multiversallogs | open; baby's first exploration

Entry tags:

open; baby's first exploration

Who: Rex Lewis & Open
What: Some exploring. Rex is looking around Brock Marsh for a job-- WHO WANTS ~~A WEAPONS DEVELOPER~~ AN ENGINEER-- and then afterwards has found this hip, cool "Vault" place people have told him about.
Where: Brock Marsh (particularly the uni) and Griss Twist (The Vault). You can also accost him in the street. He will love it.
When: Shortly after his arrival.
Notes: Feel free to tag into one of the threads below. The OP is just a little prelude. Multiple threads welcome!
Warnings: The Vault :C

His first night in Baedal, Rex stayed in Mog Hill, exploring the quaint, clean little neighborhood that was his temporary home. It wasn't anywhere he was interested in settling-- to be honest, this entire city wasn't anywhere he was interested in settling. What freedom it offered aside, he didn't want to be here without Ana, without Iago. If he was completely alone, that would be one thing. But the fact that there was a connection of some kind between Baedal and the Barge-- how else could Martha, Snape, Mozenrath, of all people, be here?-- made their absence all the more striking. He put on a brave face for the network, but the truth was: he was terrified and angry, still raw from the events that had come to pass before he was unexpectedly dropped into this world.

The brief exploration did little to calm his nerves. He tried to study his surroundings, pick up what details he could from the locals, but he couldn't stop dwelling on what-- and who-- he'd left behind. Ultimately, his walk around Mog Hill proved to be fruitless; he barely retained any details. It was just one big cobblestone-and-brick blur. Not an aesthetic he had any appreciation for. Give him steel and glass any day.

After a restless night marked by several failed attempts at devising a plan of action and/or escape, Rex finally fell asleep as the sun rose. Which, of course, meant that by the time he woke up, he had already missed a significant portion of the day. Fantastic. His job search was already off to a brilliant start. One quick shower later, and he was running out the door to follow up on some leads. The University would be a start.

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Had Rex died and gone to academic heaven? Where Mog Hill felt drab and mundane-- stifling, for a scientist such as himself-- there seemed to be an infectious energy the closer he got to the University. If there weren't any jobs available there, maybe he could find something here. Even if he had to play lab assistant to some scientist he was no doubt superior to (not that Rex had an ego).

Walking around here, at least, was doing wonders for his otherwise foul mood.

Martha had been doing a bit of exploring, and exploring had led to ending up with the desire to do a bit of research. Research in question this morning was trying to find a good source of medical material in order to figure out best to treat all the random people whom she'd come into contact with. What she didn't expect was the coming into contact with Rex.

She'd run into people whom she didn't know from the Barge before, but Martha was determine to make friends with as many people as she could. One of the odd things about Rex was the way that his face was normal. It was odd really considering she'd known him when his face still had scarring. Falling in step next to him, Martha grinned.

"Hello, Rex."

Rex was doing some window shopping, distracted by the gadgets displayed in one of the shops when Martha spoke. He blinked and turned to her, startled for a moment (he really needed to get used to seeing people from the Barge here), then offered a practiced smile of his own. "Martha. Hi." He ran a hand through his hair, looking around quickly. "It's such a big city, I wasn't expecting to run into someone from my... cohort."

"I can imagine. I'm always a bit surprised when I run into someone myself. It feels like such a big city then you just run into someone who you least expect." Martha smiled for a moment, and then she looked around a bit. "What brings you to this part of town? Have you found a place to stay yet?" If Martha and Snape didn't have Mozenrath, she likely would have offered him one, but at the moment it seemed like an ill-advised idea.

"Yeah, exactly," he nodded. He stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. "No, not yet. I'm still at the... Valhalla Inn? I just thought I'd check out the university, see if there were any jobs. I was told that they might have something for me. Either that or one of the hospitals. What about you?"

Rex snorted as he looked over some university literature. Tipitaka Medaw... What kind of a name was that? Well. At least the... Sheer Bridge Gate College looked promising. He didn't want to be faculty, of course (did they even need faculty?), but he could, perhaps, make connections, find some leads for a job that would put his engineering skills to practical use.

Now it was just a matter of finding his way to the right people. Rex had never actually had to go looking for a job before-- his last job found him, after all-- so this process was somewhat alien to him. Way to have no real life skills, Rex.

