isobel evans (whatwouldbeydo) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2020-04-12 15:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, declan lynch, isobel evans-bracken |
WHO: Isobel Evans and Declan Lynch
WHAT: Meeting/hooking up at the party
WHEN: Yesterday, April 11
WHERE: Starlight Park -> elsewhere
WARNINGS: Suggestive flirting, but nothing graphic (fades to black)
Isobel was quite buzzed and sincerely considering lowering her standards, because goddamn, it would be sad if she went home alone from this party.
Even if going ‘home’ in this instance meant going back to Marina, who actually was very fun in bed, but Isobel had a feeling she might be here somewhere, with someone. And she didn’t want to look desperate.
And she missed men. It was a stupid longing, she knew that, all of it based around her idea of having a normal, perfect married life that would help her fit in on Earth, but she had also genuinely enjoyed having that life very much and some part of her wanted it back. But none of the men here in their weird little displaced group knew how to dress, or at least not the ones who were available. She’d had a few drinks with one who was at least wearing a decent leather jacket, but the Companions that were wandering around kept distracting her, and she was debating the risks of the whole fertility business (and depending on space tech birth control to save her from it, no less) when she caught sight of a grey suit.
Declan. She’d almost forgotten that he even existed.
Getting drinks with him had been… boring but enjoyable, at the same time. He was both impeccably polite and well dressed, and yet forgettable. But in this crowd, he was managing to strike the perfect balance between the grungy underdressed and the totally debauched.
She finished off her drink, set the empty glass decisively down on the counter, and got up from her seat. She moved across the room with most of her usual grace and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. “Hello.”
--
People were outgoing enough at this festival that the friendly -- how friendly difficult to judge immediately in this atmosphere -- call for attention wasn’t shocking in and of itself. Declan had had multiple pleasant conversations with some of the locals. Their knowledge of Earth art history was lacking. They appreciated his stories, and Declan stole memorable turns of phrase for his private collection. A good evening, already.
He blinked once recognizing Isobel. Once enjoyable evening had marked an even shorter experience than that with the Ashleys. Still, he had gone on enough dates like that and held no hard feelings. Incredibly, she seemed to remember him. Less astonishing when all trapped on a spaceship traveling through a distant star system or galaxy or universe altogether. But still.
“Hello Isobel,” Declan greeted her amicably. “You look stunning,” perfectly true. “How are you tonight?” The night had already turned out to be unexpectedly different than what any of them had been expecting. At least, most of them.
--
“Thank you,” Isobel said, pleased. “I think this dress is lost on most of this crowd. Well, our crowd, anyway. I’ve been surrounded by jeans and t-shirts all night. Well, and one leather jacket.” She could give Quill credit for that. But not a lot of credit. “I need a break from feeling overdressed, and you’re wearing a suit, so. Here I am.”
It was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but, well. She didn’t have a lot to go on when it came to him. Even the suit, as well as it fit on him, was bland and forgettable -- so she couldn’t exactly return the compliment. “What about you?”
--
“You’re welcome,” Declan replied with proper manners. He took a glance around the room. It was an array of fashion choices, from so casual it was not even purposefully sculpted, tailored and fashionable casual to Naboo shopping trips showing themselves and whatever people thought to bring with them on a trip to space. “If anything, they should feel underdressed near you,” he said. They were closer matching in formality than most people he had spoken with as well. Fortunately, menswear -- especially one so forgettable -- went over easier with most things than her beautiful metallic number. Men’s clothes had that advantage more generally. Women were the flashier ones. Even small changes stood out. Small things to be grateful for.
“It’s breaking up the routine of the days on board,” Declan said, “It will be easier to remember this day and night separately from the rest.” He glanced at his watch, hummed under his breath. “I don’t know what calendar system this place even uses, but were we following the one we had, it’d be April 11th tonight.” Nearly the second full week of the month. How had that happened?
“With everything we might want to do on the ship available as much on one day as another, I appreciate events like these,” he said. He smiled, the welcoming warm smile he had inherited from his father. “Something you have to take advantage of and to experience, the way the Japanese appreciate the beauty of a cherry blossom. The briefness of its existence adds to the allure.”
--
“You’re right about that,” Isobel said wryly. She settled into the conversation by leaning her weight onto one hip, one hand on it as she surveyed the crowd again. “I always thought space would be… more exciting. But a cruise ship is a cruise ship, and no matter how much they pack into it, it all gets boring eventually if you’re stuck here for days on end.”
She smiled back at him, less of a welcoming smile and more of a suggestive quirk of the corner of her mouth, a glint of mischief in her eye. “Do you want to make the party a little more memorable?”
--
Declan had considered a response about the universal quality of long trips, and space being so vast and large promised some amount of travel time. And so, cruise ship or not, they were going to have the boring transit between exciting elements. In many ways this was far less aggravating than a road trip with Ronan and Matthew. Mostly because Ronan was Ronan. Though if Matthew gained control of the music, he was a part of it too. He was good at this sort of conversation, keeping what was real and personal tucked inside where nobody got to see.
But Isobel’s question halted that, a bowling ball through a whole series of conversations. His smile shifted slightly, and Declan considered the possibility. In the end, it depended on what she meant, what setting she preferred. Gorgeous as Isobel was, Declan was not inclined toward sexual activity in public. His smile matched hers, and he gave a small nod. “I would,” Declan agreed, “supposing we find somewhere a little more private.” He motioned toward the room, where a few couples -- mostly their recent cruise companions native to wherever in space they were -- were subtly or not so subtly making their own memories.
--
Isobel made a soft pfft sound. “Please. This crowd is at least ninety percent people I’d never let see me naked.”
And her brother was around here somewhere, which was just as much of a motivator to get out of here, but talking about brothers didn’t really fit in well with seduction. Even if she wasn’t trying very hard at that, currently. Maybe if he was good in bed she’d consider putting in a little more work to keep him interested later.
“But,” she continued, reaching out to pinch his tie briefly between her thumb and forefinger, “With most of the ship here… I bet we could find somewhere ‘public’ that’s deserted right now.”
Her room was also an option, maybe his was as well, but there were roommates to consider, and being just a little bit publicly indecent was more in the spirit of the holiday.
--
Declan made a small nod to concede her point. Fortunately, neither Ronan nor any of his friends were there, but the sheer volume made such vulnerable distraction a reckless choice. Needing constant awareness of those around them made it more difficult to pay attention to the rather more enjoyable point of the activity.
He hummed slightly at her suggestion, mentally reviewing the layout of the ship, the dead ends and blind corners he had located during the initial walk through of the ship. Further, the regular patrols he partook on board gave him a good idea of where they’d have some privacy, as much as one could in ‘public.’ Declan leaned in slightly closer, briefly resting his hand against her side. “I know a place that could work,” he suggested.
--
The touch of his hand on her side was not at all unpleasant. Isobel’s fingers curled a little more tightly around his tie, pulled gently on it to draw him just an inch or so closer, and she smiled at him, looking into his eyes to see if he would enjoy it if she pulled even harder. She had other ideas for the tie, too, if he didn’t.
“Show me,” she said, the words halfway between an order and a request.