Open RP Post

[andfire]

Open RP Post

♦ All characters are allowed to interact, regardless of being in a game with Elsa or not.
♠ This is an IC-spam post; only character journals, please.
♥ Doubles and threadjacking are allowed for maximum derp.
♣ 4th-walling: is allowed; Elsa can take it. She will likely just think you're crazy.
♦ Wank and OOC matters will be deleted.
♠ Crit will be redirected to the HMD

♠♥♣♦

This post has no established setting, to allow for any sort of thread. Voicetesting, smut, derp, violence, angst, crack, memes, any other shenanigans I might be missing are acceptable.

Also backtagging.

Lots of backtagging.

♠♥♣♦

Comments

[andfire]

It's almost a little surreal, how fast and easy it is to come down; but it's certainly a welcome feeling. Everything is more than a little sore, but the soreness is muted under a pleasant sort of buzz.

She takes a deep breath, takes in the faint smell of sweat in his hair, and holds it. Her heart is pounding, and she wonders if he can hear it, or if he's even listening.

Pounding.

Why does her heart pound, if they're supposed to be dead?

Her hand comes down to trace her fingers along the shell of his hear, the gesture very gentle compared to moments ago.

"I can't feel my toes..." Although her voice is soft -- exhausted -- there's a hint of amusement.

[handsomefoil]

She's not alone in thinking the sensation surreal. Henry is only starting to feel the realization set in that, maybe, he's found some semblance of a normal life here. It's bizarre to even think it, considering how disturbing and fucked up everything is in Monad, but he can actually feel certain long lost emotions. Peace, comfort, at least in this particular moment.

He'll have to deal with the rest of the bullshit this afterlife throws at him again sooner or later, but at least he can have this. At least he's being allowed to have this, and it's humbling. His eyes stay closed, listening to her heart and he rolls off a little to the side of her and buries his face into the crook of her neck, chuckling softly.

"Sure that's the only thing you can't feel on your body?" He sounds drowsy. Not much of a cuddler, but it just feels like the right thing to do this time.

[andfire]

There is a face tucked into the crook of her neck, creating a warm weight there. She is still for a long moment before she slowly brings her arms around him, keeping him in a very light embrace.

"I feel everything else."

There is a heavy, heavy weight behind the words that he probably won't understand, and she probably won't be inclined to explain it. And it's true, and it is incredible. She feels everything, every sting of pain, every buzz of pleasure, every pound of her heart, every ache in her muscles. The heat of his body tucked against hers, and the tickle of his breath against her skin. The heady warmth that always inhabits her apartment, and the chill of the frost in the --

"I don't know how to make it go away."

The frost.

"Just let it go." /echoes into the night

[handsomefoil]

The words swim in his head, and even if he did understand right away what her words meant, he doesn't ask. He doesn't close his eyes, but simply lays there in thought- the haze of the alcohol dissipated some moments ago so his mind is clear, even if it throbs a little. His hand is draped across her middle, not quite holding, but just resting, and the next thing she says has him sighing a little.

He can't really feel the chill of the frost just yet, his mind definitely elsewhere. She could at least wait until he'd left to start regretting her choices, he thinks with a wry grin on his lips. It's a bit disappointing to hear something like that, not used to having a wonderful experience only to feel the weight of someone's regret on his shoulder right after.

"Is that what you want?" There's no indication in his tone that he was upset or anything, just very neutral.

omfg, these two.

[andfire]

In the heat of everything, the top bedsheet had been cast aside. It lays in a rumpled pile next to her. She reaches for it to draw it up over herself, and then draws it over him as best she can without jostling him too much.

-- definitely not the actions of a woman who may or may not be regretting her choices.

With the blankets pulled up, it all seems a lot less uncouth. More intimate, somehow. Her fingers draw across the back of his hand along her middle.

"No."

It doesn't really occur to her that they're talking about two completely different things. But, if asked, her answer would be the same.

"Not at all."

Her fingers fold around his wrist -- the gesture might be familiar to him now, at this point -- and she brings his hand up to rest against her cheek.

big dumb babies

[handsomefoil]

His body felt tense. Not tense enough that she could feel it through his skin, but just enough to keep him awake. With the pleasant ache of his body and the euphoric feeling of the after-glow, this bit of tension is most unwelcome.

That is, until he felt the sheet drape over his body like a thin embrace. Tentative, but accepting, and he exhales against her skin and screws his eyes shut in relief. Was that relief? He didn't even realize so much of his emotions were riding on this short moment, waiting for her to react, answer, anything...

She didn't want it to go away. She wished for him to stay, to be a part of her body. They had been connected, shared with each other, and melded together in a primal and wild ritual of sorts despite everything that's happened, and to him it feels right. It feels right that they bonded over a horrible mistake, and it's more than he deserved. That realization in itself is enough for him to feel...happy. How odd.

"Mm..." It's not any sort of word, but it's a positive hum, as he lets his hand rest on her cheek. His fingers twitch a little, caressing her flushed skin absentmindedly.

dumbest babies

[andfire]

There is a drowsiness falling over her. Thick and heavy, but pleasant. In the haze of it, she tries to remember the last time she's ever felt this relaxed, and she comes up with nothing.

It's... liberating.

She doesn't quite realize that her eyes aren't opening after she's shut them until she feels herself drifting away. There's a brief moment where she thinks to fight it -- she should probably throw some semblance of clothing on, for the sake of modesty -- but instead she turns her head so her nose touches his palm, and she lets out a breath against it. Her fingers draw a light, idle pattern along his shoulder blade until she folds them over the back of his neck.

The sleep is welcome.