As the sun began to set, Rex continued on his little outing, heading into a... seedier sort of neighborhood, judging by the abundance of bars. He hugged his coat tighter around himself, trying to keep warm while also projecting a sort of stand-offish image. Because he didn't want any... undesirable people to actually approach him. Sure, he was used to a life of crime-- and thus, the criminal element (which he totally assumed everybody here was) was something he was accustomed to, especially after two years on the Barge-- but his crime was sophisticated, damn it. He didn't want to mingle with any simple two-bit thugs.

...

It should be worth noting that Rex spent a great deal of his life in isolation.

Griss Twist is rowdy and can be dangerous in certain areas, but nobody walks around there prepared to suddenly hear a shrill voice screaming "DUCK!" just before a five-foot pink explosion hurls over their head, somersaulting in mid-air with all limbs flailing wildly in different directions, and which, just before crashing into the nearest building, abruptly disappears. Said figure immediately reappears ten feet in the air six feet to the left and, despite the desperate windmilling of her arms and furious flapping of her tiny wings, smashes hard into the ground, catching herself by the face instead of the delicate, veined wings.

(Thankfully she is wearing a helmet.)

She picks herself up off the ground, brushing gravel off her elbows and feeling her helmet for cracks. It occurs to her then that someone was in her way when she made her brilliant attempt at a landing, there, and she whirls around to make sure she didn't, say, flatten them like a pancake. "Oh, shit! I'm sorry, did I get ya?"

Welcome to Baedal!

Edited 2011-12-06 12:07 (UTC)

Instinctively, once he hears the word "duck," Rex does just that, covering his head with his arms. At least those old army skills come in handy sometimes. He peeks up, just in time to see a streak of pink about to make a faceplant with the wall.

And then it vanishes, only to reappear, flailing, several feet off the ground and thennnn...

Ouch.

Rex watches with more fascination than concern, eyeing those wings in particular. It-- no, wait, she, that's a girl-- was like a life-sized fairy from a story book.

After a moment of staring, Rex gets back up, pulling gaze from her wings to her face.

"No, I'm fine," he answers, then realizes he should probably reciprocate. So, that neutral expression shifts of a furrowed browed look of concern. "Uh. Are you... okay? That looked like quite a fall."

To say Megan is accustomed to people staring at her wings is an understatement -- even in Mutant Town, people stared, because while it's easy to get used to people looking odd, giant, shimmery wings still attract a lot of notice. It's more like, at this point, she expects people to stare and is more surprised when they don't.

Not that her face is any less weird -- it can be difficult to tell which direction she's looking in, her eyes are so dark, and that can have an unsettling effect she is obviously trying to off-set by smiling brightly, teeth straight and white. (She counts her blessings; at least she's not got fangs.) "Oh, I'm fine!" She reaches up and knocks on her helmet, maybe a bit too hard considering how she just smashed it against the street, narrowly avoiding breaking her damn fool neck. "Mum always said I've got a hard head, anyway." She's able to be cavalier about it because she really does this all the time, so... look forward to that, Baedal.

"I really am sorry, I oughtta been looking where I was going but I'm not used to so many people bein' out this time of day and all the air currents are really weird here maybe 'cause there's less cars and airplanes and, um, air and stuff, dunno how all that works but like usually I don't hit people or almost-hit people so like if you're mad that's okay I can get out of your hair but, like, I dunno I could maybe buy you a beer or something to make up for it if you're mad." She takes one breath.

Rex has never seen somebody with black sclera before (which is more striking to him than the oddly colored irises), so once he catches sight of her eyes, it's hard to look away. "Um." He blinks, then laughs a little, dropping his gaze. "Right. Glad to see she wasn't wrong."

He brushes off the knees of his pants, and shakes his head. "It's fi--" Oh wow, she's still talking. Must be some incredible lung capacity, because he could swear this is all in one breath. Rex may be a little impressed. "I'm not mad, really. You didn't land on me, so..."

She hooks her hands behind her back and leans back precariously on the heels of her feet -- then again, she's got wings, it's probably easier for her to catch herself if she falls. She takes a few seconds to process what he's said, like her brain needs to catch up with the rest of her. When Megan opens her mouth it's like someone pulled a very long string on her back; she just keeps going until she reaches the end of her ramble, at which point she stops just as abruptly and usually stares at the other party as if waiting for an answer. Not that she'd notice if someone wasn't paying attention to anything she said to begin with. She hasn't yet noticed how often people seem to change the subject around her.

