IC Speed Dating Meme

[fairbrook]

IC Speed Dating Meme

Rules:
1. Post with your character by creating a "card" with your name, sex, and preferences.
2. Tag to others.
3. You supposedly only have seven minutes, but that's up to the muns how many comments. [To hell with that, let's not put a limit on how many comments]
4. Have fun.

Comments

[noirant]

Length hardly seems the most important consideration,

[ ba dum TSHHHH ]

But I find the scenery far more pleasurable with company, Messire -- ?

[ whats ur name bro ]

[avisionofwar]

Ohhh, I can imagine some might argue the point.

[ Yes sir, he saw that sex joke, and makes no effort to cover his smirk. He offers his hand. ]

Celegorm. Once one of the Necroveils of the King, these days I've been trying to... do just that. Enjoy the scenery. Study the local wildlife. But...

[ He's glimpsed the tattoos. Lifts his hands and unfurls his fingers gracefully, palms up, inviting. ]

May I see your hands? I've never seen... markings like this.

[noirant]

[ he hates a stranger's touch, hates even worse the feeling of fingers wrapped about his own. it’s all too easy to remember the old snap that left them so crooked.

but felix loathes as he lives and breathes, swallowing emotion like so much air, and he’s well-versed in hiding distaste. he smiles, as though celegorm’s the only one in the room, and places his own palms into the elf’s. ]

Of course.

[ the skin on his soothes. warm. elegant. yeah he can deal with this. yeah he can deal with a pretty blonde elf with power holding his hand. this is Alright. life’s Good. ]

I suppose I’ve grown used to them — a man of the sword? [ he lifts an eyebrow at that, leaning in and tracing a finger over the pads of celegorm’s palm where callous should grow ] It takes no small measure of courage to alter one’s path.

[ it's not a question but he lifts the end, encouraging. go on dude. ]

[avisionofwar]

[ The interest hadn't been feigned for a schtick; Celegorm's touch is very light, as if he is accustomed to great delicacy, and his eyes follow the lines of the tattoos with an interest that's almost academic. He turns Felix's hands in his, seeing the eyes on the palms. Stops there, letting the pad of a calloused thumb glide along the symbol.

Tattooing isn't a big cultural thing with the Eldar: your body is a temple, and all that. But it was common enough with some members of the Edain, the Haradrim... People he'd mostly only glimpsed from a sanitary distance.

But likewise he allows his own hands to be turned, inspected: all the callouses of archery and long swordplay, but also the evidence of great personal fastidiousness. No dirt, nails kept short and clean.]

Ah... A hunter by my heart's desire; a soldier only by... grim need, and circumstance.

[ A rueful twist of his mouth, and he let his hands slide away, folding on the tabletop instead. ]

Grown used to them. You talk about them as if they're scars.

[ He searches Felix's face, trying to gauge what is acceptable to ask. He'd felt all the old breaks. ]