InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "i pwn j00, k?"

Vincent (king_of_gods) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2010-08-03 18:01:00

Entry tags:

aphrodite, zeus

Who: Lia & Vince.
What: Hookah and catching up night.
Where: Hookah Lounge in No. Ho. If anyone else partakes in such things, feel free to cut in!
When: Evening.
Warnings: PG-13. These two are not surprisingly quite shameless and are capable of being obnoxious.

She knew him.

He'd never admit to, or be obvious about agreeing to anything that anyone ever asked for. E.v.e.r. Thus, he'd dodged her appeal to be provided a reward in honor of her becoming his neighbor. His kind of neighbor, that is. A few floors separated them, and that was technically neighbors, but only kind of.

The element of the pleasantly unexpected gem of surprise was to him one of man's last refuges of unselfish expression; one of our most valuable and prized possessions was to be unpredictable creatures, and to handsomely protect the object of our secret desires to please other's feelings. A Merlin, bone-like box at the back of a cave somewhere held the secrets to the universe on a scroll, having read them, he can state with certainty that one of them was: Always give great gifts.

Sadly, he wasn't so cloak and dagger as he could be. People who knew him, knew well his generosity. He was in fact one of the most dependably benevolent and ample creatures strolling the Earth in a black t-shirt, gray jeans, and red chucks. She may have been only kidding, but he didn't give a fuck. She asked for something pretty and he got her a very suitably elegant, yet borderline dangerous dress which was somewhat understated, but when worn by her would be (hopefully) voluptuously overdone. She could try it on later.

They drove out all the way out to North Hollywood to have themselves some hookah in a joint with dim lights, mostly blood red, and couches outside. They were surrounded by people seemingly of the same agenda. By the hints he caught of other peoples conversations here and there, it appeared the ritualistic endeavor of smoking and eating was an undeniably successful tool in chasing after memories which often times grow more and more obscure as minutes, hours, weeks, months pass with no obligation to recall them...

"What's weird," he'd said, skimming the minty tobacco menu. "Is that I kinda feel like I'm supposed to be here. You feel me? In the building, that is." he tapped spearmint. "I want that, unless you want some girly fruit flavor."

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philommeides
2010-08-04 03:23 am UTC (link)

"Not at all," she grinned at him. "That sounds refreshing and delicious."

It was nice to be here with Xander. Despite living relatively close to each other over the past few years, there was nothing like living in the same building; being around the corner. The dress he'd brought her had been a surprise, but also (though he'd never admit it), so typical of him. Whatever else he was, Vincent Alexander Laurent was prince to the people he loved; which was just one more reason to love him. The thought made her smile. Since they'd first met, it had been obvious. Of course it had helped that they'd first met because he'd rescued you from a pretty awful situation, but it had been enough to spark what she strongly suspected would be a lifelong friendship. At the very least, it had been going strong for eight years, now.

His previous comment, though, was something she couldn't help but nod to, even after the fact. Once he'd given their attendant their order, she leaned in to agree with him.

"I definitely feel you," she said. "It's bizarre. Since the first time I came to see you, it was all I could think about. I would dream about it. That apartment I'm in. Decorating it," she laughed. She smoothed out the dress she was wearing - something summery, pretty, light aqua, suited to her coloring. With the tiniest grin, she asked, "So how's life in the penthouse, Vincent Alexander? What have you been up to up there?"

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king_of_gods
2010-08-04 03:48 am UTC (link)

"And also a plate of hummus." he'd dashed to the attention of the server, finger up, before they took their leave into the obscurity of seeing to their order. He leaned back as comfortable in his environment and snug, as a King upon his thrown being praised or begged for mercy. The cushions were sinking and deep, providing a good angle to shamelessly watch the waitress scuttle away with her short skirt. He minded not that Lia was, of course, being an intelligent and cunning creature, going to catch on to the wanderings of his eyes, even as his attention was very much undivided to her, and solely. "Honey is living with me." said he, rummaging through a few of his memories; or were those skeletons in his closet? "She's tolerable. She's not a gold digging bitch. She's plenty amusing when she wants to be." his fingers steepled, rested neatly on his torso.

He paused... there were a few other things plaguing him, which he took note and inventory of. Lia was good as a confessional booth. She should've been a Catholic priest. Though, he wondered how she'd be able to hide that perfect geometry of hers underneath the flattened ugliness of even a priestly uniform.

"My old friends are all living in the building, what the fuck right? Roy, the one I told you about, the one who hates me? There. Ex? There. Paul? There. It's like high school and college all over again, version 2.0, LIFE. And here I am, a big fuckin' jerk for wanting everyone to get along, right? Why can't everyone just do what I want them to? Their lives would be so much easier."

Ah, he also appreciated the fact that she understood the dryness of his humor. She was one of the people he could be real with. He was beginning to feel lucky she was here.

"You're more interesting than me. It's your turn."