"Okay! Sometimes people yell which I guess is like fair enough, dude, but really it's not like this whole package came with an instruction manual so you've got to cut people a bit of slack, yeah?" Not considering that that may not entirely make sense to someone from a world different from hers, she barrels on: "I'm Megan, by the way, just, you know, in case you want to be like 'hey look out on that street Megan's practising again and she'll prolly slam into you so like keep an ear open'. Or, okay, maybe I should tell people that but there's a lot of people out today, maybe I could shout it. Get a megaphone or something, or a bike horn. What's your name?"

She's friendly, see! She just wants to make friends!

The Vault? He'd heard of this place! It had... xenians, if he remembered correctly. And, presumably, alcohol, which he could use since he basically hated his life right now. What better way to drown his "I miss my lover" sorrows than to go wander into an alien-filled club and get drunk?

The answer: there was no better way. So, he paid the cover, checked his coat, and ventured further into the club, totally unprepared for what he was going to find...

After all, it somehow escaped his notice that this was a sex club.

The first and primary stage, at least, is PG-13 in nature--but the rooms dotting the sides of the building are a bit more telling...and while PDA is not uncommon in nightclubs, it's particularly frequent and excessive here. Hasibe, for example, is in the process of disentangling herself from a man in his mid-forties; said man is wearing an extremely seventies brown corduroy suit and the slightly hazy look of someone beginning a descent into inebriation.

She cuts across the room neatly after making her exit from his lap, not particularly caring, at the moment, whether she's getting glitter on him or passersby. (Espionage, she has learned, is 25% interesting stuff, 75% getting through utter tediousness.)

As she recognizes Rex, vaguely, from the Network, he makes an excellent excuse for being busy with socialization...and she does actually want to check up on fellow members of her cohort. She flashes him a little smile, friendly without being overt about it. Her nonchalance is a touch striking, considering she is pretty much wearing an elaborately sparkly white bikini and gigantic heels, but she's used to and comfortable with the clothes.

"Hi, again." All roads, she is beginning to suspect, lead to this damn club. Which is good for business, at least. "You picked a good time to come in; the place won't get crazy for another couple of hours."

It's odd how being surrounded by people in very little clothing (okay, not surrounded, exactly... but it certainly feels that way to somebody who's never so much set foot in a strip club before) makes Rex himself feel under dressed. No, that isn't right... Exposed, however preposterous that is, since he's currently fully dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a black dress shirt (wrinkled, now, since they are the clothes he arrived in). He desperately wants to project the image of a cool, confident man, totally at ease here, but despite his best efforts, he wound up shrinking into himself, pressed his back against the bar, doing his best to imitate a fly on the wall.

This is so stupid. He's supposed to be fearsome. He could build bombs to end civilizations. He could reprogram people to turn against their friends, their loved ones. But he can't handle this?

Beer. That'll help him relax. Clutching a bottle close, he looks around... coolly (right, coolly.), stopping when he sees Hasibe. His brow raises just a touch once he takes in her outfit, but he quickly brings his eyes up to her face and grins falteringly back. As she approaches, he gives her a little half-wave (could he be any more awkward?) before bringing his bottle to his lips and downing a good gulp of the beer.

"Hi." The nervousness is starting to subside, at least, as he focuses on putting on the same friendly face he wore over the Network.

And that lasts for about half a second before he blurts out: "Wait, this is what it's like when it's not crazy?"

Cindy knows this is a sex club. It hasn't escaped her notice or her wallet, really, after paying for a single lapdance from one of the few men employees at this place. Nothing against women, but they just don't do it for Cindy, even when she had to act like they did for missions. But after one dance, she feels done and satisfied for the moment and with a decent tip slipped into the band of his g-string, Cindy sends the dancer on his way and makes her own way to the bar.

She hopes the drinks aren't watered down bullshit in a glass.

Meanwhile, Rex is on beer number two, hoping that the more he drinks, the more he blends in with the crowd. Right now, he knows he sticks out like a sore thumb. He can tell everybody else just... knows he doesn't belong here. They (whoever "they" are) are probably laughing at him at this very moment. He'd leave if he had anywhere to go, but he doesn't. No friends, no lover, no family. Maybe if he comes clean to Martha Jones...

No. He's not even going to consider that right now. He's here because he needs a distraction, and damn it, he's going to get a distraction.

