Log:Any Moment

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Any Moment
Characters  •   The Bon-Vivant  •  The Lover  •
Location  •  Lover's Room
Date  •  2019-03-14
Summary  •  The Bon-Vivant drops in on the Lover with breakfast to see how she's coping, and plans are made.

It's not too terribly long after everyone's awoken this 'morning' -- maybe a couple hours -- when there's a firm knocking on the door, one followed by a beat and then two quicker ones, rhythmic. Outside, the culprit is clad in black leather trousers and a crisp white button shirt, the top couple buttons open and a blackwatch plaid silk tie worn decidedly loosely, and boots much like Scott used to wear during the Ghost Troubles. He's shaved, and his hair's cut a little shorter than those who met him in '89 are used to, plus he's carrying a plate with a cover on it.


Sitting on the bed hugging a pillow and reading a book, Lulu is dressed in pajamas. It's not how she wakes, so she 'got dressed' in them, but has not yet left her room. Blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun, her sunkissed arms showing as she sports a pale pink tank camisole top. She seems to like the baggy look on her lean body, as her pajama bottoms are wide-legged in the same pale pink jersey material of the camisole, but with the addition of light grey pinstripes.

The knock at the door startles her and she takes a small breath, her eyes flashing up from the book to stare at it a moment. She isn't quite over 'All The Things' yet, memories of the Lodge still bearing on her psyche and the shock of being here and not knowing where here truly was. Biting her lip she turns down the corner of the page she is on, setting the book and pillow aside as she pads to the door, cautiously opening it a crack to peek out. When she sees 'Scott'/Fizz there, she beams a smile and opens the door wider, almost attacking him with a hug before she sees that he is carrying something. Instead, she leans her cheek to his shoulder in greeting and says, "Fizz! Right.. still Fizz? Come in!" She steps back inside herself and takes in his appearance in more detail. "You are looking good today. Nice pants."


The Bon-Vivant breaks into a grin in return, and wraps his free arm around her for a squeeze when she leans in with that greeting. "Still Fizz," he confirms as he accepts the invitation and follows her inside, "and thanks! Lookin' pretty cute yourself. Still Lulu?" These things can't be taken for granted, particularly when someone's getting used to the place.

"Brought you some breakfast, thought I'd see how you're holding up." A beat. "How're you holding up?" The plate's offered toward her, cover and all; if she removes it, she'll find a small selection of varied donuts, and a couple of those little cartons of milk her older, flatter pre-Lodge 'Lulu' memories probably place as having been constants in her school cafeteria.


The Lover smiles at the compliment and reaches up to let a couple of fingers shift a stray whisp of hair behind her ear. "Thank you." Taking the plate in her hand she saysm :and thank you for this too," as she sets it on the bed in order to give him a proper hug. Lulu thrives on hugs. "Yes, still Lulu. I am not sure that will ever change." Oh, but it might! She just doesn't know yet. After enjoying the warmth of the hug, her hand slides down his arm to lightly take hold of his hand, leading him to her rather gigantic bed. She crawls onto it herself, sitting near the middle as she reaches for that plate of food and milk, patting the mattress with one hand to invite him to sit. "I am okay..." She doesn't sound wholly convinced about her own status. "Just trying to not freak out on a daily basis." Lifting her head as she lifts the cover from the plate, she smiles at him in her charming way then exclaims, "ooh! Donuts!" She lifts a chocolate cake one with pink sprinkles from the plate, because, pink sprinkles(!), and takes a bite, her hazel eyes set upon Fizz.


Whether Fizz or Scott, the Bon-Vivant is also a fan, and returns that hug fiercely, scooping her all the way up off the ground for a few seconds before setting her back down for the rest of it. Surely some version of him won't be on board at some point, but this one isn't it. He's easily led to join her on the bed as well, crawling on after her and sitting in the indicated spot. There's a light sideways lean to bump his arm against hers, a gesture he might have absorbed from Scott -- or maybe it went the other way -- and he reaches over to steal one of the donuts himself, a raspberry-filled glazed.

