abnormalizes | Seasons: IC Contact/Continuations

I will treasure all the bug photos you send me, don't worry.

[Smooching his forehead.

Also, she dismisses the naked Lycaon illusion, it was getting kind of weird to just talk about other stuff while he was there.]

[... Honestly, he'd been so focused on talking to Evangeline, he'd forgotten about the naked Lycaon illusion.
Evidenced enough by the way he sort of startles when it just poofs like that.

But he reaches up to touch his forehead where she'd kissed it, a flush coloring his features - but with his smile growing a little wider.]

I'm pleased you already know me so well. You won't need to save them all, of course... likely, I'll end up needing to clear my own phone from time to time just to keep up with the sheer amount I'll take.
Assuming, of course, that these devices aren't magic and thus have limited space.

That's how such smartdevices work in the land of the dead. No limited capacity, so long as you're willing to recharge them more often as they accrue more and more data.

[Honestly, she should put 'made Louis Garou forget there was a naked Lycaon illusion in the room' on her resume or her testimonials or something.]

They do have limited space, unfortunately...

This is just a thought, but have you ever considered scrapbooking?

[She really should. It's quite a feat.]

I hadn't, no. Such a messy, menial, low hobby isn't something my parents would have allowed... and while living in the catacombs, I tried very hard not to own anything that would leave a trail for others to follow through them.
The scraps part of "scrapbooking" would have been exactly that. As would the glitter, as I refuse to do something like that without it.

[... So, yes, he HAS considered scrapbooking, but his answer to the consideration was "no scrapbooking".]

Why do you ask?

You could preserve your bug photos in a beautiful, glittery way even when you ran out of space on your phone. I'm sure anything you made would be wonderful.

-I just think it'd be nice, maybe.

Ah, no, I do agree with you... I apologize if the way I described it as "menial and low" gave you the idea that I hadn't.
But that's simply what my father would have said. It's the reason I'm unable to truly craft any real form of art... or play any sort of sport you can imagine.
Or anything that has to do with animals.
Or anything even remotely related to technology.
Nor food... though, I taught myself that one, regardless, after I'd passed.

[Basically, he was given all of, like, two baskets to put all of his thousands of eggs in. This is a guy who would probably be able to do anything if he'd been allowed to explore it all, but instead, all he got was "you learn languages, you learn money, and you play violin".

But at least that means he's terrifyingly fluent in every single thing he was allowed to explore.]

... That said, as I'd just told you, I do agree. It would be nice -
Not just for my bug photos, but for other things, as well. Scrapbooking... it's mostly meant for immortalizing memories, isn't it?

It is. I have scrapbooks of my friends in Ellipsa, actually, if you'd like to see them sometime. I don't usually show them to other people...

[There's a lot of just - selfies, and candid shots, and pictures of people doing nothing in particular. Not memories that most people would consider important.]

I would, if you'd allow me. I'd love to see what you consider worth putting into a scrapbook -
Such a thing would be a lovely window into the way your mind works, you know.

[Because of course he's thinking about it from that angle.]

... That, and I trust your sense of decor. I know I'll likely need a springboard when it comes to decorating my own...
I've never done it before, after all. I wouldn't even know where to start, beyond stickers.
I do own a lot of unused stickers.

I guess it's probably pretty telling, huh.

[That she considers it worth immortalizing that she got to hang out with her friends, and see them smile, and things were calm enough to snap a photo of them relaxing.]

I like putting ribbons and buttons in, personally!

It is, yes - and that is how something like that should be. Regardless of why you do it, scrapbooking is an artform, and artforms are meant to express your inner world.
Every page is filled with your thoughts, your feelings, your memories... the things you prioritize, the things that you cherish.

No matter how your scrapbooks look nor how you feel about them, I'll treasure the chance to be one of few to peer into them, even if only for a moment.

...

And I'll be keeping buttons and ribbons in mind for my own, of course. I have recently purchased a fair-sized lot of shell buttons, all polished to a pearly shine.
From an antique shop, of course. They're all quite old, and were clearly there for some time - the price had been docked thrice.

You're sweet. Of course you'd be someone I'd want to share it with.

[A kiss to his cheek, this time.]

Speaking of moments I cherish, can I tempt you to bed?

[Well, how about he just return that, then? Even taking a half step closer so he can give her a proper kiss -
Though it's a short, chaste one, just so he can talk.]

You needn't even tempt me. You should know that by now, shouldn't you?
All you need to do is ask.

