ɱɑʀiɛ (coveted) wrote in summerview, @ 2019-03-13 07:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | gregory veillatif, player: anne, zmarie roque |
shiny dimes
Who: Marie & Greg
What: Absinthe and pink crystals
When: Toward the end of Mardi Gras
Where: Boudin, then briefly at Marie's
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
Time wasn’t really a factor in an eternal creature’s mind. Gregory didn’t have a life expectancy of eternity, but after several decades on this planet the word eternity could hold several different meanings. There were times that things were shit and times when they were peaceful. For all the awful in the world there was an equal amount of good. He’d seen quite enough of it, which is why Greg was eager to help get Summerview into that peaceful time it deserved. A sanctuary was supposed to be just that. It had potential. There were plenty of others who were willing to help. But for all the working he’d been doing he was going to have himself some fun. And not just with him and a few bottles alone. Marie’s Boudin always sent wonderful smells right into the nostrils--and the spices would certainly clear them if that didn’t hit the spot. Of course it was decorated with all sorts of colors and Greg could feel the happy aura of emotions about him, already pulling a smile to his face. Finding a booth wasn’t difficult since he’d reserved one ahead of time, ordering some Beignets (dessert before dinner of course), crawfish, gumbo, and of course some absinthe as he waited for Marie to pop over. She had enough to occupy herself with so there was no rush. Greg was happy to be out with good food, a good vibe, and relaxing for a hot fucking minute. Since Greg was what Marie would consider a special customer, and a favorite, she would take care of him herself - and slip a couple extra crawfish fritters onto his plate. Maybe ladle an extra-hearty portion of gumbo onto rice too - and as for the absinthe, well, she had a table-side silver pitcher she brought to prepare the drink for him the correct way. The pitcher had multiple spouts, almost like a fountain - she carried it over, with a sashay of hips and a warm, welcoming smile. “Bonjour, mon petit,” she greeted, setting down the contraption. The silver spoon was laid delicately across the glass, sugar cube set on top, and she poured some ice water into the pitcher - it the trickled down, beginning to dissolve the cube over the neon lime-colored liquid. Drink the green fairy indeed. “Your food will be up shortly.” Slowly but surely, the sugar broke down, sweetness drip-dropping into the glass. Marie leaned in on her elbows, not exactly a professional pose but it offered a good view of cleavage. “And how drunk do we plan on getting this evening?” The unicorn relaxed comfortably back against the cushion, perfectly alright with the special treatment and enjoying the process. “Bonjour, belle.” He knew a little bit of each language here and there to get across. But he was a Swede. There were few languages more difficult than his. And an impressive view he did admire, the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “Oh nothing sloppy. But enough to cut loose and relax. It takes awhile for me to get sloppy but don’t be afraid to cut me off.” He gave her a playful wink. Greg could tell she was in a calm state at the moment, but her underlying emotions were there and nestled to the side while she prioritized. He hoped she had cheered up since their conversation, if not, he’d certainly do his best to change that. “What about you, sweetheart?” Marie hadn’t been expecting to have such a deep conversation over the forum - her feelings about her succubus nature were usually kept squelched, and she regretted opening up to Julius the way she had. He didn’t give a shit, and that simply added an extra layer or two of barbed wire around her heart - from now on, she’d try to keep things purely in survival mode. Nothing good happened when she let herself feel close to someone. It was just easier said than done, was all. And after letting some of that poison out, talking, she did feel better - her sadness was still there, however, a raincloud that was probably irritating to an empath. Mais oui. “I have to run the place, I can’t be getting sloppy,” she chuckled huskily, sliding the absinthe toward Greg. “But I wouldn’t mind relaxing either. If you don’t mind the company, I’ll grab your food and come back.” The booth was nice and private, at least. He felt the twinge of sadness within her and cast a warm layer of happiness and relaxation into the air with his abilities. Nothing to forceful, but enough. The only thing irritating was that his nature wanted him to fix everyone and everything, and he could not. But he could start with keeping Summerview safe, and helping Marie feel not so hopeless about love because of her species. He took the absinthe gratefully, flashing her a bright smile that was somewhat mischievous. “Like I said, nothing sloppy. We can save that for when we have a shitty day and don’t care anymore.” He waves the notion away. “I’d be a little pissed if you didn’t come back. I did come here for you after all. And the food.” “You’re sweet,” Marie winked, because aww, he’d come