"Okay's pretty good, considering," he says, and studies her for a moment or two as she eats. "If you've got more questions, I'll try to answer them," he says, "though, no promises it's gonna make a whole lot of sense. If you want advice, I can give that a go too, though it might be kinda different for me. ...and if you wanna not think about it, you can tell me about what you're reading or something." He indicates the book with a little tilt of his head, and gives her another grin, if a slightly gentler one, before he takes a bite of the donut.


"You give the best hugs," Lulu had murmured when he had set her down and released her, before she crawled onto the bed. Once there and settled and all, she leans towards him to return the shoulder nudge as well, smiling. No matter when it started for him, it was something she remembered; a piece of familiarity in an unfamiliar world.

He takes a bite of that raspberry glaze and as donuts often do, it leaves behind a small flake of sugar on his upper lip. She reaches over to brush it away with a fingertip, smiling as she answers him. "I am afraid if I start in on questions, I will never stop, and yeah, likely... they won't make a lot of sense anyway or might just make me more confused. Advice though... advice I will take." Reaching for one of the cartons of milk she moves to open it with a practiced hand. Somewhere in her mind, she does remember these, and how you pinch and pull to open them. Glancing at the book she says, "It's one I wanted to read a long time ago, but never did. Kind of an odd little book... " The cover reads "Anne Rice writing as A. N. Roquelaure 'The Sleeping Beuty Trilogy'" But, I am enjoying it.


The Bon-Vivant makes a noncommittal sort of noise, tilting his head slightly, and replies with a half-smile, "I've got competition." The brushing away of the sugar makes him smile also, mouth closed as he's chewing, and once he's swallowed he gives his lip a quick lick in case she might have missed any. Another bite, as she goes on, and when she does talk about the book, he leans a little farther to better read the cover. "...is it a vampire fairy tale?" He knows Sleeping Beauty, who doesn't? And apparently the author rings a bell, though he sounds kind of dubious all in all.

He looks thoughtful, though, before going on, "Far as advice... this is the first time I've been back, but I started here, and I've watched people. Seems to me, if you can accept who you are here as who you /are/, sorta separate from who else you've been, those being more like parts of you, you kinda do better. I don't mean rejecting them, but..." He trails off, and sighs. "It's kinda hard to put in words, I guess. But it's a thing I see." He might, granted, have a bias. But even if so he might be right. "The other things are to try not to hold shit against people that happened in an encounter, 'cause they can't help some of it, or to expect things to be the same here... but also don't assume they can't be. Most of us carry a bunch of feelings back. And try to have fun while you're here. Which, okay, I'm pretty sure that's kinda my advice period, whatever 'here', but people spend a shitload of time time worrying about shit we can't do anything about, like, past when they stop enjoying thinking about it, so... don't. Read something good or hang out with folks or get hugs or go do shit in the Anywhere Rooms. Or eat donuts." A quick grin, and he has another bite of his.


Blushing a bit, Lulu bites the corner of her lip and pushes the book further away a bit. "No... it's um, a retelling of the fairy tale. Sort of. Um." Lulu's voice goes quiet as she admits, "it's um, a lot um, dirtier than I thought it would be." Clearing her throat, she pushes the book away further, harder, until it falls to the floor on the opposite side of the bed. "I haven't gotten far... I should probably read something else. Something more intellectual, Shakespeare or something... Um." Moving on!