He starts peeling at the label of his bottle, brow furrowed as he focuses on his task, a small frown set on his face. He barely notices the woman who moves next to him to order a drink, not at first. Then, after a beat, he glances over and--

It's the woman from the Network. Shit. He quickly turns his head, hoping she doesn't notice him, cheeks reddening because he's already embarrassed enough to be here. He's just going to take a good, long drink of his beer now.

Even if he hates beer.

They aren't laughing at him, except for one person: Cindy. But that is how Cindy rolls and really, if she didn't laugh him, she'd cry at how out of place he looks here with that babyface he and Arthur both share. Cry from laughter, anyway.

Honestly, her first idea was to ignore Rex on account of him not being Arthur, but turning away from her like she didn't see him makes her see him and brings her attention right around to him. He practically puts the spotlight on himself, Cindy thinks with an almost sadistic smile on her face as she slides closer to him to whisper in his ear. "I hope your babysitter has a side job as a dancer and she was called up on short notice. And that's apple juice in a beer bottle."

Rex stiffens a little, not because of Cindy, herself, so much as the fact that his personal bubble has just been breached. His frown twitches, deepening, and he draws away just enough so that they're not nose-to-nose when he turns to face her. His first instinct is to protest with a totally-not-petulant "I'm not a child!"

But he can guess how well that'll go over. So, he forces a smile. "Cocktail waitress, actually, but she's hoping to work her way up." Swallowing back his annoyance like that, attempting to take the teasing in stride? Painful. "And what are you up to?" He nods to some fellows. "Looking to take home a late-night snack?"

And that maturity of his lasted about three seconds. If Rex had any idea that there were actual vampires in Baedal, he would've reconsidered that remark.

While he draws away, Cindy remains in the same exact position, enjoying popping that stupid little bubble of his. "Nope. I have one waiting for me anyway. I've just come here so he doesn't get to used to me riding him and him alone."

Oh, Jesus Christ and all his disciplines. Why is Cindy allowed out in public? Why is she allowed to speak?

"What are you doing here? Please tell me they carded you at the very least."

Rex cringes a little, because the less he knows about her sex life, the better. But it's too late. Now he knows that she's getting some, regularly, while he can't even have the one person he wants. Swallowing back his bitterness, he murmurs, "Lucky man."

He tugs at the torn label on his beer sullenly and lets out a dry laugh. "No, thankfully. I don't even have an ID." It sort of caught on fire when he did, four years ago. "And I'm here to... check out the..." He looks around, then sighs and shakes his head. "I came here by accident. Happy?"

"I'll make sure to pass on the message." Which would be weird if Cindy actually meant to do it. Telling Arthur his face twin wishes him well in his sex life? Not allowed.

Cindy snickers which she then turns into a full on laugh as the bartender finally shows up with her cranberry and vodka. She tips the glass toward Rex, carefully enough that not a drip slips out. "Why, yes, now I am. By accident? What, didn't it occur to you with all the naked women that this wasn't Chuck E. Cheese?"

Well, this is mortifying. He can work through high-stress, life-or-death situations with ease, but social awkwardness has always been, and will always be, Rex's Achilles heel. He ducks his head a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I--" He drops his palms flat on the bar and frowns at her. "I didn't know this is a-- sex club." He takes a drink and clears his throat. "I was told. That. This place had... interesting people." Which is true, to be fair. Just not in the way he anticipated.

He lets out a frustrated growl. "Look, I already paid the cover by the time I realized what it was!"

Cindy could be cruel and ask him to speak a little louder, but even she has a soft spot for the socially inept, and really, it does help Rex's case that he looks rather familiar. Not she is not in love with Arthur. Just a little comfortable and maybe attached to the idiot. That is all.

First she grins at him and sips at her drink through the little brown straw the bartender so nicely supplied her with. "Strippers are interesting people once you ignore they're taking off their clothes for money." Granted, she had a short term assignment as one forever ago and knew a couple as friends herself, so it's not like Cindy is just talking out of her ass. She continues to work at her drink before reaching into the v-neck of her lowcut top before taking out a couple of small bills and handing it to Rex.

"Go get a lapdance. Tell them you're a doctor. That'll get some of them rearing to go."

He actually laughs, since she does have a point on that. "Oh, I'm sure they are. No shortage of interesting stories, at least." He assumes, anyway, having never met a stripper (to his knowledge) until coming here.

He lifts his beer up to check his progress, idly considering switching over to something stronger after it was finished. When the bills are thrust at him, he accepts them without thinking, then realizes that they were in her cleavage and also they're for strippers, so... What.