here for her. Leaning in further, she deposited an air kiss by Greg’s cheek and then headed off to the kitchen. When she returned, she was expertly balancing a tray with those hot, fresh beignets (and the veritable mountain of powdered sugar that was required with beignets), straight-from-the-fryer crawfish fritters, and two bowls of aromatic gumbo - one bowl was for her, one was for him. “You were looking skinny, mon petit, I made sure to give you a hearty helping.” Yes, her bowl was a lot smaller. Greg practically had a whole pot of seafood gumbo - and the ‘you’re looking skinny’ excuse was just the old-world way of making sure a person ate until they were about to explode. Her Maman had been like that, a long time ago. “Where do you actually live? Is it in Atlantic City?” Of course, it was difficult to make connections because Unicorns could be a bit much as both empaths and their undying loyalty and feelings. But in his age Greg had long since past the ‘should I shouldn’t I stage’, knew life was life, and just rode the wave. If he could stay alive long enough he had a few more hundred years left and he wasn’t about to be a lonely bitch. And he wouldn’t let little sweet Marie be either. Fuck yes those goddamn beignets. She would have to keep that powdered sugar away from him or his sparkle ass might snort it. Really. “Aren’t you just the thoughtful little dumping?” Ha ha, he looked skinny. Greg was very tall and lean, he knew it. Well. It happened when you were actually a giant ass horse with an even bigger horn. Or head sword, he called sometimes, if he was drunk enough amongst the others. Hands grabbed eagerly for the sweet morsels first, no manners, sorry, and big bite chomped down one or two--no he didn’t pause for breathing either. Ok ok, gumbo. And civilized conversation. Sometimes he could be worse than a dragon who found a treasure chest. “I don’t really live anywhere, technically. Travel too much.” As was the way with unicorns and bringing about justice before he could be discovered. But Greg did give her his full attention in between spoonfuls of the delicious gumbo. “I got a studio in the city for the cover, obviously, and a place to stay overnight. For here I usually just find a motel or grab a cot at the office. How about you?” Greg didn’t really have possessions. You let go of those with time. He had his crystals, some herbs of course blah blah blah but resolutely only always had the ring on his finger with his family’s crest. “A motel or a cot??” Marie couldn’t say she was surprised by this - but that didn’t mean she approved. Oh no, of course not. Those motel beds (there was really only one in town, right? That little bed and breakfast?) were probably too lumpy and short for the likes of this vertically gifted unicorn here. She tsked, swallowing a mouthful of gumbo. “Non, well, that won’t do. I live in an apartment on Main Street - it’s the bottom level of a house. It’s just me there, but it’s cozy. You are welcome to use it when you’re on the island. I am hardly there anyway, it feels like,” she shrugged. There was a lot of work that went into owning Boudin - and unlike many other establishments, she didn’t have much of a cooking staff, since she was doing most of it on her own. With her own tried and true family recipes. That would not be changing anytime soon either. “The BnB or whatever. It’s nice!” Greg gave a typical manly ‘whaaaaat’ face and shrug, reaching over for some of those delicious looking crawdaddies. He gave a small eye roll at her tsk. Women definitely had better standards than men did, of that he did know, it’s probably why they lived longer. The lack of ‘man care’ only left after more time passed. And she was already momming him. To the point of inviting him to stay in her apartment. Which yes, did sound very cozy. Much like being prone to sugar, crystals, and other galliant stereotypes--well who the hell didn’t? If he didn’t have work Greg could dangerously hide out in a patch of comfort. He did, he had to when he needed to return to his normal form. Fuck if there was nowhere safe to do so. Taking another sip of his absinthe to wash down the crawfish, Greg pointed a finger at her, stuffed with a beignet, “You’re on my shit for sleeping in a BnB but you’re a workaholic who's either here or fighting the man. Do you even sleep?” He took a chomp and shook his head slowly. “You’ve got no room to speak, babydoll.” Oh, no, Gregory - no ‘momming’ here. Marie was thinking more along the lines of getting him into bed - but, oui, she also did care about his well-being and comfort. She just also wanted to do things to him that mothers should never do, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He probably had a point anyway, about how she didn’t sleep much. She grabbed his accusatory finger and brought it to her mouth, sucking off the powdered sugar (it was impossible to eat beignets without looking like you’d just face planted into a mountain of cocaine), not caring about how lewd it looked, before giving him back use of his hands. “I sleep sometimes,” she said. “But I will sleep more - if you promise to use the key I’ll give you, and not stay on a cot anywhere.” Or the BnB. Nice it may be, but it didn’t have a