Squinting in thought, she asks, "but, I feel the same. Like, I dunno. Maybe that helps when you experienced more things, like Emily... I forget what she likes to be called... And even you. Maybe I will feel that the next time. If there is a next time. Some don't come back again, right? What happens to them?" She listens, eating her donut slowly, eyes staying on his. She can't help but smile as he continues to give his advice. "It's odd, not knowing how people think of me anymore. You know? Like, my friends from then, are so different now, some of them. Some aren't as much. You aren't too different. But, even at the lodge, I tried to like, enjoy myself in between. Too much stress is not good for the heart. So, it's not good to stress too much about things we cannot help. Like sure, think about how to improve things, but not all the time. And.. at least from what I can tell, there are no ghosts here. But, I still can't shake that feeling, you know? That's why I stay in here so much. I can't shake that feeling of being afraid of what I can't see." She takes a sip of milk then, licking the milstache from her upper lip after.


The Bon-Vivant looks amused by the blush, and just more so as she explains, and as she keeps pushing the book farther away. "Well, now /I'm/ thinkin' about reading it," he teases, glancing after it, "...you know Shakespeare's full of sex jokes, right? Like, aaaall the damn time."

He reaches over to return her earlier favour, brushing away a touch of milk she missed with his finger -- at least, presumably she did -- and makes a small shrug. "I'm not that different," he agrees, "I've only been Scott and who I was here before him, and," a flicker of consideration, "the differences aren't that huge, I think. There was a lot I didn't know, before, and even more stuff I only kinda had a vague idea about, that I get now." A sudden grin and sidelong look, "Sex jokes in Shakespeare, for example. Scott had some decent English teachers. I might seem more different next time, I dunno -- either different than I am now, or different from whoever I am next. I think if I hadn't been me beforehand, I probably would just feel like Scott. But, like, Dare's new here entirely, and he can feel how he's different from Finn, even if they're mostly the same too. If my theory's right, prolly that's gonna make it easier next time he's back."

He pauses, looking at what remains of his donut, and nods, confirming, "But yeah. Sometimes people don't come back. No one really has any idea where they go. Theories kinda depend on what a person thinks this place is, and what they think /we/ are." He's not going to go too deeply into that with her, not when she's still dealing with the basics. "Some people think they died, or were freed, or maybe just got moved to another place like this. That's a theory for where the people we don't recognize in encounters are, too, 'cause apparently sometimes they show up later as other people too..." He gives her a smile, even so. "Counts as things we can't help, though." He pops the last bite of the donut into his mouth, and reaches over for the other box of milk.


"Yes, I know..." Lulu nods. "But this is like, non stop. I thought there would be more, you know, story, but. Um. So, anyway." She looks to the man she remembers cuddling a couple nights and only blushes more before giggling when he reaches to wipe the milk from her lip. Smiling, she looks into his eyes still, nodding. She laughs as he returns to mentioning sex jokes. "If I am honest," she says with a small shrug of her own, "I hope you never change too much. I you know, kind of like who I know you as. Scott, and Fizz seem pretty um, remarkable in my book." She looks down then at the plate of donuts as if studying them closely. One must be careful in choosing a donut, right?

Looking up again eventually, her teeth worry at her lip. "I didn't think of that possibility. Other places like this?" Her gaze flick to the curtains across from the bed where a window might usually be, alas, they only hide wall. "What if I was in one before? Like, what if I was a bunch of people and just don't remember?" She goes cross-eyed, amusingly, for a moment then laughs. "These what if thoughts could drive a person insane if they let them. I promise not to go insane. Amend that. I promise to try not to go insane." She smiles brightly at him then, folding her hands in her lap with a lift of her shoulders in that way that one does when trying to pose cutely innocent.


The Bon-Vivant cracks open the carton and takes a few sips as she speaks, with a low laugh at the complaint of nonstopness. The compliment gets another smile, and he slides his arm around her to give her a squeeze again, then just leaves it there for the time being. He remembers cuddling, too! "We kinda like you too," he says, some teasing in the tone again, though it returns to more thoughtful as he continues, "I kind of like who you know me as, too. I mean, overall, I think I'm probably pretty okay. It's weird to think about getting changed a lot. But I figure maybe if I'm pretty sure who I am here, I'll stay mostly this me." Worth a try, right? "Wouldn't mind if I came back from one better at explaining things, though."

