but they are so sweet, my little golden treasure of a lady!!
Giant double-entendre. He's happy she's agreed to come, though, and tries to adopt a very cool, nonchalant position in a broken chair by a dusty, steeply gabled window. The whole attic is filled with broken things, including the dressmaker's dummies that he has arrayed in a variety of strange dresses.
"Veronica?" He didn't even bother answering the locket. There were only two rum bottles beside him, after all, and one in progress. It wasn't even very good stuff -- quite watered-down. "Over here!"
She makes her way upward, rubbing at her nose when it itches with the need to sneeze from all the dust. She sees him over in the corner on a chair surrounded by what look like zombie prom mannequins. She sighs and makes her way over. "You weren't kidding about the dresses. You realize you're going to have to make the most compelling of arguments to get me in one of those, right?"
"Or there's this red one." It looked like something the bride of Dracula would wear. Shiny, shiny satin and lace and a terrifying bodice. "I don't know what ladies of your time and place wear."
"Not that. Our dresses generally only require the wearer to put it on. I think I'd need fifteen people to get me into that." Jack... what're you doing, Jack?
"Because you're my date." It was a modern word that he'd picked up from some of the more advanced residents of Caer Scima. He didn't ENTIRELY understand the concept yet but it would probably come with time.
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And my fun with fonts continues...
/popcorn
Why do you have dresses picked out for me?
: |
You entertain, I be entertained.
She was going to go check that out. And yes, there was a map nailed to her door. Jack... how had she not heard that?
You realize you're being weird, right?
: |
He was going to be waiting for her in the second attic with the half-dozen or so dresses he'd stolen or cut off of dead bodies or bartered for.
SMOOCH
She was going, but only because she didn't want a drunk pirate in a dress showing up at her door -- something she was sure was possible.
**
come up here I have peanuts also mmmmm delicious peanuts.
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Yeah, she knew the double entendre there...
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Giant double-entendre. He's happy she's agreed to come, though, and tries to adopt a very cool, nonchalant position in a broken chair by a dusty, steeply gabled window. The whole attic is filled with broken things, including the dressmaker's dummies that he has arrayed in a variety of strange dresses.
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Because she was learning that there were stages of drunk!Jackness that made him either okay to deal with or absolutely hopeless.
She clicks her locket closed as she opens the door to the attic, seeing the narrow, dusty stairs with clomping boot prints through them. "Jack?"
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Be my date?"
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