fridge stuffed with food or plush, cloud-like pillows, did it? Well that was saucy. But that was his sugar, Marie. Before she gave him back his hand he let the back of his finger caress lightly over her lips. “I promise nothing.” The unicorn replied cheekily, going back into the gumbo to make sure his belly was good and full before he would destroy it with more absinthe. Running his tongue along his lips, he leaned comfortably back into the booth to actually take his time with the food now. “Come to think of it--do you even need to sleep?” Gregory may have met a few succubi in his life but that didn’t mean he knew everything. Though gauging from the tint of sadness in her aura, she was working and making food because it was here that made here happy. At least she hadn’t turned to hurting herself or something else. That he knew of. He’d keep a tab on his little lady here and her emotions, whether it bothered her or not. “I can probably go without sleep longer than the average mundane person,” Marie shrugged. “But I still need to sleep eventually.” Even vampires did - pretty much every species did. Otherwise wouldn’t the brain start literally eating itself? Ah, something else they had in common with humans. She had actually not encountered many unicorns - she’d know if she’d been with one, and she hadn’t. Which made her wonder what exactly his chi would taste like. Rainbow sherbert, maybe - the thought was amusing. Finally digging into her own gumbo, she let herself enjoy a few bites and the fruits of her labor. Mmmm. It was fantastic comfort food, whether one needed to warm up from the chill outside or recover from a particular intense night of partying on Bourbon (or Atlantic City, in this case). “And you need to sleep too, Gregory,” she added. “You’re not allergic to cats though, are you? Admittedly, mine has scales instead of fur but still.” “I’ll get my sleep if you promise to be the big spoon,” he winked lightly. But he did have to sleep and keep himself in good standings to be on best alert for work or for healing if needed. Which meant nights like tonight or his anger driven drunken binges were saved for special times. What Gregory really needed was a safe place to change into his real form. What he missed was running freely as he truly was but these days it was a dry exchange behind closed doors. “Not that I recall? Do I want to know why your cat has scales instead of fur?” His brow did raise at that because...he’d never heard of that before. “I can be the big spoon,” Marie laughed, finding that thought amusing for some reason - especially when you considered her size and then Greg’s size. He was ridiculously tall, and she doubted she cleared his shoulder even while wearing heels. “Oh, the cat - her name is Viviette - she is sort of a...project, I think? The mermaid, Peisinoê, she was doing some lab experiments. And a litter of odd-looking kittens was the result.” The reason for those experiments, well, Marie didn’t know exactly. She’d never asked. It seemed very ‘mad science,’ but as long as the mermaid wasn’t doing whatever happened in the lab in Silicon Valley, then there wasn’t reason to be concerned. Yet. “But anyway...” She reached across the table, small hands covering Greg’s. Obviously not all the way, yet it was a valiant effort. “Do you want to come back with me, after I close up shop, and see the place? I will keep my hands mostly to myself.” Ironic, considering where they were now. However, while she usually brought people back to her place for meals, she wasn’t in need of that at the moment. That was an interesting sort of..project. Greg of course knew of dear Peisinoê. She’d helped to give him more information for the investigation and he’d healed her in exchange. Not that he wouldn’t have healed her if she had no information to give. But she seemed the trustworthy type--and since she was coincidentally dating one of the other unicorns on this little island, she was worth trusting. The steady two figures of their entire population made Greg about as loathsome to admit what he was as he was genuinely afraid. Not to die, of course, but his species didn’t deserve to hide. Or be snuffed out. “I think I can pencil some time in for you.” Hands turning over so he could observe her smaller ones, fingers tracing along the side of her palm and her fingers. “I have something to give you anyways. I’d say it was for your home but you should probably carry it with you since you’re never there…” His eyes had fallen to her hands as if he could read her palms facing down. He couldn’t, of course, but he was trying to get a sense of her succubi energy and emotions. “Something for me?” Marie sounded as if her curiosity was piqued and indeed it was. Hmm. It was close to quittin’ time anyway, so she’d be closing up shop soon. And it was more involved than simply shutting off the lights and calling it a night, even in her little place on the boardwalk here. “I could be persuaded to spend more time at home if it means I get to be the big spoon. But oui, let me just take care of a few things. You finish up here and then I can meet you outside.” Her hands squeezed his - and her energy was sultry, the color red and summer nights and spice. Just the way of