"I, uh, no, that's okay. Thanks. I don't need a lap dance." He offers the bills back. "I never saw the appeal."

Unless there were snakes involved in the act somehow.

"You never saw the appeal because you've never had one." Once again popping that useless personal space bubble of his, Cindy grabs him by the shoulders, turning him around, and make shim face glitter covered redhead in matching red feathers. The woman looks nothing less than surprised, but with the fact that Cindy is waving more money towards her, it doesn't last very long.

"He wants a lapdance. He's also a virgin. Give it to him good." Doesn't Rex regret meeting Cindy now?

"And you ha--" Rex yelps out in protest, but that doesn't stop her from touching him and turning him around to face some strange woman with a lot of glitter and feathers. Attractive, yes, but no, he doesn't want to be enticed right now! He's fairly certain that getting a lapdance right now would fall under the "unfaithful" category. Then again, that didn't stop his fellow soldiers when they were on leave-- not that Rex ever felt the inclination to model his behavior after theirs.

He shakes his head at the dancer, forcing out a laugh. "I'm really not interested, thank you." Then, frowning at Cindy, he hisses out, "And I'm not a virgin!"

Cindy shrugs and turns back to her drink, figuring that there's another reason why he's turning down the dance. "Oh, so you're gay." She says it as easily as she would state that it's raining outside.

If he is, no big deal to her. If he's not, well... whatever. He's either scared of vaginas or gay. There is no middle ground with Cindy.

Somewhat frazzled, he turns back to his own drink and finishes it off to keep from sputtering out a response to the "gay" remark. Sliding the empty bottle away, he mutters, "Not exactly." He drums his fingers on the bar, checking out his options for Drink Number Three. "Not every man needs... that."

And little does he know that he's in a place where you can get any other "that" that comes to mind. In any case, he's going to try to change the subject now. "I still don't know your name. Seems like I should, since you just tried to buy me a lapdance."

"You certainly need to loosen the fuck up." Oddly enough, this uptight nature of Rex's reminds Cindy so much of Arthur. Perhaps the two men are more alike than it seems.

"That you refused," Cindy supplies, finishing off his statement for shits and giggles just after a long gulp. "I'm so disappointed now that I'm not sure you deserve to know it." Another pause. "Cynthia."

"Yeah, well," he taps a finger on the discarded bottle. "That's what I'm trying to do." It was just hard to loosen up when there were half-naked people around. At least, it was hard for Rex to loosen up in these circumstances.

He finally manages to get the bartender's attention, ordering a whiskey and soda because, well, that'll make more of an impact on his sobriety than the beer has been.

"Cynthia," he repeats, looking at her like he's gauging whether she looks like a Cynthia or not. "So either I'm deserving or that's a fake name." Look, Rex is trying to be cool and banter. "Have you... been here very long?"

"You're not doing it very well in my eyes," Cindy muses as she dranks her drink and orders up a beer chaser. "You get an F."

Entirely the latter of those two options. Only a few people know her real name and it's not because they deserved to know it. It's just because Cindy felt that fellow Xenians needed to connect on a more personal level. Nothing more, nothing less. Even Arthur still only knows her as Cynthia.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She probably looks more like a Cynthia than a Svetlana or whatever Remy thinks her alias should be. "A few months, give or take."

"And I've finally gotten my first F," he remarks, taking a small sip of his drink. He's not quite used to hard liquor yet, having only drank it intermittently, so he doesn't do a good job of hiding a brief wince. As if to prove that he can handle his drink, he takes another, deeper sip and sets the glass down. Plucking the narrow stirrer from his drink, he idly twirls it between his fingers. "A few months... That makes you the most... experienced with this place. Of the few people I've met, anyway."

If Cindy had any say, he'd be sipping on apple juice and graham crackers instead of booze and beer nuts. But it's a good thing Cindy doesn't have any say, though, not like she ever lets that stop her.

"So what's my prize?" she says, batting her eyelashes in a way that's clearly for trolling and not flirting. "A drink on your tab?"

Apple juice and graham crackers actually sounds pretty tasty, but Rex will have to eat those in private, so as to avoid mockery. He does have something of a sugar addiction. But he likes to blame it on all those all-nighters in the lab and not the fact that he looks twelve.

"I have a feeling if I agreed to that, you'd order a bottle of Cristal."

"I can't help it if I have good taste." Not that Cindy considers Cristal the bastion of good taste, but she would order something equally, if not more, expensive. Just because it's not coming out of her pocketbook. No shame whatsoever.

