IC INBOX / BUSINESS CARD ( ARCHIVE AS OF 12/13 )

[manuscripture]

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[ Somewhere around town-- at the bookstore, the Tomoe-Kaname Bakery, attached to posts and notice boards --you find a small white notecard. On it is printed a little message and some numbers in ornate lettering. If you look closely, it reads the following: ]

Rohan Kishibe, Mangaka & Visual Artist
Owner Pro Tempore of Ebony Threads Tailor Shop
Highly Experienced.
Commissions & Advertising For Hire
Pay Negotiable.
Contact At: 512.66.730.91 for inquiries
Castle Lüvchaque - Directly North of Bavan per appointment ONLY.

(( feel free to use this as an action-based prompt too. any random interactions will MOST LIKELY take place in the form of walk-ins at the tailor shop unless it's pre-planned. just drop a starter in here! ))

Comments

[manuscripture]

[ With nothing to live up to, there is not much expected of him. That in itself is fine by Rohan's standards. He keeps his bar set pretty high and it is apparent that he isn't lowering it for anyone. Jotaro skates by on merits earned purely through chance.

There is nothing greedy about what he is doing. His hands are not going anywhere they do not need to be, respecting their space without the sense of entitlement he is so known for.

Jotaro wants to be reminded that he makes Rohan happy and that he doesn't need to change anything about himself to do so? He can have that fact wrapped up in a kiss uncharacteristically affectionate and able to articulate the message without clunky, awkward words that neither of them are very good at. His fingertips slip back on Jotaro's neck to fiddle with his hairline, playing in his dark hair as another gesture meant to relax him by any stretch. His tail winds further around that ankle, squeezing as it would if he were holding his hand.

Feeling are awful and affection is gross. He lacks finesse but fakes it pretty well if it is left undetected. ]

[starmark]

[For a while, it stays as simple as that. There aren't a lot of words to exchange, not much to be concerned with save for standing and letting the tension ease in time with the slow rhythm of kisses. And indeed, there are arguably as many lapses in that rhythm as there are beats of it; some of the time Jotaro spends simply with his eyes closed, holding still and radiating warmth and trying to memorize the feeling of respite from needing to think at all.

Eventually, though, things wind down and taper off. Eventually they've been standing there together for a while, and continuing to do so for much longer starts to seem a trifle silly. Eventually he catches Rohan's shoulder with his hand and runs his thumb over the curve of it, drawing away and this time doing a little bit more to maintain a separation between them rather than staying close enough to invite it to close yet again.]

My legs are starting to get tired. Isn't your tail?

[manuscripture]

[ It is only when it is pointed out that he realizes all of the muscles in his abdomen are getting a little tight. Sitting on himself is easier than trying to keep 'standing' the way he has been for the time that has gone by. He seems comfortable with stopping there, leaning back a touch more to compensate for the budding soreness in his trunk.

Make him lean down next time. ]

Yeah. [ He casts a glance to the door. ] It's not my tail as much as it is everything that needs to work on holding me up. [ Another fun little lesson about himself. It's not all Snakebutt taking the credit. ]

You have also been standing in nothing but your underwear for well over an hour. [ NOT THAT HE MINDS. He's only pointing it out. ] Let's go back out front and I can close up again. [ He slips a hand from wherever it decided to plant itself, pausing on Jotaro's upper arm for a long enough beat to notice. He could be beckoning for him to follow or he could just be touching him for the sake of doing it. Nonetheless, it fleets away when he parts from him.

He will follow.

Space between them grows as Rohan takes his leave, slithering out from the workroom and back out to the storefront where he goes to pick up the pile of the gargoyle's clothes to hold them out when he decides to come out too.

That is quite enough excitement for one night. ]

[starmark]

Oh, good. You're not going to make me fly you home pantsless.

[He says, as he follows Rohan out a few steps behind and reaches for his clothes when they're offered.

As he begins the somewhat delicate process of stepping back into them, he lets his attention wander around the interior of the shop, mostly to watch Rohan go about his business, but also somewhat to just take in the atmosphere.

As he does, a thought strikes him, and the opportunity for a one-liner arises.]

...Hey. Aren't you glad you let me in after all?

[manuscripture]

Hush.

[ Rohan rolls his eyes, heading to whichever mirror he unveiled earlier to throw the sheet back over it. He'll have to do the other two in the back the next time he is in before he ends up breaking it. Subtract all the super garbage things about being a naga and busting mirrors is the worst part. A tailor who breaks mirrors. Who would have thought... ]

Stop being a smartass and put your pants on. [ Upon pinning up the sheet, he heads to the little lamp on the desk. ] Hurry up.

