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Who: Asbjørn & Ruby.
What: Moonpool hunting.
Where: Sobek Croix.
When: A week or so after Bad Blood.
Notes: Glow in the dark shenanigans!
Warnings: Partial nudity because swimming in moonpools.

Prior to the bad blood business, Asbjørn had learnt that there was something in the forest surrounding Sobek Croix, in that roundabout 'I heard it from a guy in a pub, who heard it from his sister's hairdresser' sort of way. The locals were wary. A few magic users he'd encountered, who had lived in the city for several years, had nudged each other and shared knowing looks. And thanks to being cooped up in his flat with nothing better to do than lick his wounds and read, a few books on local history and landmarks had hinted at interesting things.

...what's telling is that he took that information and decided a place widely rumoured to be haunted was best explored after dark. At some point during the day, Ruby would have gotten a text that read:

up for a late night forest adventure in sobek croix? i can promise food, good company and supernatural goings on. and only one of the last two things is me.

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"...pants?" Speaking of casual nudity. He pushes himself off the ground until he's upright, kneeling.

"It's a natural pain. Getting in fights and not being able to change as often as I'd like makes it a little worse. But I'll be fine." And he smiles in reassurance.

"Right. Yes." Excuse the blushing. She quickly retrieves clothing from his bag, offering it. Ruby realizes, now that they're near the street lamps and city lights, she still has a bit of accumulated glow from the moonpools. Ruby kind of hopes a shower will take care of that eventually, but for now...

It's kind of cool.

His legs creak audibly as he gets up, turning away slightly and managing to slide on still very damp jeans. Glow-in-the-dark jeans at that.

When Asbjørn's finally dressed, sans boots which he'll go back and get in a day or so, he turns to Ruby. "Ready. Don't worry about sticking out in Howl Barrow. We'll be more likely to get asked what theatre troupe we're part of than looked at weird."

"I will be sure to make something clever up," she promises. The sound of his joints creaking is kind of alarming, but--she understands 'natural' pain, and trusts that if it were too much to handle, he would say something.

"I hope it's not a far walk." Given what's become of his jeans...and his boots.

"It's not, and I know a short-cut." And he swings the bag up on one shoulder and maybe a little hesitantly reaches to hold Ruby's hand again. The newness and the quickness of this hasn't been lost on him either.

As they walk along, Asbjørn points out a few bits of street art and there's an odd cockatoo hanging around on a lamp post that's decided to stray from Carme's temple. It's maybe ten minutes of some occasionally careful walking before they reach a street of colourful buildings with mismatched heights. He stops at a tall, thin one that's light-blue in the daylight.

Even though it's dark, Ruby is looking around with unabashed curiosity. She's very much anticipating getting inside away from the cold, though, and walks closely with Asbjørn.

"This is it, huh?" It's mostly a rhetorical question--she assumes they wouldn't have stopped anywhere else, after all. "Should I be expecting the classic disastrous bachelor pad?"

"Don't worry, I'm house trained," he says with a wry smile as he fishes keys out of the backpack. "I even cook."

His apartment is on the second floor, a clean but modestly furnished place with high ceilings and wooden floors that's still lacking in personal touches. When they reach it, he even makes a point of saying, "See? A complete lack of disasters."

Edited 2011-11-08 09:34 (UTC)

"I had a feeling," she admits, laughing a little. He's not like the men she knew at home; he's able to take care of himself better, not so dependent on women for certain things. That may be a difference in nationality, or may just be Ruby's historic tendencies with men.

"It's really nice. I love the ceilings."

"Mm, I almost feel like a regular sized person in here." The backpack is put down in an out of the way corner as he contemplates what to do next.

"If you want to get warmed up, the bath has a shower head and I can give you something dry to wear." It's a carefully selected decision, not wanting to assume or push anything. "Although I really want out of these jeans." A pause, as he realises how that sounded. "Because they're damp."

The offer makes her tilt her head and smile a little, as she looks at him with some understanding. Ruby didn't decide to come here so nothing could happen, but she doesn't have any expectations and knows things will go organically. "We could probably both use dry clothes. Just a change is okay, if that suits you--I sort of don't want to wash off this glow yet. Is that strange?"

Ruby knows it won't stay, and it's better if it doesn't, but for the time being...she likes the way it looks on her.

"Not really. Besides," there is a quiet little smile from Asbjørn, "it makes you look like something out of a fairytale."

