Join me for a show?
His message disappeared into the depths of technology. Sophia mentioned theater the night they met. Unfortunately, she had other plans already made. Seven smiled to himself when he expressed his playful jealousy for the other party. He was satisfied with the promise of watching live performances together at a tea bar in the Enlightenment district instead next weekend and summoned the second number. After a few moments, he learned Prisha was swamped with course work, apparently. A student at MSU, she had a pending due date that occupied the entire weekend. Seven sent along well-wishes, but it was without any sense of disappointment that he laid the wallet on the table and gazed around the quickly filling burlesque.
He may be without the company of either lady, but the three of them had a memorable time together after Jay passed out in his room. It would have been inhospitable to leave one behind, rude almost. Therefore, it was Seven's sure and polite duty to invite the suddenly dateless girl to join them. At the exit of another room, the next morning, the three parted with vague promises to see each other again. For Seven’s part, he had been sincere. Apparently that had been one-sided. Or, perhaps, two-sided.
About then, the server rounded in front of him. He occupied a raised area along the wall. He wanted a good view.
“Vouvray Moelleux 'Goutte d'Or'?” she asked, French accent perfectly pronounced. A chilled bottle of white wine beaded sweat, captured expertly by a white towel, was perched in her arm.
He rose to examine it. Hair fell loose around his ears as he looked down.
“Lovely,” he said and retook his seat and crossed one leg over the other.
She laid out two glasses, but Seven’s hand hovered near one, blocking the second pour.
“It seems I have been stood up,” he smiled good-naturedly. With a sigh, he glanced at the stage beyond. He would still enjoy the show. The bill promised an interpretive performance sure to be quite moving, and Seven had always been fond of retellings of old stories.
She looked him up and down. His tuxedo jacket beneath hung completely unbuttoned. The sheen of bare skin was shadowed by a sheer layer beneath. Decorated with a mosaic of metallic thread shaped like scales against the lay of his chest. Bracelets lay along one wrist. The other wore a vintage timepiece.
“Honey, I don’t think you’ll be alone for long,” she winked and left the second glass where it was.
“Not with you here,” his smile brightened, and he thought her amusement to be sincere as the lights flickered to signal the nearing of the show.
((ooc: Please feel free to NPC the server as anyone)).
His message disappeared into the depths of technology. Sophia mentioned theater the night they met. Unfortunately, she had other plans already made. Seven smiled to himself when he expressed his playful jealousy for the other party. He was satisfied with the promise of watching live performances together at a tea bar in the Enlightenment district instead next weekend and summoned the second number. After a few moments, he learned Prisha was swamped with course work, apparently. A student at MSU, she had a pending due date that occupied the entire weekend. Seven sent along well-wishes, but it was without any sense of disappointment that he laid the wallet on the table and gazed around the quickly filling burlesque.
He may be without the company of either lady, but the three of them had a memorable time together after Jay passed out in his room. It would have been inhospitable to leave one behind, rude almost. Therefore, it was Seven's sure and polite duty to invite the suddenly dateless girl to join them. At the exit of another room, the next morning, the three parted with vague promises to see each other again. For Seven’s part, he had been sincere. Apparently that had been one-sided. Or, perhaps, two-sided.
About then, the server rounded in front of him. He occupied a raised area along the wall. He wanted a good view.
“Vouvray Moelleux 'Goutte d'Or'?” she asked, French accent perfectly pronounced. A chilled bottle of white wine beaded sweat, captured expertly by a white towel, was perched in her arm.
He rose to examine it. Hair fell loose around his ears as he looked down.
“Lovely,” he said and retook his seat and crossed one leg over the other.
She laid out two glasses, but Seven’s hand hovered near one, blocking the second pour.
“It seems I have been stood up,” he smiled good-naturedly. With a sigh, he glanced at the stage beyond. He would still enjoy the show. The bill promised an interpretive performance sure to be quite moving, and Seven had always been fond of retellings of old stories.
She looked him up and down. His tuxedo jacket beneath hung completely unbuttoned. The sheen of bare skin was shadowed by a sheer layer beneath. Decorated with a mosaic of metallic thread shaped like scales against the lay of his chest. Bracelets lay along one wrist. The other wore a vintage timepiece.
“Honey, I don’t think you’ll be alone for long,” she winked and left the second glass where it was.
“Not with you here,” his smile brightened, and he thought her amusement to be sincere as the lights flickered to signal the nearing of the show.
((ooc: Please feel free to NPC the server as anyone)).