"But it's clear you don't know how to treat a lady," Cindy continues on, waving her straw at him. "The first thing you should have done was buy me a drink. You'll never get laid at this rate."

In general. Cindy likes sex, but sex with two guys who look the same and aren't twins is a bit much even for her.

"I know how to get l--" No, Rex. Don't even try. He's only ever gotten laid in spite of himself, not because of any efforts on his part. He glances down and drinks quickly. "I'm not looking to get laid. Especially not..."

Here. He's going to say 'here,' but he stops himself as he spots a woman out of the corner of his vision. At least, he assumes she's a woman, based on the choice of clothes. She's lacking... mammalian secondary sex characteristics, so he can't say for certain. Hairless, her skin's a bluish-gray, save for a stripe of orange beginning at her throat and progressing down into the plunge of her top. The coloration calls to mind the ringneck snake, so...

Rex is just staring at her the way most men would stare at the stripper Cindy tried to send to him.

And then, after a beat, Rex realizes that he's probably being rude and quickly turns back to Cindy.

"You're right, I don't know what I'm doing. Can I buy you a drink? To make up for..." He waves a hand in a vague direction, as if to somehow communicate "the lapdance."

Yes, this will hide his fixation on non-human women very well.

When he turns back, Cindy greets him with her chin in the palm of her hand as she leans against the bartop with a shit-eating grin on her face. You would think that she just discovered Rex's deepest and darkest secrets without even trying. It's all clear to her now. He's not gay. He's not scared of women. He's just attracted to xenian women.

Cindy finishes her drink and reaches over to grab Rex by the top of his head (She's touching him! Again!), turning his head back to the women he was practically eyefucking. "How about you save your allowance and buy her a drink instead?"

He tries to duck his head out of the way, but he's not exactly successful and finds himself staring at the xenian woman again. She is beautiful, and he kind of wants to touch her skin now that he sees scales, but no, no, no, he can't do this to Iago. It doesn't matter that Iago isn't here, and Rex has been missing the company of the opposite sex for some time. And if he keeps on down this mental path, it's going to be a slippery slope into the xenian woman's bed. Assuming she'd have him.

"I'm in a relationship!" he blurts out, both to the woman-who-was-not-asking and Cindy. Well. How awkward.

And with enough force to give Rec whiplash, she turns his head back to her, blue eyes searching his face for any lies.

"With who?" By a miracle, Cindy doesn't laugh about it. Actually, she's rather serious about it now. She isn't about to encourage Rex to cheat if there isn't an open relationship between him and whoever else. After all, nobody knows about how the hurt party feels better than her.

He expected laughter, so when he finds seriousness in Cindy's voice and expression, it's pretty much the biggest shock of the night. Yes, even bigger than "sex club" and "beautiful reptile women."

"Somebody who isn't here," he answers with a small grimace. Iago's not here, so there's no reason to bring him up, anyway. Besides... how much more explaining would he have to do if he said that? Oh, I was just dating one of Shakespeare's greatest villains while we were trapped on a prison boat together...

One version of Cindy, the version that somebody here is familiar with but she herself isn't, once dated a creation of Shakespeare too, but whether or not Tybalt was a villian is contested in her eyes. Anyway, even if Cindy remembered this, she wouldn't mention it. Sharing heartwarming stories isn't her thing.

"Girl or guy?" Because even if Rex didn't say it outright earlier when she called him gay, he didn't deny it either.

"Um." Rex makes a little face and takes a drink of his whiskey, mumbling around the rim of the glass: "Guy." He opens his mouth, as if he should explain, but then... what's there to explain? She's likely to tease him regardless. Irksome, but ultimately harmless, so he has nothing to fear. So he just leaves it at that. Guy. Done.

Believe it or not, Cindy does have some restraint. Most times she has to dig down deep for it, but this time, it's not much of a struggle to take it out and slap it down on the shiny wood bartop between them.

"Then go home. You don't belong here." As if that was hard to see from jump. Rex doesn't belong here around what could be considered temptation. Cindy thinks he needs to go home and under some blankie with cartoons, safe and sound.

[IDK DO WHAT YOU WILL IF YOU WANNA.]

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open; baby's first exploration

Brock Marsh - Out and About

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Tipitaka Medaw University

Griss Twist - ALSO OUT AND ABOUT

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lmao i suck ._.

The Vault

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MISC