Aaaaaaaaa--

[thewalkinchick]

Gooooooood morning, mun!

Now was that so hard? You really ought to do something about that procrastination thing. I don't know how you get anything done.

But now that this has been taken care of, we can have some real fun. Your friends have so many interesting people to work with, don't they? I do fancy myself some Gunslingers when it comes to little boredom-alleviating thrills. But then, I think you knew that already.

Is Lloyd anywhere around? Come on, don't be shy. I might cook you up something fancy if you're a good boy. How does foie gras sound, hm? _{Probably best not to wonder where it came from, but hey, foie gras is foie gras.}

Comments

Flagg party~

[unflagging]

Tell that goose his goose is cooked.

Hi!

[Cool. Other levels.]

[thewalkinchick]

I'll be sure to give it the recipe.

Hello there. Glad to know I make quite the handsome devil.

[unflagging]

Likewise, I'm sure.

[thewalkinchick]

More than some might expect!

So, shall we get chitty-chatty over drinks? On me.

[unflagging]

Sure. Why not? Even if we both know what we're each going to say.

[thewalkinchick]

Do we?

Do we really?

[unflagging]

You tell me.

[thewalkinchick]

That depends. How well can you think like a lady?

Because I know I don't even pretend to know what men are thinking most of the time.

*teasing, teasing~*

[unflagging]

See, I knew you were going to say that.

[thewalkinchick]

It's settled then! Let's go get drunk and harass Gunslingers.

[unflagging]

Sounds good.

See how amenable I am when you don't snap and point at me? I knew we were of a mind. Nice boots, by the way. They look comfortable.

[thewalkinchick]

I know. It's ridiculous, isn't it? There's so many rude people about, it's a shame.

And thank you! I think the jacket suits you far better. I've been thinking about raiding some of the shops on the strip for something a little more fancy.

[unflagging]

[A...ghast. Dramatically so.]

What? And meddle with a true classic?

Anyway--like what?

[thewalkinchick]

What, and pass up the opportunity to tease Lloyd even more?

Something a little more feminine, now that I have some proper leisure time. Besides, with so many pretty things and no one to wear them it's kind of a waste, don't you think?

[unflagging]

[Suddenly he's both thinking and not thinking of her his her their her your tits. Yup. He's a big ol' bag of wants, after all.]

Better you deal with that surplus than me. That's what I think.

[thewalkinchick]

*that's okay she's busy thinking about his her his their his your dick. It evens out!*

Probably for the best. A bit of ass is needed to look decent in heels.

[unflagging]

[A. Pause.]

Prove it...

[thewalkinchick]

*smirk.*

I need a pair of heels.

[unflagging]

... ... ... I guess that limits this exercise somewhat, doesn't it?

[thewalkinchick]

Shall I pull out my "ruby slippers"?

[unflagging]

Oh, yes, please.

[thewalkinchick]

*it takes a certain talent to stand up on tiptoe and click your heels at the same time.

And oh, those are fancy boots! Can't go wrong with three-inch-heeled red go-gos.*

[unflagging]

[No you certainly can not.]

There's no place like right here.

[thewalkinchick]

So very true. There really is no place like Vegas.

[unflagging]

Almost like home. Almost.

I never found home all that great.

[Because when you can quote A Fistful of Dollars and be meta and ironic about it, why would you ever not?]

[unflagging]

[He sees wat ur doin in other threads, okay?]

Be nice to poor Lloyd, now. Worse than death, remember?

[devilzrighthand]

Jesus fuckin' Christ.

[ Shy? No. Dumbstruck is more like it. ]

eeeeee~

[thewalkinchick]

No, not at all!

Wrong plumbing hookups, at the very least.

So about that foie gras...

[devilzrighthand]

[ Yeah, all kinds of wrong. It's not like the Walkin' Dude is an easy guy to handle on a normal day, but after a spoteneous sex-change operation? So much of Lloyd's concentration goes into trying not to stare (and failing spectacularly at that one task) that he ends up saying the unthinkable: ]

I ain't hungry.

I mean, uh -- maybe a drink?

[ He could really use a drink. ]

[thewalkinchick]

*She doesn't mind the staring. She enjoys it!

But suggesting a drink? Oh, that just makes her grin.*

Why, Lloyd. Asking me out for a drink. Aren't you a forward gentleman...

But sure, sure. Let's have a drink. Pick your poison.

[devilzrighthand]

[ Lloyd isn't any kind of any gentleman and he knows it. He also knows Flagg is messing with him -- what else could he be doing? -- which doesn't stop his face from acquiring a reddish shade. He looks away, wetting his lips. ]

Bourbon, like usual.

[ Aaand his gaze slides right back to Flagg and all of his... her newly acquired curves. It's not his place to ask. Randy Flagg works in mysterious ways and all, but playing at business as usual is proving really fucking difficult. ]

[thewalkinchick]

*she watches his gaze, an amused smirk on her face the whole time. She shifts her weight slowly to one hip, watching his reaction. Curves? Oh yes. And she knows how to use 'em.*

Bourbon it is.

*Moment over! She grabs two glasses and a bottle, pouring him a shot of bourbon and nudging it over to him. She pours one for herself, but she stands there holding it without drinking. Watching him. Like a cat watching a mouse.

Or like a Lloyd watching a Trask.*

[noniceguy]

[Sorry, he's just going to stare a minute before actually responding. Because, Flagg? A woman? -the hell?

He's slightly uneasy.] Boredom and real fun huh? What sort of things you planning on dragging your mun through?

[thewalkinchick]

The best kind of things. If you really must know. Larry.

[noniceguy]

Well, it was asked more on the behalf of my own mun. I really don't care to know. [No, he does. He just has a feeling he knows what those sort of things will be.]

[mordredeschain]

Cry thy pardon for bein' late, sai Walter.