Another grin, one that turns into a laugh at her amended promise, the cute pose only adding to the amusement. "Good promise," he says, "I promise to try not to go insane too. It is weird to think about, that maybe I could've been other people in another place before I woke up here, and it just got taken out of my head. But yeah, you're right, all that kinda could be but there's no way to know could drive you nuts if let it." He eyes the donuts himself as he takes another drink, before asking, "Have you tried out the Anywhere Rooms yet?"


The Lover leans into Fizz's side when his arm goes around her and stays, letting out a relaxed sigh of contentment. These moments are when she feels most at peace here in this place, when the feel of the familiar is awarm against her. "We." Grinning as that term tumbles around in her brain. "We. Like um, what was that movie I watched when I was little. Tallulah. Watched. I was fascinated by it. This girl with mutiple personalities. Sally field was in it. Do you remember Sally Field? It was a great movie. But um, I think it was. I suddenly wonder if anything I remember is real." She laughs but doesn't seem ill at ease about that thought, for whatever reason. But um, I feel like, in a way, we are all kind of like that, or, are, at different degrees. Like, Someone who just woke here and remembers nothing maybe not, but like, Emily... But it's like, multiuple personalities sort of? Only, they start blending together... Maybe." Her brow furrows a little and she shakes her head. "I'm not sure if that makes sense. Clearly I need to be better at explaining things too!" She laughs and tilts her head to rest it against his shoulder, reaching to pick a small piece from one of the uneaten donuts between her fingers and popping it in her mouth.

I haven't been, yet. I heard about them, and I know you went somewhere that one day, and others were talking about like, revisiting their past lives in them. I just hung out in my room mostly, or listened to the creepy music in that old radio."


The Bon-Vivant tilts his head a little to rest it against hers in return, setting the milk down on the plate. Too much risk of spilling it on her if he drinks more right now! Plus, it means he can tear off bits of donut as well, and that strikes him as a stellar idea. "We," he confirms, grinning as well, and the amusement remains at the mention of the movie.

"I dunno," he says when she finishes, "that seemed like a good enough explanation to me. It's kind of right, too, I'd say. Who we are here is the kind of main one, and then for a while we're off being another one, but they're all inside us. Like different versions."

He eats a bit of chocolate donut before adding, "The older memories are weird. Like, at the Lodge, those memories are... vivid, right? But everything before we got there, I just kind of know. Like, I know Scott felt a certain way about something, but I don't remember it the same way I remember how he felt at the Lodge. I remember stuff from the year after he got away, but it feels like the stuff before, so it's not just a matter of it being longer ago. Anyway, you should try those rooms. I went to Monte Carlo with Bunny... we kinda played at spies and started talking about trying to rob the casino or something." It makes him grin again. "I've also gone to the beach and gone into freefall and been on a platform in space, among other shit. It's pretty good."


"But, when you, we, are not here, but in what do you call them? Encounters? Do you remember other things? Just the then you we... person. Version. Right?" Lulu snatches another small morsel of donut, slipping it into her mouth. She stops mid chew, eyes going wide before she lifts her head from Fizz's shoulder to look up at him. "I just realized a difference. Tallulah Lode Me never ate sweets really. The candy, that one time, but, she was sad... she avoided it otherwise. I. She?" She shakes her head. He knows what she means.

Getting comfortable against him again, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she does, she says, "Briar and I talked about going to a beach in one of the rooms, but, we haven't. I like beaches. I think." Pause. "Did you rob it? What if you failed and never came back! I would be so sad..." Her hand slips to rest on his knee a moment before she clears her throat and reaches for more donut. "If you and I were going to use one of those rooms, with or without anyone else, where would you want to go, or what would you want to do?"


