Conversation Space IV.

[powersthatbe]

The small room is painted a dark beige, with stained wood paneling on the lower half, and lush burgundy carpeting. The ceiling, however, is cracked and bowed, sagging alarmingly, occasionally shedding chips of plaster. Wrought-iron lamp-posts in the corners suspend pale, wan globes of light, and between them along the walls run rows of painted sunflowers, all turned towards the center of the room as if listening attentively. A jutting spire of granite rises from the floor on a diagonal, its flattened top sporting a cracked wineglass from which the wine (a white) slowly spatters teardrops across the plinth. And there is no chair, but a therapist’s couch, blue with gold trim, and ornate scrollwork on the legs, beside which the fluted horn of a phonograph player pipes music into the room, quiet enough to just be background ambience.

Comments

[iseethe]

"Yes," she says.

[itsananimalthing]

"Not a helpful answer," Riddick comments. "But guess I asked for it not bein' specific enough." And he doesn't ask again. Given what she's said so far, he can guess, unless her implications are outright lies-- also possible. She'd want to tell him what she thinks he'd want to hear, to get him on her side. Everything she says he has to take knowing that.

Instead, he asks, "One more question. Did you really take my name?"

[iseethe]

"Do you still want your kiss?" she asks in return. "Or are you only interested in kissing Penuel's girl these days?"

[itsananimalthing]

There's a pause while Riddick weighs his options. He's moderately sure that this whole name thing doesn't actually bind him to her any more than they already are-- and he's actually okay with breaking any implied promises to somebody like her. And while it could be seen as an implied promise, he's not actually sure how she'd take it.

Hmm.

So after that pause, he answers, "Well, she ain't here, is she?"

1/2

[iseethe]

"No," Lune all but purrs, "she isn't. Allow me to slip into something a bit more mortal for you--"

[iseethe]

--and she makes a gesture in front of her face, almost as if she's pulling another mask on top of the one that's already her face and suddenly there's a lovely human-looking woman with a silent filmstar's glamor, with black curls framing her face. Her skin is flesh now, not silk, and it's the same pale grey as before. Kohl lines her her eyes and the bow of her mouth is painted black.

"Much better for kissing," she says, in smug satisfaction, and she wraps her arms around Riddick's neck.

[itsananimalthing]

"Well, ain't that pretty." Not his type, really. His type are tough blondes. But still pretty, he can admit that much. "Guess you were more interested in that kiss than you let on before, huh?" Or his name, but he's good to misdirect a bit, too. He tucks his arms around her waist in return-- feels all wrong, now, she's the wrong size and wrong build, but he does it anyway-- and lets her decide when and how she's going to kiss him.

[iseethe]

She leans up and in, starting relatively chaste and gradually deepening the kiss, opening his mouth with her own, pressing herself snug against him.