things, the vibe she exuded, almost like a coming thunderstorm. But then she was off, heading back to take out the nightly trash, sweep, and ensure the food was where it needed to be and properly dated. Her small staff would help with some of that as well, so it wouldn’t take too long. “It’s not a big deal, just a little something.” Whether or not she’d like it, it should help her mood and her emotions. Greg enjoyed that she let him see her aura for what it was, taking it in, and in then releasing his own. Like a soothing balm. Healing the aches, unstressing the stressed, chilling the atmosphere. Unless of course he were angry and thankfully, nothing had tickled his fight bone just yet. He gave her hand a quick kiss before making quick work of the leftovers, and taking another helping of absinthe. Gregory didn’t mind waiting outside. He’d had a nice meal, the empathetic environment was stable for the moment, and it was a pleasant evening. He also had a single bottle of absinthe to keep him company for the wait. Wasn’t he sweet? Marie wouldn’t keep him waiting long. She was speedy about finishing all the tasks on her ‘closing’ list, hanging up her apron, and changing her comfy working shoes to a pair of boots for the walk home. Over her jeans and raglan t-shirt she had a leather jacket, which was an interesting rough n’ rugged contrast to that pink hair of hers. “It’s not a long walk,” she promised, immediately strolling up to Greg and hooking her arm around his - the one that wasn’t nursing the absinthe. No, he could enjoy that as he pleased. “And I always like looking at the sky on the way back home.” “I’m not in a rush. Pitiful decisions pending, I have plenty of time.” The only thing he’d ever be in rush for was to heal someone. Or of course if it were a family or job circumstance. Seeing as it was one of few nights he’d taken off from either working in Summerview or his facade in the city, they could walk all night if she pleased. Greg held her arm ever so gentlemanly like as they took a pleasant stroll towards her proclaimed cozy abode. Cozy and quiet sounded so good. And a place he wouldn’t have to look over his shoulder? Damn it was really good to trust someone every few years or so. “The sky has always been a calming sight to enjoy. If anything on this earth has remained stagnant--it’s that.” “Very true,” Marie agreed. “It just kinds of reminds you that you’re a speck in the universe, and not as important as you think.” Which, for her, was a comforting thought. Some things just didn’t matter, you know? When they reached her apartment, she let them inside. Incense was likely the first thing someone might notice when they stepped into her abode; warm and smoky and relaxing, as Marie was a proponent of aromatherapy. Plus, with a cat in a small space, she didn’t want it to smell like litterbox, right? But in addition to that, color was splashed everywhere, the furniture plush and cozy like sinking into marshmallows, and up on the walls were canvases from Jackson Square that pulled it all together. Mostly voodoo kings smoking cigars, but also trolley cars down Bourbon and boiled crawfish - most food canvases she’d put up in Boudin, yet still maintained one or two in her home as well. “Well, this is it,” she motioned around them. “My room’s this way.” She led Greg down the hall - and her bedroom was just as plush as the rest of her place, meaning, the bed itself was probably too big for the room but it worked. Smirking, Greg chuckled with her very true statement and followed it up with something completely less serious. “Except for me. I’m incredibly important. Not another speck like me, dammit.” Greg knew his existence and presence within the supernatural community was important. What was more important was that they learned to live and let live. The earth was HUGE and they could co exist with the humans who were every bit as damaged as they were. It was pleasant to walk into another welcoming atmosphere, one that his own aura immediately mirrored and expanded on. Yes, he could definitely get lost down here when needed to cleanse and realign. Eyes cast over the canvas’, lips curling into a toothy grin at the bright color and atmosphere without being rowdy at all. It felt like.. a home. “I like it,” he nodded his approval following her into her room, that plush bed just calling his name. He had a feeling she wouldn’t mind so Greg let his conveniently large body flop back onto her plush bed. Oh, yes. The unicorn stretched back against the mattress before fumbling around with the inner pockets of his jacket. “C’mere, this is for you, and promise not to laugh. But I think this will help.” His palm opened up to reveal a smooth, brightly shining pink crystal, charged with his magic. “I’ll save you the baseball card stats, but Rose Quartz is the ultimate energy bandaid. Love, self love and acceptance, forgiveness, humility, patience, you name it. If you keep it by your bed it can bring you peace and serenity instead if you’re not feeling up for some patience or humility.” Greg could make himself comfortable, Marie wasn’t fussed - she did the same, taking off her boots and jacket. And climbing onto the bed next to him, curious about what he was reaching