"Yeah, when I got here, Chance -- he was Derek the film student -- he called them encounters, and I figure, it's easier to talk about shit when you got a word and that one'll do," Fizz replies, "I didn't remember being me when I was Scott. The others say you never remember who else you've been while you're in one. That's part of why I figure this us matters as something separate, 'cause it's the only one that can know about all the others." He'd lifted his head when hers moved, looking faintly concerned for the moment before she explains what's struck her; it melts into a smile, and he gives a small nod. "Yeah, that kind of thing," he says, "Probably most of us'd only find smallish differences the first time, though I'm just guessing that, but they're there. And-- pronouns do feel kinda weird sometimes." Probably clear enough how he's decided to handle them himself, but it's an acknowledgement it's not as strong a division as referents might be held to imply.

"I love beaches," he says, "and now they've got birds and fish and other people and all that shit. Unless you decide you want a deserted one, I guess. When I got here, there wasn't anything alive in there but us. So, that's new. And we didn't, but we're gonna later. I'm not too worried what'd happen. If you die in there, you wake up here in the morning like everyone else. And if you got arrested or something, you'd still wake up out here in the morning..." He hasn't quite realised how different the timescales are, yet -- that's new, too, so the potential for being in virtual jail for a week or something before it ended hasn't hit him. Of course, it's possible he'd still do it anyway.

She gets another squeeze as she snuggles in, and he considers. "I've got a whole big list Boet and I made before the Lodge happened." There's a hint of some more conflicted feeling that sneaks into the tone just briefly, gone as he goes on, "I'd want to figure out something /you/ wanted to do, though. Do you know how to surf? I kinda wanted to do that before, and now I know how. We could go surf somewhere with a boardwalk or pier kind of place for after, that'd be fun."


The Lover stays nestled against Fizz, picking tiny piece after tiny piece off of the donut to eat them as he talks. "This one matters," she says between bites. "Like, this one is the real us. Like you said, in the um, encounters, when you get back here, don't hold something someone did against them here... it's because here is like, real, and there is, probably, not, sort of." She unfolds her legs, stretching one out before her and wiggling her toes. "I dress differently here. But like, my clothes aren't here, or, the ones I had aren't. I miss my music a lot too. The radio plays old-timey stuff. Oh, and my toes used to always be painted. I haven't found any nail polish yet." She pauses then asks, "does that thing in the dining room give us things other than food? Can I ask for purple nail polish?"

When he speaks about loving beaches, she smiles. "Me too. But.. don't they always have..." He goes on to explain that when he was here before, the Anywhere rooms didn't have them. "That would feel so strange.... So isolating. Like the only heart beat you could feel in the world was your own. That would be so sad..." Her lush lips turn down into a bit of a pout. "I am glad there are animals and people in them now. Even if they aren't real..."

"Boet. That's what you called Lyle, right? Boet... what does that mean? I never heard it before. What's on your list?" The change of tone has her peeking up at him through her lashes, not lifting her head from his shoulder, merely turning it just enough to peek. "I tried surfing before, but only a couple times. Maybe you could teach me." Her round eyes go rounder and her lips part in an 'oh' shape. "Are the rooms, could you go to any time too? Not just anywhere? We could be like those old beach movies, like, from Elvis era and stuff? I always thought I would look cute in that time period." She laughs. "Or just, any old time... and play carnival games, or go on a ferris wheel... eat hot dogs and cotton candy after riding the waves. Let's do that. Can we do that? You'd look hot in board shorts on a surf board... " She lets out a soft whistle.


"It felt weird," Fizz confirms about the lack of living things before, "and I didn't even have any other experience to compare it with yet. I just kind of knew it wasn't... right." He says it while looking toward what seems most likely to be her closet, as though he might be able to see what's there and it might answer something, somehow, so it might not be that large a surprise that he circles back to that afterward: "I don't have Scott's clothes here, but I've got some like 'em. And some not. I have... a shitload of clothes." Now that he thinks about that, it seems slightly odd. But he's not going to complain. "Do you like the stuff here better, or less? I don't think the dispensers will give you anything you can't kinda reasonably eat, drink, or smoke... and it's picky about which shit it'll let you smoke, too," of /course/ ex-Scott knows this, "so nail polish might be a tough sell. But, bet you someone else here has it, if you don't. Try Briar. Maybe Bunny, she's got a lot of stuff in there too. And as far as music?" The grin this time is particularly pleased, "Come visit me. Scott's boombox turned up in my room when I got back, with some of the tapes. Some of 'em kind of hurt to think too hard about, but I hated that I couldn't bring the MTV back from the parlor to my room before, so I'm still fuckin' thrilled, frankly."

