Kurayami frowned at her journal, but the expression was mostly meant for herself. Just because she'd never visited the dojo...well, her mind wasn't much on cartography at the moment.
Glancing at the canvas in front of her, she sighed. She'd finished the main pencilwork for her portrait of the woman from the memory crystal, and contrary to her fears, she'd managed to remember that kindly face well enough to create a likeness that didn't jar her to look at it.
Still. Next would be the hard part.
Standing, she dusted off her skirt and lifted the canvas off the easel, standing it in a corner of the workshop to free up the easel. On second thought, she fetched a spare cloth and draped it over the canvas. She didn't feel like answering awkward questions tonight.
"All right, mouth and chin time," Kurayami interrupted, in a tone that would have been mild as milk if it weren't for the slightly wicked arch of her eyebrow. She glanced at her sketch, then back up at him, and smiled.
Smoke was part-way through another comment when she interrupted. He clapped his mouth shut audibly, then gave a cheesy, toothy grin before going back to the easy, relaxed smile he'd begun with.
"Very good," Kurayami commended him, and realized belatedly that she'd used a voice more appropriate for talking to Apple.
...oh, well.
With an internal chuckle, she began carefully sketching the line of Smoke's mouth. For all the banter, they were making good progress. Satisfying, to say the least. It beat insomnia hollow, and honestly, it looked like becoming a very productive night.
He waited a long time - but eventually she started to look between him and her paper more frequently, not actually adding anything new for a good two to three minutes.
"Ah!" Smoke's eyes bugged a little. "Done already? Bummer, I thought for sure it'd take longer than that."
He reclined a little, relaxing his back without actually getting up until she gave him the word. "But there's always next time - still need to finish up with better light, right?"
A little light bulb may as well have appeared over his head. "Oh hey - I should treat you to dinner in or something next time, for making such an effort on Kagerou's behalf." Well, it worked as well any other reason. "That way we have something good to nibble on while you finish up. Like an indoor picnic."
...admittedly, he had a point. She hadn't done more than add details for a while now. Kurayami set aside the notebook, closing the cover, and gave him a pensive look.
"Well," she said, "if you bring something, I'll eat it. No carrots, though," she added hastily.
She'd just treat him to donuts at some point. That would make it even, right? And she liked donuts, so everybody won.
She hadn't said anything, but she closed her sketchpad, so clearly they were done.
He let his weapon disappear from his hand like threads slipping through his fingers. Then he stood up and stretched his hands into the air. "Got it," it came out a little grunt-y from the stretching. "No carrots."
Then Smoke twisted his midsection left and right before finally getting most of the kinks out. The rest could be sorted out on his way home. He pulled out his lighter then and lit up the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips for so long at that point.
"Any other special requests? You drink beer, wine?" He certainly would be, even if she wouldn't. He held onto the cig with his left hand and shoved his right hand into his pocket, leaning on that hip.
"I think I'll stick with tea," Kurayami said, though not without a smile. "I doubt beer would do much for keeping my hands steady."
Speaking of which, she rummaged in her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette of her own. Sleep beckoned after that concentration, finally, which was a nice luxury, but a smoke was a nice companion on a long, dark walk home, and it'd settle her nerves to face the elevator.
Smoke's first mental image was of using his own cigarette to light hers. But a split-second after that had him realizing that was a ridiculous idea and probably wouldn't even work, let alone leave his face unbruised.
"Sure thing."
He crossed the space between them, but still gave her an ample personal bubble. He pulled his lighter out, flicked it again, and used the tiny flame to light her stick. It was a simple gesture, but one he felt he must've done a hundred times. Maybe where he came from a lot of people's lighters ran out all the time?
( ... )
Nodding her thanks, Kurayami took a drag, watching the flare of embers with comfortable satisfaction. This was all the so-called poison she needed to pick.
She blew out a little stream of smoke and propped one hand on her hip. "Make it wine and I'll think about it," she said. She couldn't remember what she had or hadn't drunk before...coming here, but beer didn't have any particularly pleasant associations in her head. In any case, she could always change her mind.
