on potentially home-hunting

[dielikeyouwantme]

What do you mean, "you're not sure"? Wasn't I only just telling someone~ that second guessing is supremely unattractive? It's not any more handsome on your little mug, I can say that much for certain.

I'm a sight better judge of these things than you are, love. And why shouldn't I be? Haven't I been alive long enough? Don't I have a better sense of what's too much to handle? You can do it, and I'm apt to get bored with you, if you don't.

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[redcinemareel]

[She's so used to seeing herself in the mirror that this encounter will be just fine.]

Boredom is simple to solve~. [GRINS]

[dielikeyouwantme]

[And she shares headspace with so many face-doubles that it's beginning to seem commonplace.]

I've got a fine idea for an experiment, should it become impossible to bear. How many of these headmates of mine would rise up against me, if I took a blade to our darling writer boy's sweet little eyes? They are pretty. Almost the same colour as yours and mine. ♥

[redcinemareel]

If they are anything like mine, they wold dare not to. Fear is a wonderful thing, especially when it's well founded!

[dielikeyouwantme]

Fear is no match for stupidity. So many foolish, ~noble~ types, here. I can count at least five who would come running, if he screamed.

[redcinemareel]

But those are the best types, you know.

[Grell does tilt her head to one side, with a bemused smile.] He? My, my~! How rare is that?

[dielikeyouwantme]

They're delightful. It wouldn't be any fun, really, if no one came. Like a party with no RSVPs, when I've gone to all the trouble of decorating writer boy's cheeks with his green-y eyes.

[For as much as she puts on dislike for the kid behind the keyboard, she does look a little delighted, at that.] The rarest. Boys who care, boys who write, they're some precious, near-extinct breed of animal. It would almost be a shame, to have to rid myself of him.

[god_not_goth]

Reaper. Come over here. Now.

[dielikeyouwantme]

Oh, that's adorable. I do hope that's a rhetorical sort of command. ♥

[god_not_goth]

DID I STUTTER?!

[His voice would have a rather booming quality to it that echoed through whatever space dear_mun had placed them in.]

[dielikeyouwantme]

[And she really isn't phased. Frankly, she's used to supervisors attempting to intimidate her. If she had one on her, she'd whip out the nailfile and ignore him completely.]

Did you, dear? I wasn't listening particularly hard.

Sorry about that o7

[god_not_goth]

[Snapping he would run towards Grell with the intent of grabbing her neck.]

You disgrace my name and now you joke with me?!

[His speed was clearly that of supernatural prowess and if he managed to grab her neck she would find his strength was beyond that of a mortal as well.]

oh you're more than fine

[dielikeyouwantme]

[What, she wonders, is this fellow's deal? His fingers graze the chain that hangs from her glasses, as she springs back, jostling the frames down the bridge of her nose. Her vision is blurry, for a moment, before she tosses her head, knocking them back into place.]

Our first night out, and you're already getting handsy. My, you're not quite the gentleman, are you? Do I know you, from somewhere?

[sircassidy]

...So...that's definitely happening.

And HAHAHA, "same hat".

[dielikeyouwantme]

I'm not sure that it is! Check my temperature, I may be coming down with a fit of hysteria.

I think you're going to need glasses, too, dear. There are no hats, here.

[sircassidy]

The kind where you're laughing as hard as I am, I hope, and not the one where Victorian doctors make you rub one out.

Oh, hey, sorry. That was another ~internet~ thing. Here, this is what I meant.

[dielikeyouwantme]

Those would be the best kind of doctors, if they weren't commonly sweaty old men.

Sigh ♥. I do love the internet.

[sircassidy]

Courtney just suggested you'd probably like those kinds of doctors to be like Jon, huh?



I know, that's why you're cool and my brother's crazy.

[dielikeyouwantme]

You're both quite clever, aren't you? Pity he won't play~ with~ me~.

Speaking of playing, and of your brother, he's been rather nice, lately. It's boring. I think he's trying to force me into moving on.

[hisbutler_bound]

Second guessing would be, as much as you second guess your lady. A proper lady would show more courtesy, but we've already seen to that, haven't we?

Brash, loud, unrefined, I would hardly see you fit to judge such a decision without help. You never know when to quit.

[dielikeyouwantme]

I'm more proper than he is. I have every intention of being as sweet as spiked punch, once he gives me what I want.

Quitting is for bo~ring people. I'm anything but that, darling dear.

[hardknoxlife]

[ And don't mind us poking our nose in here, oh ye recipient of the "second guessing being unattractive lecture. ]

Having a spot of trouble with the mundane, Mister Sutcliffe?

[dielikeyouwantme]

[Neither Grell nor the writer type could possibly object to Ronald being here.]

I'm having a deluge of trouble, with just about everyone.

[hardknoxlife]

[ Welp, that's what he's here for. Plunking himself down and ready to lend an ear. ]

Well, sit yourself down and tell me what's got your knickers in a right twist.

[dielikeyouwantme]

[It could only be better if Ronald came equipped with large quantities of something caffeinated.]

Writer Boy is behaving in the most unfortunate way. First he says we'll go some place, then he whistles a different tune. He's so hot and cold, I'm apt to catch a fever.

[hardknoxlife]

[ How about something that packs more of a punch than caffeine? Oh say a good six pack? ]

Kind of noticed they're fickle, these writers. Mine was going on about oh, four different places before we finally decided on the Tower. Course, it took a bleeding long time for the twit to get decided.

But don't you worry none! I'm sure yours'll get along and settle on one place sure enough.