He breaks off another bit of donut, popping it into his mouth, and looks rather pleased with her suggestions of what they could do, as well. "Yeah, that's who I mean," he confirms, "It's just me that calls him that. It means brother, like... your people. One of those words he uses. I dunno what language it is, but." Tiny shrug. He could go into the list, but on the other hand, he could contemplate the images she's conjured up, and they've got a certain draw. "You'd look adorable, all like Beach Blanket Bingo," he says, lifting his head enough that he can look her over again, "...adorable /and/ hot. You got a bikini in there?" This is clearly an idea with his seal of approval, even before, "It can be when and wherever we want, so yeah. Let's go do that. Ferris wheels and cotton candy and surfing and, like, '60s surf music and everything."


"I like them well enoough," Lulu smiles and looks down at herself. "I mean, I guess these are just pajamas, but, they are cute. Comfortable too. I seem to be way more fashion concious here than I was at the Lodge." She laughs. Unlike most of her sorority sisters, who seemed to be the epitome of 80's fashion even on that fateful vacation, she mostly wore clothes she saw fit for the outdoors; short shorts, concert tees, a lot of denim. "There are a lot of things in there. I tried on a bunch of things one night. Did my own little private cat walk." She laughs again, pink touching her cheeks slightly at the admission. "I'm a dork." Touching fingertips to his leather covered knee again, but letting them linger a moment, she says, "So far I've seen you in hot leather pants and sexy pajama bottoms so. I approve of you clothing options thus far."

She grins up at him and shifts again, turning to face him a little more directly and crossing her legs once more. "Ahh, like, calling someone family sorta." She nods, and when he mentions Beach Blanket Bingo, she forgets all about his list, for the time being. "Yes! That!" she exclaims excitedly. "Like all those fun, campy movies. And..." Bikini! Looking coy and blushing more she bites at her lip. "Um.. there were a couple different suits in there, bikini included. I wasn't sure why, since I haven't exactly seen a pool here." Placing her hand on his shoulder, she leans forward, her eyes and smile bright. "Please can we do that? When can we do that? Will you play a ukelele and sing some Beach Boys song while I do The Swim and um, other old dances?"


Scott never appeared to be less than approving of short shorts and concert tees. Especially the shorts. The Bon-Vivant grins again at the mention of her personal fashion show, and admits, "I tried on a bunch of what's in mine, too. Nowhere near all of it, though."

No objection to the touch of his knee, and that blush just makes the grin widen a touch further, the arm around her sliding with her movement to let his fingers brush up the back of her neck. "You could always make a pool in one of the rooms," he says, "but the beach idea sounds more fun. Yeah, let's do it. We could go now, if you want, I didn't have anything else planned. And hell, I'll try, the singing might not even suck... but Scott only played the drums, y'know." He sounds already amused with the likely outcome of him attempting ukelele, and also entirely on board with trying nonetheless. You never know, right? He leans forward a bit himself, enough to kiss her on the forehead. "C'mon. If it turns out I'm as bad as I bet I am, we can play the radio I'm gonna make sure it has and dance /together/, instead."


The Lover seems to be absolutely delighted to hear that he tried on a lot of his clothes too. She smiles at him and just shakes her head gently. "You, Sir, are just adorable." She bites her lip and clears her throat, letting her fingers draw circles on his knee a moment before his own graze over her neck and give her a bit of a shiver.

