open to all;

[theliar]

✿ how it works ✿


✿ Comment with one of your muses.
✿ Specify which muse you want of mine from THIS LIST. If you don't specify, I'll choose one for you!
✿ Set up a scene or prompt (song lyrics, a photo, a quote, etc). If you are lost for ideas, try PLOT PUNTER to generate an idea! Or just leave it blank and up to me.
✿ Profit! Tags will be slower than my game tags probably, so we'll probably backtag into forever. And if that's fine with you it's fine with me!

Comments

[needleworking]

[ It's incredibly strange to Aramis how much she seems to know about his life and his whole world. Though no stranger than finding yourself in the future with devices and people that make little to no sense to you at all. If Athos would here he would have already formulated some sort of plan to get them home or at the very least offended Myka in half a dozen different ways. He's never been particularly good with the fairer sex. Even Porthos has more luck and he tends to stick his foot into his mouth more times than he succeeds. Athos always finds new and interesting ways to offend the women of Paris. If Aramis didn't know him any better than he would think it was some sort of a game to his old friend.

She allows him entry into her bedroom and he proceeds to enter as she continues to speak. He nods simply when she insists he call her Myka. He'll abide by her rules. He does find the lack of knocking when entering a bedroom not your own little strange, but he's going to just put that on the time difference. Things seemed to have progressed in quite a strange fashion. ] Of course. [ Aramis approaches a chair and sits. He makes no attempt to come closer to her bed to see what she's reading. He doesn't wish to invade her space or get a closer look at the red thing in her empty hand. ] Are you making much progress?

[thedetails]

[ Myka closes the book, having decided an hour ago that she'd had enough for the night and simply continuing on out of obligation. The truth is, she is exhausted, knows more now about Alexander Dumas and Musketeers than most literary experts, and still has no idea what artifact had brought Aramis to life. She is at a complete loss. ]

A little. [ A swift lie and she shuts the book, pushing it onto her nightstand and shoving the rest of her treat in her mouth. She picks up the bag and fiddles with it between the pads of her fingertips. Maybe she needs to start over, look at this from another angle. Start again at the Mongol Empire section and go from there.

Tomorrow, though. Tonight, she really needs a rest. ]

How are you settling it? [ She peels another twizzler from the package before extending her hand over the bed. ] You want one?

[needleworking]

Very good.

[ She gives him hope that perhaps he'll be able to return home. Not that he's overly anxious. As disorienting as this adventure has been there are parts of Aramis that need to experience what the future will bring. Especially if he won't be alive to see it. He truly believes if anyone will find a way to send him home it will be Myka. Her intelligence makes Aramis a little weak in the knees. ]

As well as can be expected I suppose.

[ He furrows his brows at the red thing being offered to him. ]

What exactly is it?

[thedetails]

[ If Myka knew the kind of faith he had in her, it would probably make her nervous. It was easier for her to just concentrate on the issues at hand, keep her goal in mind and try to not get distracted by anything else. That also included Aramis, which was something she remembered when she looked up at him and smiled nervously. ]

It's candy. Soft, kind of like licorice but it tastes like cherry.

[ She moved it closer to him, waving the red candy in his face. ] Try it.