She shrugged. "Evenings are good," she said, not feeling like outright explaining her trouble sleeping. "I'm usually not busy after dinner. Just...write something to me so I'll know you're coming."
The last thing she needed was to be barged in on, after all. She deliberately didn't look at the covered canvas, or the spare dropcloth pinned over the wall where she'd thrown that paint pot. Some of her thoughts on what to do about that wall...well. She'd rather keep both projects private for now.
Smoke was pleased with the results of that evening. He gave her a bright smile and a thumbs-up. "Will do, gashu-san!" Then he gave a small wave as he bent over to push the chair back where it belonged.
"See you in a few days, probably! Wine and no carrots!" He winked. "Bye!"
With that he left her workspace, in no hurry to get back to his place any time soon. Between all the sparring and all the sitting, he was content to just walk and smoke for awhile.
Glancing at the canvas in front of her, she sighed. She'd finished the main pencilwork for her portrait of the woman from the memory crystal, and contrary to her fears, she'd managed to remember that kindly face well enough to create a likeness that didn't jar her to look at it.
Still. Next would be the hard part.
Standing, she dusted off her skirt and lifted the canvas off the easel, standing it in a corner of the workshop to free up the easel. On second thought, she fetched a spare cloth and draped it over the canvas. She didn't feel like answering awkward questions tonight.
Now, where had she put that spare canvas?
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"If you don't mind, of course."
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...oh, well.
With an internal chuckle, she began carefully sketching the line of Smoke's mouth. For all the banter, they were making good progress. Satisfying, to say the least. It beat insomnia hollow, and honestly, it looked like becoming a very productive night.
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"Ah!" Smoke's eyes bugged a little. "Done already? Bummer, I thought for sure it'd take longer than that."
He reclined a little, relaxing his back without actually getting up until she gave him the word. "But there's always next time - still need to finish up with better light, right?"
A little light bulb may as well have appeared over his head. "Oh hey - I should treat you to dinner in or something next time, for making such an effort on Kagerou's behalf." Well, it worked as well any other reason. "That way we have something good to nibble on while you finish up. Like an indoor picnic."
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"Well," she said, "if you bring something, I'll eat it. No carrots, though," she added hastily.
She'd just treat him to donuts at some point. That would make it even, right? And she liked donuts, so everybody won.
Reply
He let his weapon disappear from his hand like threads slipping through his fingers. Then he stood up and stretched his hands into the air. "Got it," it came out a little grunt-y from the stretching. "No carrots."
Then Smoke twisted his midsection left and right before finally getting most of the kinks out. The rest could be sorted out on his way home. He pulled out his lighter then and lit up the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips for so long at that point.
"Any other special requests? You drink beer, wine?" He certainly would be, even if she wouldn't. He held onto the cig with his left hand and shoved his right hand into his pocket, leaning on that hip.
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Speaking of which, she rummaged in her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette of her own. Sleep beckoned after that concentration, finally, which was a nice luxury, but a smoke was a nice companion on a long, dark walk home, and it'd settle her nerves to face the elevator.
"Got a light?" she asked, on a whim.
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"Sure thing."
He crossed the space between them, but still gave her an ample personal bubble. He pulled his lighter out, flicked it again, and used the tiny flame to light her stick. It was a simple gesture, but one he felt he must've done a hundred times. Maybe where he came from a lot of people's lighters ran out all the time?
( ... )
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She blew out a little stream of smoke and propped one hand on her hip. "Make it wine and I'll think about it," she said. She couldn't remember what she had or hadn't drunk before...coming here, but beer didn't have any particularly pleasant associations in her head. In any case, she could always change her mind.
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He crossed his arms over his chest, still smiling. "So, when's good? To have me sit for you again. That way I'll know when not to be working."
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The last thing she needed was to be barged in on, after all. She deliberately didn't look at the covered canvas, or the spare dropcloth pinned over the wall where she'd thrown that paint pot. Some of her thoughts on what to do about that wall...well. She'd rather keep both projects private for now.
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"See you in a few days, probably! Wine and no carrots!" He winked. "Bye!"
With that he left her workspace, in no hurry to get back to his place any time soon. Between all the sparring and all the sitting, he was content to just walk and smoke for awhile.
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