Taking a slow but deep breath, she looks into his eyes again, still for the moment, her lip caught in her teeth. After a beat or two, she takes another breath and nods. "A pool might be good if I am like, just bored or something... but the beach sounds like an experience... an actual experience, one that I imagine will be best shared with you. So, let's go! Please?" Shaking her head, she whispers, "I don't care if it's awful, it will be amazing, and a moment that is ours, right? It won't matter, but I like that idea too," she says, closing her eyes as he leans forward and kisses her forehead. Lips curling into a pleased smile, Lulu opens her eyes to peek up at him anew. "Radio, and dancing together. There has to be a blanket too, so if we stay until the night, we can look up at the stars. That was always one of her favorite things, and I think I would like it too." Especially since she can't get outside here to do so, other than the Anywhere Rooms. She shifts again, taking his hand with one of hers as she rises to her knees and starts to back crawl off the bed. "Do I need to change or will we be dressed however when we go in?"


Maybe Fizz ought to be more embarrassed about his sartorial experimentations, but evidence so far suggests he either doesn't embarrass all that easily or hides it pretty well. He smiles, and easily lets his hand be taken, shifting to crawl off the bed along with her. "It'll be ours," he agrees, "...that's another thing about here, for me anyway, things that're mine. It's part of why I named myself. And we'll definitely need a blanket. Towels, surfboards, maybe one of those umbrellas. And maybe a picnic and some drinks, but let's get that from the dispenser, I dunno how filling the Anywhere version is." There's no real reason it'd be any different than the dispensers, if one thinks about it, but all the same. "If we want it to, it'll make what we're wearing look different. But I'm still kinda leaning toward at least putting on a swimsuit and all first. Things don't stay wet when you come out and it doesn't hurt 'em any, even if you straight-up swim in them -- which I did, the first time -- but something about it just feels a little weird." A pause as they stand, and he gives her a more impish grin before adding, "Plus, I kinda wanna see your bikini."


The Lover holds onto his hand, walking towards the closet, she at the very least has to wear something other than pajamas, right? It's a big walk in, full of wood and more wood, with cubbies for some things, drawers, racks. She seems to have a ton of clothes too. You have to walk through the closet to get to the bathroom, but it seems rather romantic, relaxing, and as lavish as her room, a big round tub sitting in view of the open door.

She stops walking and turns to look at him, one arm crossing over herself leisurely, her head tilting. She smiles and says, "I am about making moments mine. Tallulah was like that too, so maybe it is just part of her that's me, or maybe it was vice versa. I don't know. But, like I talked about her having fun in between the bad and stressful stuff. The fun was her moments. We can't control what happens to us. Like, just as it is. In encounters, or here, probably." Maybe. "But we can control our own moments, when things don't happen to us, but we make them happen for us." She smiles at him and takes a step in towards him, rocking forward on that one foot to get close enough to steal a kiss from his cheek. Her lips are soft, the smooch brief, but tender before she turns back to one of the built-in drawers. "Like that. That is one of my moments. Our moments, if you didn't mind it. If you did well, I'll apologize, profusely." Opening the drawer, she peeks inside then looks over her shoulder at him. "Pink, blue, or purple?"


The Bon-Vivant takes in the closet and what he can see of the bathroom with interest, looking over and lightly touching the visible clothing, and when they stop, what she has to say gets another smile. This one's clear agreement, the sort of smile one gets when someone else says exactly what you think about something not everyone you've discussed it with understands. "I'm pretty sure I've never in either life been kissed by a pretty woman and minded it," he says, the grin bringing out his dimples again, "so, yeah. One of ours. Sometimes I try to explain that to people, controlling our own moments when there's so much shit that's just gonna happen whether we want it to or not, and everything we can't know. Some stuff, we can do. Some things are our own. And life's all made of moments." He leans over and returns the kiss, also light and brief, if quite close to the corner of her lips. "Purple. Then we can grab mine, and go see how many moments we can claim."