Oh, good. It'd be a shame if I didn't get to show you what I look like naked, too.

[She scoops him up again and carries him to his bed, setting him down gently. She sits down beside him, going in for a longer kiss this time.]

[His arms are, as always, tossed around her neck without a moment of hesitation - and once she's got him settled on the bedding, that kiss is returned with gusto.

... Not just his usual gusto, either. He knows he'll be able to kiss her as much as he'd like without forcing her to take any of his magic - she'll be as lucid as she ever is, no matter how much he keeps his lips against hers, and he's excited.]

[She doesn't mind his magic - but this is different and special. She kisses him deeply, lips parted for him to claim as much as he likes, hands tangled in his beautiful hair.

All of him is beautiful. Maybe if she kisses him enough he'll be able to feel her feelings.]

[That invitation is taken without a second thought, of course, sweeping his tongue in against hers as he cups her face with his hands.
Letting his fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her just that little bit closer.

Even if he might not feel her feelings directly... he still feels beautiful with her, regardless.
He always does.]

[She moans into his mouth something that might have been his name, pressing close against him, chest to chest.

It's unfortunate that she has to stop playing with his hair to unbutton and toss off her jacket. She could just make it disappear in a puff of dream logic - but she wants to show him as close to 'reality' as she can.]

[Well, hey - it might be unfortunate, but it's better she does it this way, anyway! Because unlike just poofing her jacket entirely, unbuttoning and removing it like that is taken as a proper invitation -
Once she's moved back in for that kiss, his hands are already on her, pulling up the hem of her shirt so they can feel the warmth of her skin...

Which, as always, is far, far warmer than his own. Sorry, Eva, but Louis being frigid is simply a fact of life. ... Unless she changes it with dream logic, but look - if she wants it realistic then she'll have to deal with his cold little hands on her ribs.]

[She will survive cold hands in the name of realism.

But if he's going to do that, then she pulls back for a moment to take off her shirt entirely, leaving her in her favorite lacy black bra.]

How do I look?

...

[He's taking a moment, here, to really look her over, of course - even reaching out to settle his hands on her waist, trace them up her sides to cup them underneath her breasts at the edge of her bra.
And, after a second, the corner of his mouth tugs up into something of a smirk.]

Like I'd tear through that brassiere of yours to get at you, if I could... were it not your favorite.
Come here, let me get you out of that - I wish to see you properly.

We're in a dream - you can rip it right to shreds. Please do, actually.

[She's always into him getting feral in desire for her.]

[She has only herself to blame, then.

"Please do," she says, and he's already wrapping his arms around her to flip the both of them over, making sure his hips are pressed between her thighs as he hooks those long, claw-like nails of his into the lace of her bra - trying his best not to nick her, of course, but he can't make any promises.
She wants him to rip it to shreds? He'll rip it to shreds. It only takes a yank or two to make it happen - even reaching under its band to snap right through its wire and leave her bare.

And from there, he settles his hands on either side of her chest against the bedding, locking eyes with her as he dips down; pausing before his lips touch her skin not to ask permission... but something more like a threat. Even letting his grin widen to show off all of his sharp, sharp teeth.]

[There it goes! Into itty bitty pieces. It was extremely hot and she has no regrets.

Still has no regrets even as he shows off his teeth. If anything, she feels herself getting even more worked up.]

You can do whatever you want to me, Louis.

Well, don't say that...
Someday, I may take you up on that wholeheartedly.

[Said with a huff of a laugh, the breath hitting her skin thanks to just how close he is -

And right after, he scoops one of his arms underneath her back to lift her up, just so he can pepper her chest in soft, warm little kisses.
They're almost delicate enough to feel out of character for him, honestly. As if she's made of crepe paper, and he's afraid of ruining her by kissing her just a bit too hard.]

[... Of course, she should probably know better by now.

After just a moment or so of that, she'll feel his teeth scrape along her skin - gentle, careful, not enough to pierce. But still leaving nice, red welts in their wake, almost a mockery of what he's done to her before.

Playful, but still tasting her as best he can. Loving, but still out of a desire to feel her flesh between his teeth.
Even lathing his tongue over them as he goes, leaving patches of cold to goosebump behind him, determined to leave as many marks across her skin as he can.]

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"pan does he really say *brassiere* of all things" yeah. unfortunately.

yeah he would

unfortunately for all!

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1/2;

2/2;

"pan does he really say brassiere of all things" yeah. unfortunately.