Hey, hey. 🧚♀️ Random question. Human liquor. Yay or nay on the possibility of it doing something horrendous to my body? I can't see a list of ingredients on here, but if ash wood is regularly involved in the distilling process, I would like for you to remember me fondly. And as a great good time.
Well, there's a nickname I can get used to. I've been alright, considering the state of all the other depressing people on deck. Do you find yourself among them?
Eye for an eye, darling Dean. I'll drink your potatoes if you drink my fairy wine. I suppose I could manage a morose evening if you're feeling moody. There's a deep well to dive into, I'm sure.
( it takes rhys little time to shimmy his way to dean's door — close proximity and an instinctively antsy nature means he wastes no time in being coy about wanting to see him. he manages to stop himself from teleporting immediately to his door, to at least keep a little shame tucked into his back pocket.
anyway he knocks, a bottle of peach, sparkly wine dangling loosely in his fingertips. when dean answers rhys grins and lifts it up, waggling it suggestively. )
I left the one that will take your inhibitions away back at my room — but I should warn you. Dancing is simply not up for debate after you try this. You won't be able to stop yourself.
[ shame? what is that. Dean is rebounding from Yvonne and he is...Doing well. Obviously. Room littered with multiple bottles of potato (and rye) liquid and Zeppelin records and posters, call him well rounded and healthy.
And when Dean opens the door and is confronted with the ethereal beauty of a smarmy, sexy fairy, he can't help but smirk, lean on the doorframe, head cocked. ]
You think these bow legs can dance?
[ He's more apt to fall, honestly. And that wine looks...Well. Girly, but Rhys is a pretty fairy boy and Dean is a depressed horn dog, so here they are.
He holds up his bottle of shitty liquor, kicking his door open a little more. ]
This will make you question all of your life choices and regret every moment of your life. Tradesies?
( he teases, eyebrows lifting up his forehead in amusement. he goes through the graceful motions of trading one bottle for the other, and while their hands are each occupied by both, he leans forward to quickly dot a kiss on the corner of dean's mouth. it's as fleeting as rhys is, quickly skirting aside him with vodka now in tow, letting himself in to dean's room.
of course, rhys' own quarters look a little more like wandering curiosities shop, so he takes immediate interest in dean's. like a magnet, he moves to the led zeppelin shrine, nodding appreciatively. whilst understanding absolutely nothing. )
The man of the hour. ( like, really nothing. ) He's a Seraphim?
[ sjdhfas the kiss make shim blush furiously, color rising to his cheeks and neck, freckles standing out like constellations. It's so quick, and Rhys is flitting right around him maybe he doesn't see it.
Then again, Dean doesn't have the best luck.
His little shrine is his favorite thing about his room, the record player turned way down low, though no quarter spins gently, Jimmy Page's guitar riffs something for the ages, Robert Plant's vocal range drifting softly in the air.
It's one of Dean's favorites, though Ramble On takes that top spot, juuuust over Travelin' Riverside Blues. ]
You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he was. They totally redefined rock 'n roll. Total sex symbol.
( he hums, turning to dean while sucking his upper lip, nodding his head dramatically as if to say yes, of course, i do know exactly what we are talking about. )
Rock and roll, yes. ( swirling his free hand in the air, rhysand grabs two iridescent glasses from presumably absolutely nowhere, pinched between his fingers. rather expertly, he manages to undo the stopper in his vodka bottle and pours a splash into one of them, holding out the empty for dean's usage. ) Am I getting a very thorough education of music from your world?
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text. » un: rhysand
Random question.
Human liquor. Yay or nay on the possibility of it doing something horrendous to my body? I can't see a list of ingredients on here, but if ash wood is regularly involved in the distilling process, I would like for you to remember me fondly. And as a great good time.
lmfao RHYS
it's mostly grains. sometimes potatoes. sugar.
how you been, mr. good time?
😇
Well, there's a nickname I can get used to.
I've been alright, considering the state of all the other depressing people on deck. Do you find yourself among them?
no subject
do you want to partake in some potato liquid and depression? i have plenty of both.
no subject
I suppose I could manage a morose evening if you're feeling moody. There's a deep well to dive into, I'm sure.
no subject
i'll try your fairy wine 😉 will i be able to escape your spell?
i got every led zeppelin record there is if that helps make your choice.
no subject
Naturally I'd never let anything bad happen to you. But I don't think you especially want to escape my spell.
I have absolutely no idea who that is. I'm on my way!
no subject
Breakin' my heart, fairy boy. See you shortly.
[ do you like 70s rock, rhys, cause that's what this is baby ]
» action.
anyway he knocks, a bottle of peach, sparkly wine dangling loosely in his fingertips. when dean answers rhys grins and lifts it up, waggling it suggestively. )
I left the one that will take your inhibitions away back at my room — but I should warn you. Dancing is simply not up for debate after you try this. You won't be able to stop yourself.
no subject
And when Dean opens the door and is confronted with the ethereal beauty of a smarmy, sexy fairy, he can't help but smirk, lean on the doorframe, head cocked. ]
You think these bow legs can dance?
[ He's more apt to fall, honestly. And that wine looks...Well. Girly, but Rhys is a pretty fairy boy and Dean is a depressed horn dog, so here they are.
He holds up his bottle of shitty liquor, kicking his door open a little more. ]
This will make you question all of your life choices and regret every moment of your life. Tradesies?
no subject
( he teases, eyebrows lifting up his forehead in amusement. he goes through the graceful motions of trading one bottle for the other, and while their hands are each occupied by both, he leans forward to quickly dot a kiss on the corner of dean's mouth. it's as fleeting as rhys is, quickly skirting aside him with vodka now in tow, letting himself in to dean's room.
of course, rhys' own quarters look a little more like wandering curiosities shop, so he takes immediate interest in dean's. like a magnet, he moves to the led zeppelin shrine, nodding appreciatively. whilst understanding absolutely nothing. )
The man of the hour. ( like, really nothing. ) He's a Seraphim?
u saw nothing
Then again, Dean doesn't have the best luck.
His little shrine is his favorite thing about his room, the record player turned way down low, though no quarter spins gently, Jimmy Page's guitar riffs something for the ages, Robert Plant's vocal range drifting softly in the air.
It's one of Dean's favorites, though Ramble On takes that top spot, juuuust over Travelin' Riverside Blues. ]
You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he was. They totally redefined rock 'n roll. Total sex symbol.
i pretend i do not see
( he hums, turning to dean while sucking his upper lip, nodding his head dramatically as if to say yes, of course, i do know exactly what we are talking about. )
Rock and roll, yes. ( swirling his free hand in the air, rhysand grabs two iridescent glasses from presumably absolutely nowhere, pinched between his fingers. rather expertly, he manages to undo the stopper in his vodka bottle and pours a splash into one of them, holding out the empty for dean's usage. ) Am I getting a very thorough education of music from your world?
no subject
He pulls in a breath, and takes the offered glass. Huh. Magical. ]
Um, yes. Sorry. It's my favorite, I tend to ramble on.
[ heh. hehehe. punny ]