[starmark]

[This looks so much more awkward than it actually is, but here he goes, getting back into his pants and actually looking reasonably satisfied with himself for being called on his smartassery.

Once that's completed, though, he decides to make himself useful by getting out of the way of Rohan's bustling, which makes him decide to head for the doors to idle there until his roommate (guy...person...friend...we kissed...thing) is done with everything he's doing.

It's only when he gets there that he notices something he hadn't before, what with all the banter and commotion of his arrival: the two paintings hanging close by, one of a koi fish mermaid that he's sure he's seen and complimented before when it was in its middle stages, and the other —

...Oh.]

[manuscripture]

[ Jotaro's now-clothed gawking has Rohan wrinkling up his nose in the way he just DOES when something isn't quite going his way. He is clearly not the one being stared at-- ]

What are you doing?

[ He looks up and sees his two paintings over the desk, somewhat framing himself as the middle piece with them on either side. He forgets that he put them there sometimes despite being arguably his best pieces. ]

What do you think of those?

[ He's also forgotten that the one of Jotaro is one that he sort of discreetly worked on and then hid around the house to make it not look like an Ode to Thirst during its creation. ]

I couldn't think of anywhere better to put them to keep them safe.

[starmark]

I don't remember seeing this one.

[Him and Vietnam. When she'd disappeared Rohan had been all but beside himself with his emotions, sad and listless with no answers in sight. And here is a painting of himself, on the same level as her — the same status, the same reverence.

It goes without saying that the art itself is breathtaking. What's moreso is that now he has understanding to tie into it — a concrete example in practice of Rohan's feelings expressed through his art instead of his words.]

I think I remember telling you the first time I saw this one of her, that you made it look like she really was frozen in time. That that's what it looks like, when everything stops and you're the only one who can see it.

I...didn't realize. That...that this is how I look to other people. Maybe. That it's...this.

[He motions faintly at the painting of himself.]

I never see...this. I'm glad you do. Glad I've gotten to now, too, for a little while.

[manuscripture]

[ He looks at Jotaro and then back at the paintings. Back to Jotaro again. The conversation about the one of Vietnam is one he remembers quite clearly. It had been a struggle to capture everything he needed but the dim lighting catches flecks of gold leaf set into her eyes. There is the same gleam in Jotaro's but in another color which glazes his scales under simulated painted moonlight. ]

I've been seeing it since the day I had to carve your skin off when you transformed. [ And ruined the couch. ] You need to be reminded not to forget certain things a lot. I don't embellish when it comes to seeing actual beauty. You know that. [ Not to mention that both of these pieces are on the same level and depict arguably the most important people he has met here. ]

You should see it more often. [ He waits for a beat before shutting the light off, leaving his eyes glowing a little path toward the door. ]

Fly me home, will you?

[starmark]

That sounded cute. Are you really that fine with sounding cute?

["Fly me home, will you", while he slithers away with his eyes glowing, while the room ends up in darkness that does absolutely nothing to inhibit his gargoyle's sight in the first place. It's like something out of a movie. Maybe that's fitting, because a lot of this is starting to feel a little bit surreal, like a dream, like he almost can't believe it's happening.

But he follows, drawing his wings in close to avoid knocking into anything with them, and yet already anticipating being outside where he can stretch them wide and put them to their proper use once again.]

C'mon. I'll get you home.

feel free to close it up here if you want!

[manuscripture]

[ ughGh. If the last half of this exchange hadn't been cheesy enough. He just had to--

The path of light narrows, squinting when he turns around. ]

Don't make it a thing. [ Pointed remark being lobbed in Jotaro's direction upon being asked if he wants to intentionally sound cute. Despite all that, he is already making short work of 'hopping into Jotaro's arms' by which it means that he is finding places to put his tail and cling to him. ]

Be happy that I want to fly and that I won't complain about it.

[ FOR NOW... ]

all set!

[starmark]

Hah. All right, that's fair enough.

[And as Rohan is clambering up into what's been rapidly becoming his usual spot, Jotaro is already shifting to accommodate him as always.

Once they're all secure, and the tailor shop is locked and dark and silent, he bends and springs into the air, and they begin winging their way toward home.

Not a bad night out, all told.

(Even if he was rendered pantsless for a fair portion of it.) ]