goodeintentions: ({ Let me tell you buddy-)
Aimery Goode ([personal profile] goodeintentions) wrote in [community profile] multiversallogs2011-10-28 06:51 pm

Payback for the bait and switch

Who: [livejournal.com profile] inkstainedsword and [livejournal.com profile] selfmadman
What: AN ICE CREAM PARTY
Where: House of Ego, then a bar just over the river in Griss Twist
When: Veerdi evening
Notes: None.
Warnings: Alcoholism.

Aimery was grateful it was his night off; it hadn't been a particularly eventful week, but he tired of being on his best behavior and looked forward to an evening where he could relax, have a few drinks, and feel like less of a boring old man with nothing in his life but a job. Around sunset he changed out of his suits and into black slacks and a dark red sweater, with a scarlet scarf about his neck for when he eventually unbuttoned the sweater later in the evening, and swapped out the jewelry in his piercings for ones that were shinier, less discreet.

Before he headed out though, he made one last round of the house, checking that there was nothing else that needed putting away or tidying up.
selfmadman: (incredulous)

[personal profile] selfmadman 2011-11-03 07:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"If only there were a way to know for sure." Don sat at the edge of the bed, notepad resting on his knees. He sounded preoccupied, his words half a step behind his thoughts.

He glanced up, tossed the pad to the desk. "Next time, knock." His attention snapped back from wherever it had been; a faint crease in his brow, he took in the change in attire. "Where are you headed?"
selfmadman: (Default)

[personal profile] selfmadman 2011-11-08 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Don's eyebrows rose a fraction. For a moment he regarded Aimery as if anticipating a punchline, some cue to rustle up a laugh. "It's October," he said, dubiousness plain and patient. "You're a month away from frostbite."
selfmadman: (Default)

[personal profile] selfmadman 2011-11-09 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
His expression turned guarded--subtly, a gate closed by a steady hand and with a minimum of fuss. He looked carefully at Aimery and just as carefully away. With a groan Don pushed himself up from the bed and stepped over to the desk.

The glass was where he'd left it; the splash of rye just enough to swirl.

"Can they do an old-fashioned? That's a cocktail," he added, lifting his eyes from the glass, "not a sundae."
selfmadman: (Default)

[personal profile] selfmadman 2011-11-10 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
Businesslike, Don downed the remainder of his drink. Swiping a hand across his mouth he paged through a few of the papers on the desk, gathered them into a pile. "Right," he said in a rueful undertone, flashed a smile that seemed to involve only one corner of his mouth. "I keep forgetting I have to ask."

He switched off the lamp and started for the door.