for. “I won’t laugh,” she promised, though when she saw the crystal - and when he explained its meaning - the look in her eye was a cross between delighted and overwhelmed. No one had ever given her a gift like this before, no one cared enough to be concerned with her level of self-love. No one gave a shit that she often loathed what she had to do to survive, and felt lonely because it basically guaranteed her solitude. To experience the opposite now was odd. Odd, but nice. “It’s beautiful, thank you - though no guarantees on the humility, Mr. Important Gregory.” Yes, he was important. But anyway, she leaned in and kissed him, deep enough to smudge the lipstick off of her mouth. It was sort of a surprise - she only meant it to be something light, but then sort of liked his taste of anise from the absinthe and general smoke and spice, like fire. “You’re comfy now, so you’ll stay?” In this world it was dangerous to give out such information close to the heart. You were either going to get lucky and find someone who would understand or you’d find someone who’d use it against you. For all the hurt and danger there was good. Sometimes..you just didn’t have it in you to try to sort through the muck that often. Greg hid behind work and alcohol. But his nature always got the best of him. Hmmm, he took a great bit of emotion from her kiss, enjoying that she took more than she’d meat to. He didn’t seem bothered at all, usual quirky smirk still on his face. It was the way she asked him if he would stay that made his eyes soften and his heart ache. She didn’t want to be alone. Without any condition of work, pleasure, or the like. Just raw emotion of basic necessity. “Are you kidding? This bed is fucking ridiculous. I’m scared I might not leave.” He gently smoothed away the smeared lipstick off her face with his thumb. “Oui, it is an upgrade from a cot in your office, mon petit,” Marie chuckled, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth to get the rest of her lipstick. It was meant to last all day but at the end of a work shift, well, unless she got her makeup tattooed on it would not, in fact, last all day. She had so much to do, to get ready for bed, but just wanted to lie here for a little while longer. “Five minutes and I will wash my face, at least,” she mumbled, tucking herself in against Greg’s side and pretty much flopping there. For five minutes only. Right. Greg chuckled right along with her because she insisted on calling him small. Ha ha. He wouldn’t know what she had to do. He, had to follow up on some reports tomorrow and then go back into the city for a few days. Laying here in the comfortable cubbie that Marie had created, the unicorn didn’t really want to go anywhere. As she flopped against his side he scooted back so his tall self wouldn’t still be halfway off the mattress, running his knuckles over her back in circular motions, playing with her hair. Blue eyes had long since fluttered shut, even with all of his clothes and boots on. “What’s wrong with your face now?” He hummed. “It feels greasy after a night of work, for one thing,” Marie responded with a smoky purr of a laugh. “I could use a shower. And I need to feed Vivi. But I am just so comfortable...” Alas, there were things that needed taking care of. After insisting Greg stay put (though he could take off his boots, at least), Marie opened a can of food for her strange cat (the sound got Vivi to come running, as she expected) and while she didn’t indulge in a long, luxurious shower she settled for washing her face and putting on clean pajamas. Shorts and a cami top printed with ‘rest assured.’ Har, har. Then she climbed back into bed - not thinking how strange it was to share a bed with someone without having just fed or did the deed. It was not something she’d done before, and it was a different type of intimacy all unto its own. “Kiss me goodnight?” she asked flirtatiously, propping up on her elbow and adding a bat of lashes. “No rest for the wicked, Hmm?” He watched her here and there as she went about her nightly routine. She was certainly a busy bee. Come to think of it, Greg hadn’t ever noticed her taking a moment to relax. All business all the time. Not that he had any room to speak. The unicorn flitted in and out of consciousness until he felt her warm presence on the bed, smile spreading over his face and those baby blues glancing back up to Marie. “C’mere and get it, sweetheart.” Of course he didn’t make her scoot all the way over to him. Greg rolled to his side and craned his head to give her deep and tender kiss, cradling the entirety of her cheek with his hand. Marie wasn’t the only one who probably needed not to fall into a cascade of work and themselves. Even unicorns that had to walk on eggshells so they could stay afloat forgot to let themselves enjoy some compassion. She definitely came and got it - no tentative or shy kiss either. Then Marie deflated and relaxed comfortably against Greg, wrapped in blankets and wrapped around him. The pink crystal had been delicately placed on her bedside table, and it’d remain there for the immediate future. “Goodnight, mon petit,” she breathed out, and before she knew it she was asleep. And blissfully, she stayed that way. |