as he caught her eyes. He didn’t play for people that he knew, more comfortable with the judgement of strangers. But he couldn’t say no to her, and he frowned a little as he launched into playing the song. He hummed through the introduction, getting a feel for the notes in his voice. His voice had a small range, but hit notes well in the middle area. He started to play his own version of Springsteen’s Thunder Road for her, eyes fluttering shut as he concentrated. He only played for half a verse, unable to resist looking at her to see if she liked it or not. He finished abruptly, leaving the song hanging after one line; ”Show a little faith there's magic in the night.” He relaxed and laughed softly. “Go on, be brutal,” he told her. He wasn’t the worst player ever, and his voice sounded pleasant in songs that fitted his range. “I know you want to!” Ernestina laughed at his second wolf-whistle. "What are you?" she asked, poking at his shoulder. "Are you part beast? Is there something I should know about?" Even though she found him a little annoying at times, she liked that he always seemed to make her laugh. When he stepped back she returned to sit on his bed and she leaned back as she watched him, studying him with a long, lingering and judging gaze. Judging as she was, she did nod as he played and sang. He wasn't a budding rock star, but he would do well enough in the show. Well enough so that she would sit beside him and play the tambourine. "It's good enough," she said. "Not horrible. If you beg me then I'll be willing to play the tambourine." She pointed at the floor next to her legs. Damien shot her a look, wondering how serious she was about begging. He frowned and placed the guitar down on the bed beside him, thinking of how best to tackle this latest challenge. Always one to rise to the occasion, he stepped in front of her and while he didn’t kneel to beg he still took her hand. Holding one of her hands gently in both of his, he looked her in the eye with complete seriousness. “Ernestina, novia,” he started, voice solemn. “Would you please, please look your wonderful self and play with me tonight? I shall hope to make you look wonderful, not that you need help,” he grinned at the end of his small speech, unable to keep up his serious act for long. “If you do not, I feel that I shall be heartbroken and will never recover.” She hadn't really expected him to do it, and certainly not with such flourish. She had to laugh, tossing her hair back before she looked back up at him. "With such an earnest plea, I think that I might be convinced," she said. "And while I might have left hearts in shatters before, you're far too amusing for me to break in just one week's time." She looped her arms around his waist and tugged him closer. "I'll have plenty of time for that." Damien shook his head, still smiling wider than ever, and allowed her to pull him closer. “Aw, I don’t believe you,” he insisted. “Like I said, you couldn’t be angry at me forever!” Damien was close to her now, and while he didn’t have many qualms about being comfortable with people he hesitated at the impulse to put his arms around her in turn. He did so, though it was a slow and careful movement. “Heartbreaker, I believe that,” he admitted, amused by the idea. “I don’t think you could turn me into a heartbroken mess, though,” he smiled through the words "If I wanted to be angry at you forever then I would be," she said. "Some things are simple for me, and that is one of them. Especially if you do something to upset me. So if you like having your 'novia' around, you'd better keep that in mind." She slid her hands to rest on his bottom, giving him a significant look. She didn't see any reason to be shy. Ernestina felt certain enough that she'd wind up having sex with him, and she might as well let him know it. "Never say never, quiderdo," she said, taking one hand to pull him down enough to kiss on the cheek. "And never say I didn't warn you." Damien pursed his lips as she got a little handsier, and his head tilted to one side. “I consider myself warned, but not afraid,” he told her, secretly thrilled as she went to kiss him on the cheek. He didn’t move from where she’d pulled him closer, catching her eye as he spoke to her. “So you don’t mind if I-” he wiggled his eyebrows quickly, and then closed the gap between them with a surprisingly hesitant kiss. She didn't, actually, but there was no time to respond. In any case, she'd rather let her body speak for her. She kissed him confidently, a bit surprised and, to be perfectly honest, disappointed by his hesitance. Ernestina thought that perhaps she shouldn't be too hard on him, since at least he had made a move, but she was nothing if not critical when it came to certain things. "I hope you're not always that hesitant," she said when they broke apart. Damien shrugged his shoulders. “Is that a challenge?” he asked. “Because I was just trying to be nice,” he told her. He didn’t move away just yet, instead looking down at her with raised eyebrows. Ernestina was difficult to decipher at times, even though it may have seemed like a simple criticism on the surface he couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking about. She shrugged, too. "Something of one," she said. Ernestina wasn't really sure how to respond to his comment about just trying to be nice, so she was quiet for a moment. "I wanted you to kiss me, so however you did it would have been nice," she said. Damien felt that it was more of a challenge than she seemed to admit, and so pulled her closer and ducked down to kiss her again. This time he was determined, unwilling to let her think anything other than that he was doing what he wanted and what she had challenged him to do. He wouldn’t let a challenge go unmet, and saw no harm in rising to this one. When he finally broke that contact he grinned down at her. “We should get going,” he told her. |