He makes his way over to the bedroom, fishing out some pajama bottoms for himself and a t-shirt for Ruby before calling over his shoulder, "Just a t-shirt, or...?" Look, he's noticed she's fond of not wearing a lot of clothing, who is he to try and change things.

She ducks her head a bit at that, but she's clearly well pleased with the observation. (Ruby likes that he can appreciate the poetry of certain situations with her.)

"Just a t-shirt is okay," she says, agreeably. In the meantime, she starts undoing her buttons on her dress a second time, thinking that the silk is surprisingly undamaged for having been near something wet--but then, the moonpool isn't like water, is it. And she was careful.

A moment later Asbjørn comes out of the room, proferring a standard black t-shirt in hand. "Here." It comes out quieter than he meant it to.

He also seems a little bit reluctant to move away again. Not as strong as the desire at the moonpool to be near and to touch, but it's there nonetheless.

Ruby tugs the t-shirt over her head, and follows it up by pulling all her long red hair out of the collar. She doesn't say anything for a long moment when she looks up at Asbjørn. Some part of her is aware she's a lot mussed and any make-up she had on is probably entirely gone, but she doesn't really care that much.

"Your shirt looks pretty good on me," she says, smoothing it down over her thighs.

"Just 'pretty' good?" Mussed hair and lack of make-up be damned. Asbjørn reaches out to gently tug the bottom hem of the t-shirt --and therefore, Ruby, if she'll let him-- towards him with a smile. "You're welcome to steal my clothes any time."

Ruby not only permits being tugged closer, she sidles up, so that she can press just a little against Asbjørn. Her heart is starting to do that hummingbird thing in her chest again, but it's not as anxious-feeling as it was at the moonpools, where everything was touched with considerably more uncertainty.

"Careful, I might turn into a magpie." She reaches up to wrap both arms around him.

Bird analogies are appropriate, he thinks, still afraid to do anything that could scare her away (it's going to take a lot of time to get over that fear). For now Asbjørn's hands find Ruby's hips, quite content with this newfound proximity. "Well in that case, I may have to steal you first. Polar bear pride, you understand."

"Really." She sways just slightly against him, starting from her hips beneath his hands. By now, Ruby thinks she should probably be tired, but she's not, not at all. She doesn't know if you can get an adrenaline rush from kissing, but whatever the closest approximation is, that's what she blames all her energy on.

"That sounds fair, but you will have to tell me what you'd do with me if you managed to steal me."

"Build a nest," he says, followed with a quick kiss. "Stay there for a while." Which is true, in a sense.

And despite his stomach doing small, internal flips, he kisses Ruby again. And again. As he slowly tugs her back with him towards the couch.

Edited 2011-11-10 08:18 (UTC)

Any responses on her part are immediately waylaid by kissing, and she's half-distracted by that to the extent she barely realizes where they're heading. Somewhere, dimly, however, as much registers, and she playfully gives him a little push so that if he sits down, she can sit on his lap, knees on either side of him.

It's something of a bold move, for Ruby, but considering she's wearing his clothes, she figures she's allowed.

Asbjørn is completely fine with bold moves, oddly enough. Although the push seems to create a defiant little reaction in him because the minute after Ruby straddles him, rather than relax back, he pushes himself up with both elbows and a slightly smug look of 'now what?' Someone likes playful.

That gets a little sound from Ruby, and she pulls back enough to pout at him. In only the most outlandishly overwrought fashion, concurrently to gripping his shoulders so she doesn't fall back.

"What are you doing?" It is threaded through with a laugh, so she...pretty obviously has an idea, and does not mind.

"I distinctly remember telling you I didn't mind when you said you might bite me, once," he says, arms moving around Ruby's back to hold her more securely. "Well, that kind of goes for everything. And I like to give as good as I get."

That last part is said a little too innocently. Asbjørn. "Besides, you look cute when you pout."

Ruby can't help smiling at that, especially Asbjørn's faux-innocent tone. "In that case, I think I should probably demonstrate the 'getting', shouldn't I? I've certainly thought about it enough."

So that admission leads her to kiss him, briefly, on the mouth -- but her attention travels to his jawline and then his throat, where she liberally also employs her teeth. Gently, but still very present.

(That they're being mutually cautious despite their obvious interest, taking it a bit slow, is something she will think about later and appreciate.)

Rushing anything would seem contrary to Asbjørn, given the amount of time he's thought about Ruby over the past couple of months. Although he does lean back slowly, finally, with a small pleased noise.