Victor had entirely forgotten what time it was, by the time he comes up behind her, and kisses her left shoulder. She tenses a moment, until he kisses her right shoulder and makes things even again. "Even," he says. "Even," she echoes, "that's so much better." She is suddenly aware that she's a little hungry, and her stomach rumbles under his arm. She's also quite aware that she's barefoot, and sleeveless, and it would be a travesty if he wasn't him, if she wasn't in her own studio.
One side of her neck, and then the other. "Even," she says. "Even," he says. "I'm covered in dried paint," she says. She is covered in dried paint, sky blue smears up her arms, turquoise between her fingers. Navy blue elbows. She swivels to brush her hand through his hair.
He rests his chin on the top of her head. "We could shower and fix that." A flush spreads across her face, like a drop of watercolor red on a soaked canvas. "I've got to keep my clothes on." He chuckles. "I didn't expect anything else."
Monty the lizard boy comes out from under the bed when Doc slides him a copy of the complete Sherlock Holmes anthology. "Told you I'd get you books."
Monty slides his hand across his arm, causing his scales to rustle. Ducks his head. His usual go-between is at the dentist's, so he can't say thank you. Too shy to say thank you.
"Anytime, kiddo," Doc says anyway.
The lady who runs the shelter comes up to her with her hands on her hips, and this great colorful dress on that looks like it had another life as a giant's bedskirt. A big lady, a no nonsense kind of lady, with hair in little brown ringlets. "What's that I hear about you saying on your interviews that you eat ice cream for breakfast? That's all these kids've been saying, 'Doc gets to, and she's just fine!'"
Doc holds out her hands. "Hey, hey, I said right after that that the kids should always eat their vegetables anyway, and that I eat brussels sprout sundaes."
"Brussels sprouts are gross," says a little girl, playing with a one-armed Superman action figure on
( ... )
Awww, how sweet! I like the description of the lady who runs the shelter. And her dress. I'm not sure I'd care for brussels sprouts on ice cream, though.
They didn't have any business being there, the wretches, crawling around the way they did. They didn't have any business there, and it's not as if they were innocent. They're not. They'd kill her if they had the chance, and she wasn't going to feel bad about this, alright? There's not anything to feel bad about.
It's self-defense.
She does leave a few survivors, but not because she's merciful. Antibacterial soap only kills ninety-nine percent of germs.
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"Even," he says.
"Even," she echoes, "that's so much better." She is suddenly aware that she's a little hungry, and her stomach rumbles under his arm. She's also quite aware that she's barefoot, and sleeveless, and it would be a travesty if he wasn't him, if she wasn't in her own studio.
One side of her neck, and then the other.
"Even," she says.
"Even," he says.
"I'm covered in dried paint," she says. She is covered in dried paint, sky blue smears up her arms, turquoise between her fingers. Navy blue elbows. She swivels to brush her hand through his hair.
He rests his chin on the top of her head. "We could shower and fix that."
A flush spreads across her face, like a drop of watercolor red on a soaked canvas. "I've got to keep my clothes on."
He chuckles. "I didn't expect anything else."
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Monty slides his hand across his arm, causing his scales to rustle. Ducks his head. His usual go-between is at the dentist's, so he can't say thank you. Too shy to say thank you.
"Anytime, kiddo," Doc says anyway.
The lady who runs the shelter comes up to her with her hands on her hips, and this great colorful dress on that looks like it had another life as a giant's bedskirt. A big lady, a no nonsense kind of lady, with hair in little brown ringlets. "What's that I hear about you saying on your interviews that you eat ice cream for breakfast? That's all these kids've been saying, 'Doc gets to, and she's just fine!'"
Doc holds out her hands. "Hey, hey, I said right after that that the kids should always eat their vegetables anyway, and that I eat brussels sprout sundaes."
"Brussels sprouts are gross," says a little girl, playing with a one-armed Superman action figure on ( ... )
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Optional: And since choose-your-own! is listed... Bitchy!Vic and/or Nostalgic!Vic
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They didn't have any business being there, the wretches, crawling around the way they did. They didn't have any business there, and it's not as if they were innocent. They're not. They'd kill her if they had the chance, and she wasn't going to feel bad about this, alright? There's not anything to feel bad about.
It's self-defense.
She does leave a few survivors, but not because she's merciful. Antibacterial soap only kills ninety-nine percent of germs.
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